What's in a Name?

What a great weekend! As I mentioned, The Hunters came out to the Farm, spent the night, and were up early Saturday. They spotted 15 deer between them, many spotted.

Mr. Big Food had a wonderful hunters' breakfast waiting for them when they returned. We had had a roasted potato dish the other evening, the leftovers of which he turned into hashbrowns. A bit of left over freshly ground beef was reconceived as sausage a day or two before. He fried it all up with some fresh herbs, onion, etc., made some indentations, cracked some eggs, sprinkled some cheese. I warmed up some homemade French bread and opened a new jar of dewberry jam... .

Over breakfast, we talked at length about managing deer populations. What becomes orphaned triplets in a coyote-rich land?

Rocky & I went with The Hunters as they did some post-breakfast camera work.

The stand is not suited to a bow. There's no elbow room unless you're standing, which Nick was not at a critical time.

And we made a thorough investigation of Walker's stand. Walker's a well-mannered kid, but he fails to understand that I made my living dealing with 16 year-olds. Yes, Walker, I do know where your corn feeder is. It's in the garage. How old are you? 16! You know what that means? That means I no longer have to watch my language. Walker thanked me repeatedly for allowing him to continue to hunt on our property. "Ma'am" was repeated throughout. I like Walker. I hope he doesn't blow it.

I took Missy to the Pond Pasture-- that's where she dug up nest of yellow jackets. What a horrific ordeal. Poor thing. She's fine-- thanks for asking, Aggie!-- but, man, did it wig her out. By the time I'd figured out what was going on, they'd swarmed her. She came when I called and through several iterations of coming, my knocking them off, running around like a lunatic, coming... them getting in my hair...  we made it back to the truck, and high tailed it to the house. Miss M & A. Leland assisted with the final exterminations. Whew.

And then, of course, we fretted about Missy for an hour or so. 

The weekend's excitement out of the way, and it being a gorgeous November Fall day, we all diddled around as the spirit moved-- Mr. Big Food surveyed what still needs to be done, I set up the Miles Standish table-- and awaited the arrival of Daughter C's friend, La Girl with the Cool Name, who'd not been to the Farm before. 


Once welcomed to the Farm, Daughter C showed La Girl with the Cool Name around. Here, I must tip my hat to Daughter C. Her family is weird. (I don't need to elaborate.) But rather than hide our lights under a barrel, Daughter C showed them off. Importantly, she explained the Word-of-the-Day-Can-You-Use-That-Word-in-a-Sentence game. And then they went for a walk and when they got back, picked a big salad heavy on broccoli raab.

The evening was pleasant but chilly. Daughter C had made preparations-- Thanks, A. Leland!-- for a nice fire which we enjoyed as we lamented another classic Dan Mullen State lose,  had a wonderful supper, watched LSU vs. Alabama-- La Girl with the Cool Name is an LSU FAN-- and read our sentences. 

This morning, as we were saying our goodbyes to La Girl with the Cool Name, she asked that I give her a cool name for her blog identity.

Done!