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Pastimes : NNBM - SI Branch -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: elpolvo who wrote (101654)	6/16/2020 4:50:08 PM
From: abuelita	1 Recommendation Recommended By Cautious_Optimist Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 104216

i would like to raise a baby magpie but they don't live up here. on the other hand, this .......

To: elpolvo who wrote (101654)	6/16/2020 6:56:22 PM
From: Ron	1 Recommendation Recommended By elpolvo Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 104216

I never managed to hit a bird with a stone. This is as close as I ever came to something like that. Once while visiting my aunt and uncle's farm, while the old folks were sitting around gabbing, I wandered out to their big farm pond. I was probably ten or so, and the pond was loaded with large bullfrogs sitting on the banks. It was hot and when it gets hot, bullfrogs get aggressive. I couldn't catch one, they are way too fast. So I went to the barn and got an eight foot long piece of binder twine, to tease the frogs. I'd lower the binder twine from above and the frog would get sick of getting tickled by the twine and try to bite it. This was amusing for awhile, and then I decided maybe I could lasso a frog. So I made a slipknot and a loop and threw the twine out on frogs floating in the water. No luck, until a four pound catfish, apparently attracted by the twine leaped for it. I yanked the twine and it caught him right behind his sharp fins. I pulled the fish out, carried it into my aunt and uncle's house. My mother said, "How'd you catch that???" I said, "Lassoed it with this twine." They laughed and laughed, and that became a family joke for awhile... about the day I lassoed a catfish. I did a little hunting too, but that's a different story :)

To: elpolvo who wrote (101654)	6/17/2020 2:09:50 PM
From: Ron	2 Recommendations Recommended By Crocodile elpolvo Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 104216

Story about hunting: I got a .22 Remington Octagon barrel for my 14th birthday, so the first job was to learn to shoot it straight, safety lessons, then go after the varmints who had decided our hen house was a local franchise of KFC. Worst varmints: Weasels. They'll kill a dozen chickens and eat just a little of one... the rest is apparently for fun. I never could track down a weasel, they are too weaselly. But, raccoons would drop by for a chicken meal now and then too. I saw one high in a cottonwood tree down the hill from our barn, ran and got the rifle, and knocked that sucker out of the tree, a big bull raccoon, and it was a clean shot, so very little obvious body damage. So I got out my You too, can be a Taxidermist book that I'd ordered for just such an occasion and set about stuffing that raccoon. It was a job. Raccoons are fat and it's a greasy fat. Bleccchhh. I had to send off for a plaster set of gums and teeth and glass eyes, then stuffed him with old newspaper. This was a true test of perseverance, or stupidity... anyway, my bedroom was next to the breezeway that led to the kitchen. So house guests, had to walk past my bedroom. So I positioned the raccoon in my room to be in his snarling pose at any house guest who walked by. It worked almost too good, my mother made me store the raccoon in the closet after a young lady cousin shrieked and fell backwards when she saw the snarling raccoon. I never stuffed another critter after that. Once and done. A few other animals fell prey to my Remington, squirrels and rabbits mostly. But I never hunted again after I went off to college. The Remington hasn't been fired since 1969. It's an antique, I suppose. Anyway that's my huntin' story. I may get around to 'gathering' recollections later on, and if so, I'll share.