So, I was on the road for the past 14 out of 16 days, dividing my time unevenly among three states: Oklahoma, Idaho and Missouri. And most of the time, I’ve been up at the crack-before-dawn turkey hunting, so frankly, I’m getting loopy tired already. But, here are my observations from my recent travels and experiences and they have nothing to do with each other at all …
People should not apply deodorant under their arms (or anywhere actually) while sitting next to me waiting to board a flight. Just because you’re wearing a big, floppy Hawaiian shirt does not give you the right to be so tacky.
People with ugly feet should not wear sandals without socks, especially to the airport where they have to remove the little cover that is on those feet in the first place. And, I have ugly feet so I heed this rule.
That song about Oklahoma where the wind blows is right. It does … and remind me, if I ever have to sit on a rock for a photo session there again with the wind whipping fine clay around, I’m going to bring Vaseline for my teeth. Or not smile, even though I’m happy that I tagged out early.
Merriam’s turkeys will respond to Eastern sub-species’ turkey calls that I make, and for some reason, they really, really like my spitty mouth calls. I popped a Hunter’s Specialties’ Raspy Old Hen diaphragm call in my mouth last week, sat down on a trail in northwestern Idaho and talked to the turkeys there for a while. And my husband laughed at my songs.
My daughter-in-law and I went turkey hunting this week in Missouri and dang it, I couldn’t get those gobblers to come in to the field, and she claims I scared a hen away from the blind with my slate call. My daughter-in-law accused me of making nun-ish, hen turkey calls that no decent, red-wattled gobbler would be interested in going near in the first place because he thought my hens were fine, upstanding models of the community and more interested in doing good works than having a good time.
Finally, no two scales – like Weight Watchers meetings – are alike at airports, so give yourself at least five pounds of leeway from your bathroom scale to the airport scale. Or else, you’ll end up throwing away your old flax bag and toting an extra jacket with you for a few thousand miles.
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