Dove

 

We set up at a tank on a friend's ranch and waited for the birds, shotguns ready, but would the avian acrobats arrive? Good question. All the right stuff was in place, Mojo decoys whirring away, sunflowers, water, and shooters, but you never can tell.

At first it was slow, no birds apart from a couple of random kestrels and the odd mockingbird heading into the trees around the tank. Maybe it'd be a washout, but we waited, vigilant, fingers off the trigger but ready to go.

And in they swooped like speeding Messerschmidts out of the sun behind us, right into the flak barrage. Brisk action and big fun, though far more birds escaped than went down; still, we got a few for the pot and it looks like jalapeno poppers are in order tomorrow. Great result, and it was good to get back in the field, it's been awhile.

Afterwards we convened on the tailgate to clean birds, drink cold beer and talk, curiously, of Anglican/Orthodox communion and ut unum sint (may they all be one) in the face of secularist neo-pagan aggression. Regards the former, not much chance while wymxn priestesses are running around. The latter? Better band together, people, regardless of denomination. Perhaps that will be forced on us.

Then it was time for home and a clear drive through the country back to the Compound. We will do this again.

Cheers,

LSP

Just Get Out In The Field

 

"For an LSP you sure don't get out in the field very much," the people murmur, discontentedly. And they have a point, so to put things right I RV'd with some church ranch people and off we went against the avian adversary, dove, splitting into two groups.

Our section had a good setup. Imagine a dead tree by a stock tank and then, maybe 150 yards off, another dead tree pretty much opposite the first. And there it is, mojo decoys at the tank, clipons at the further tree, wait for the birds to fly and have at it.

Fly they did, especially at the tank mojos, those things definitely work, which is awesome. But I was at the second dead tree and stupidly didn't have mojo power, only clipon. Still, plenty of fast flying, wing shooting action.

OK, I missed more than I hit but still, plenty of sound and fury and the tankers did very well, with one shooter close to limiting out. You see, practice doesn't hurt when you come to these things, especially when the birds are fast, go figure, dove, and shot-savvy, which they are at this point in the game; just watch them dodge your hurtling hail of 1400 fps BBs.

Then dusk began to fall and we regrouped in a laager of pickups to clean a tailgate of birds, tell war stories and enjoy ourselves under the bright stars of a Texan night. No small thing, they shine brightly.

What a great evening. Shotguns, pickups, birds, great people and the open air of the Lone Star State. There'll be dove poppers tomorrow. Yum.

Remember to aim,

LSP

Friday Fish

Sure, you can be a miserable Marxist Determinist, go right ahead and choose to leave your free-will behind. Or, on the other hand, you can make like a free agent and go fishing on the mighty Brazos. I chose that path.

It was a little slow at first, but that was alright. Patience, LSP, wait for the bite to switch on and enjoy the big birds casting fierce eyes for targets of opportunity. The one above swooped down on a perch I'd hooked, a first for me. Hey, my fish!

Then things started to roll and it was pretty much a fish with every cast, big Bluegill, decent Drum, and a scad of ferocious junior Striper. Back they went to fight again another day. Big fun, I tell you, and a welcome change from watching fauxtrage commies pull down statues.

I mean really, pulling down statues of Christopher Columbus, George Washington, Jefferson and General Lee is going to transform America into a genderless rainbow no-police utopia, and get Biden elected? Really? No, of course not, it's just a dropped-on-head-as-infant Marxist spasm.

Pseudo-Tet aside, I cut out while the catch was good and headed for home, the big Texan sky reflecting off the water of the river. And there it was, good action met tranquility.

Tight lines,

LSP

Day in the Country

Got to the Stables early and the barn cats galloped for their food; you' think they were starving, which they aren't. Regardless, it was neat to watch them race across the grass and better still to approximate to the same thing on horseback.

galloping cat

Later in the day, towards dusk, the air filled with birds - a cacophony of the things, fiercely strutting about and pecking for food. There must have been hundreds of them around the parsonage; incredibly noisy but interesting to watch.

After watching them carry on for a time I drove off to say Mass and was a little worried to see several pews full of silent, reverent people when I arrived at the church. Was I late?! No, they were just keen and intent on saying their prayers. I love that.

You'll forgive me for not commenting on the unfolding Warmist scandal, yet more attacks by Muslim 'martyrs', Episcopal priests praying to Aztec 'saints' (and Muslim martyrs) and a strange old woman in the diocese of D.C. who celebrated a neo-pagan 'Croning' liturgy in the National Cathedral. More of that anon.

Keep pulling the trigger.

LSP

Riding Around

Got up early to go for a ride in the comparative cool of the morning; the neighbour's birds had escaped their backyard prison to find freedom in the church car park. They were pecking about, pleased with themselves.

Horses were in good form too, intrigued by the addition of several donkeys to the field, which they found strangely fascinating. Enjoyed the ride; practiced sitting and posting trot, two point, serpentines, spirals and cantered about for a bit. Hugely uplifting - then the heat began to rise...

So 'Be-Bop' went back to his stall and I headed off to shoot targets at the stock tank and talk church. Very relaxing after charging about the pasture and a great way, I think, to spend the morning - of course my equine objective is to go extremely fast for long distances while jumping over obstacles, preferably in pursuit of something. But all in good time.

Arrived home to discover the birds had retreated to their gaol where they'd found food - doubtless a metaphor for something if you care to make it.

God bless,

LSP