When the sun comes up, the socializing begins. This consists mostly of hanging out in the corn on the back of a four wheeler sipping a soda, and staring blurry eyed in front of you… Stragglers come in from the fields little by little, trying to hold out for just one more… someone insists they bought bad shells… someone lights a cigar…. Someone rolls up their sleeves and takes to the […]
Soon there’s some action. And the earplugs come in handy as shots fire across the field… The doves start to descend en route to breakfast… And Buddy is thrilled to finally get some action… Where’s the dove?… Sniff, sniff, circle, circle… I just saw it here… where did it go?… I’ve been waiting all morning for this moment! AHA! Yihaw! Yippi! The sweet payoff of a dove hunt at daybreak… I don’t think so […]
Dove hunting starts a little later than most hunts. 5:30 am to be exact. It’s a social affair… a cooler full of beverages, talking, laughing, dogs running around in circles. And some good ear plugs. It takes place in the fields not the woods. The doves come down at sunrise to feed on the corn, sunflower seeds and wheat. And we wait. And wait… Entertain the impatient dogs… March around […]
It’s time for the big dove hunt in Lake Village, Arkansas! I plan to eat a lot of roasted dove this weekend. And tamales. But I will only be hunting for dove, not tamales. Those will come from Rhoda who ties them up in perfect little corn husks. Yes, she and I will be eating roasted dove and warm tamales by this time tomorrow. And I can’t wait. I will be sending […]
Cars glide in and out of parking slots outside Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack. The lot is jammed with vehicles ranging from the Baptist Church van to a worn-out pickup truck with a missing tailgate. Most of the storefronts along the street are vacant. Other than Prince’s, all that is left is the Jesus Rock Café and a hair salon, “where ordinary hair becomes extraordinary hair.” Prince’s Hot Chicken Shack drives […]
…I would eat… …blackberry juice for breakfast… …stinging nettle soup for lunch… …a mid-afternoon snack of puffballs… …sea beans with… …fennel frawn pesto for dinner… …bay leaf… crackers?… hmm… I didn’t say it would be all fun and games.
Meet Farmer Al. That is his full name. Like Madonna, or Bono. In most parts, all you have to do is say Farmer Al and people know who you are talking about. That’s because… …he grows these: Word on the street is that they are the best in the country, and all organic too. When no one thought it could be done, he did it — organic peaches. And they have […]
I recently listened to the cadence of five pies consecutively – my ear against the heavy thwump of throbbing apple, the crackling of a blueberry, the bubbling of two flawless blackberry confections, and the soft gurgle of perfectly sweetened huckleberry. It was a morning of passionate pie baking interrupted only by a blackberry picking interlude. Kate McDermott, (www.artofthepie.com), a pianist by trade, gave me an elegant lesson on pie making. […]
At Tulipwood, everyone since my great-grandfather has left their mark. This is the summer of birds — wild Guinea hens with their keets, domesticated keets a day old that we picked up from a lady in Pennsylvania, so small and fuzzy, they fit into the palm of your hand… rapidly growing chicks, turkeys that loiter outside the kitchen door, a rooster named Buster and a white hen named Lucy who […]
They patiently (sort of) waited in a basket while their paper was changed. It’s amazing how quickly they can cover the entire surface of their living quarters with bird droppings…. Meet Loretta, the Buff Laced Polish chicken… She’s tired after her bath. One of her favorite pastimes is to roll around in bird droppings.