I'm a Sheep

So, yes, I will be like every other blogger, journalist, and facebooker in America today. Today's post is about none other than Thanksgiving.
I love Thanksgiving. I love it because of the food. I love food. I love turkey, and stuffing, and mashed potatoes, and gravy, and stuffing, and ham, and rolls, and green bean casserole, and stuffing, and cranberry sauce, and pumpkin pie, and apple pie, and stuffing, and pecan pie, and banana cream pie, and coconut cream pie, and stuffing.
I love watching the Lions play football on Thanksgiving. I don't care that they usually lose. It's all about tradition baby. Of course, this year the game could be really interesting. They are taking on the 10-0 Packers. Last year Detroit beat Green Bay. I'd be ever so thankful for a win today. But regardless of the outcome, it's the tradition of sitting there watching the game, complaining about how much you ate.
Speaking of tradition, did I mention that I love the tradition of stuffing? Well I do.
Everyone talks about how Thanksgiving is a great time of year because you get to be with all your family and everyone has a good time and eats and watches football. Me, not so much. I just love the stuffing. Don't get me wrong, I like my family and it's fun to get together with them. But we see each other multiple times a year. We don't have anyone that ONLY makes it back for the holidays.
I'll be heading over to my grandparents for dinner shortly. I'm bringing banana bread with maple brown sugar butter. Aunt Joy will bring the deviled eggs. Aunt Shannon will bring the green bean casserole. Everybody brings the same thing every time, and I'm just fine with that. As long as there's stuffing. What are you making?

Related Links
Why this day is what it is.
The good stuff.
The really good stuff.

Some Things Just Aren't Cool

Okay, so I'm going to Honduras next August on a mission trip. I will be accompanying kids from our high school youth group as we work with Mision Caribe. This will be my first time going on a mission trip. If anyone would like to help fund the trip, simply click on some of the ads on this website. That's all it takes.
Anyway, when I agreed to this venture, I failed to remember that Honduras is largely jungle. Jungles, in case you aren't aware, are extraordinary places for spiders. And I don't just mean numbers. They get BIG. For those of you who may not know me too well, this presents a monumental problem. I am terrified of spiders. I have had people tell me that the spiders are more afraid of me than I am of them. I can guarantee that isn't true. "Well you're a thousand times bigger, just smush it." Ummm, no. It could jump on me and bite me and kill me. It's at this point that most people just shake their head or laugh or call me a sissy Nancy boy. I don't care. Spiders are abhorrent abominations that serve no good purpose on this earth. You may argue that they eat bugs. So do snakes, birds, bats, and frogs. I would gladly trade a few more of each of those in exchange for getting rid of spiders.
Honduras is home to three of the five deadly species of spiders known to exist. Many of you are probably at least familiar with the brown recluse and the black widow. But the Brazilian Wandering spider, or banana spider, also resides there. This spider has the most potent neurotoxin of any spider in the world. It is also a very aggressive spider and is not afraid to attack creatures much larger than itself (i.e. humans). Besides these three super killers, there are a vast number of other species of spiders that live here. "Oh, most spiders are harmless," you say. Just let me be clear about this, ALL spiders have venom. Therefore all spiders could possibly kill me.  You may say that line of reasoning is irrational.

pho·bi·a   [foh-bee-uh] 

noun

a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it.

Yes, I know that it really doesn't make sense to be afraid of spiders. That doesn't make me any less afraid of them though. I can't help it. They are vile, evil, insidious, little monsters that need to be eradicated and that's all there is to it.

Honduras is also home to four very dangerous snakes as well as scorpions. There is also a lot of gang violence and tourists are frequently robbed. But I really am not worried about any of that. Just the spiders.  

Related Links

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

Why don't these bother me?

Why I'm going anyway.

You Can't Win 'Em All

Well, today was the opening day of firearm season here in Michigan. I wasn't out first thing this morning due to a conflict with my schedule. Had a Bible study to go to and that was a bit more important than being in the woods at dark thirty. This is actually a big deal for me. As little as a year ago, hunting would have taken priority. But now things are different.
So I got out to the woods about 10:30 this morning. It was a beautiful morning too by the way. The sun was shining, the frost was just starting to melt off the leaves and grass. I saw a few turkeys as I was walking to my blind. I got all situated in my ground blind and began my vigil. Over the next six hours I saw 1,758 squirrels. I was able to keep an exact count as there were no deer to distract me. I also got to see a hawk swoop down and snatch a squirrel off the ground. That was pretty sweet. I'll tell ya what though, the other squirrels didn't take too kindly to it. They raised such a ruckus for the next fifteen minutes.
Something I've come to realize over the past few years, the manufacturers of those "hot seats" for hunters are definitely not thinking about the more rotund people that may use their product. I think my tailbone may actually be bruised.
Anyway, darkness fell without one single deer showing itself. So I came home. Now I'm just sitting here writing this post, waiting for bed time so I can get up and do it all again tomorrow.

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I'm pretty sure this is the type of hawk I saw today.
And this was its dinner.
Christmas is coming. Maybe your loved ones would appreciate something like this.

In Honor of NaNoWriMo I'm Submitting the Laziest Post Ever.

Yes, November is National Novel Writing Month, in which countless aspiring authors attempt to write a novel in thirty days. To those eight people that succeed, my hats off to you. To the rest, I'm "write" there with ya. Well, not exactly. I'm not attempting to write a novel at the moment. November contains the most historically successful dates for deer hunting, so I'm doing that whenever I have the chance. I did however start a novel earlier this year. Unfortunately I let life take over and abandoned it after several chapters.
I submit to you, the prologue.

Roots snaked up around his legs and torso, lashing out with their tendrils to entrap his arms.  Unseen weaves of energy sought to block him from the magical flows from which he drew his power.  Thrashing wildly, he hurled mage fire, desperately seeking to destroy the living vines that ensnared him, while simultaneously waging an unseen battle of will to maintain control of his magic.  Gouts of rock and soil lashed through the air as blast after blast struck ineffectually into the earth around him.  Trees and rocks alike shattered under the impact of mystic bolts of fire.  One vicious burst found its mark and splinters of wood lanced out in all directions.

     Bellowing in pain and rage, he clawed at his face, striving to dislodge the shrapnel embedded in his eye. Jerking the offending shard free he searched in vain for his enemies as more and more cords of root twined around his body.

      Half blinded by his own savagery, he lay about him in a relentless barrage of magical flame.  Unfortunately the pain caused his focus to waver and knots of magic drew tight about him.  His frenzied onslaught ceased immediately and the creeping vines pulled tight, holding him immobile.

     Like wraiths emerging from a fog, his four assailants materialized from the forest around him.  He watched as they approached him boldly, knowing they had nothing to fear now that he was cut off from the mystic energy.  As they drew near he could sense the one holding the spell which prevented his use of magic.  He knew that unless his bonds were released, he was at their mercy.  He also knew mercy would not be high on their list of priorities this day.

I have about thirty pages written I think. Maybe one day I'll resume the effort. Who knows.

The Orange Army Cometh.

No, we're not being invaded by the Netherlands. (If you don't understand the connection, Google it.) No, what I'm talking about is the opening of the firearm season in Michigan. In exactly one week, hundreds of thousands of blaze orange clad hunters will descend upon the fields and forests of our great state. I remember riding the bus to school in the days before I was old enough to hunt and seeing all the "pumpkins" sitting out in the edge of fields or along windrows. This was never opening day of course. That's a sacred holiday on which school is cancelled. But I always remember wishing I was old enough to be out there with them.
Since then, I've joined the ranks and served many tours in the orange army. I've had some success and some failure. I've participated in the great tradition of the family deer camp. (Although notorious might be more suitable than great for our family.) I have forgotten countless stories of deer season, yet the overall essence of what they mean has been ingrained into my psyche.
Things have definitely changed since I was younger. You no longer see all the "pumpkins". Everyone now has a blind of some sort. Weather it be a commercial model, or a self built box, (complete with heat, insulation, coffee, food, and electricity) very few enjoy actually sitting out in the woods. I'll admit, I've hunted from both types, but I've never really been comfortable in them. I much prefer hunkering down against a tree or sitting in a pit blind I dug and constructed myself.
This year, I did it a little differently though. I actually built a ground blind using camo cloth and dead limbs and such.

If you can't see it, well...isn't that the point?
For those of you who have read my previous posts about bow hunting, don't get me wrong. I'm extremely passionate about it. But at this point in time, it comes down to meat in the freezer and a rifle is simply much more likely to accomplish that.

Help a Fella Out.

I consider myself an artist. I would honestly love to be able to make a living with my artwork. Unfortunately, I have a very tough time finding people who are actually interested in paying for my art. I know a lot of that has to do with the fact that I really don't have a "network" to help spread the word about my talent. I'm also pretty much limited to pencil drawings or pointilism using pen and ink.
It would be wonderful to find people that wanted something specific and work on a commission basis rather than making a lot of stuff and hoping to sell it.
All that being said, this post is basically a shameless self promotion. Here are some examples of my work.

At the moment, I don't have any pencil drawings available to post, but I'm just as good at that. Also, I can draw or pen and ink anything, not just wildlife. Animals happen to be my favorite subject so that's what I do for fun. But I can do landscapes, still life, portraits, pretty much anything you could want.
If anyone is interested in having work done or has any questions, feel free to email me at looneygrant@gmail.com.

I Don't Want to Hear it.

Ladies and gentleman, I have returned. I took a self imposed sabbatical. I'd like to say that I was going through some life altering situations that completely turned my world upside down, but the truth is, I just didn't feel like writing for a while.
Today was a great day for me. I got to go on a charter for steelhead on the Muskegon River. This was my birthday present from my parents. The fishing was crazy and our guide was awesome.
We put in just after 8:00 this morning. It was nice and chilly and a heavy mist was rising from the river. The guide put us up at the head of a run and set us up to learn the technique of back bouncing. After less than a minute of practicing my line just stopped. Fish on!!! Talk about a great start. In a few minutes I landed a nice five or six pounder. We got back into position and within another couple minutes I had another fish on. Sweet. Got that one into the boat and decided to let it go. We're only allowed to keep three fish per person and I didn't want the day to end that quickly.
Throughout the next four hours or so we landed 12 more fish. We lost another eight or ten that we never got to the boat as well.
Some pictures from the trip can be found at http://www.muskegonriverguide.blogspot.com/.

No related links today. Just check out Jeff's website above or like him on facebook, http://www.facebook.com/pages/Muskegon-River-Guide/105859362801467.