Pete Gets a Deer

Our cousins came to visit this past weekend to see us for Christmas because, as you know, we can't leave the woods long enough to see anyone. Peter and Pete Locke of Virginia came down (you know Noelles's husband and son) and young Pete wanted to see about this hunting and visit with Spencer and Michael. It wasn't long until Michael had him out in a stand and he managed to get his first deer!
I think we will be seeing more of Pete soon.

The 45 Minute Man

Michael Howell doesn't understand all this deer hunting stuff. It seems way too easy for him. Come in on Friday at noon, take a nap till 3, get up, walk out whistling all the way to your stand, stay there 45 minutes, big 10 point buck walks out in front of you and starts grazing, blast deer, whistle all the way back to camp. Nothing to it.

Such A Giving Family

It's Christmas and deer season has been a living hell for me this year. I can't kill a deer much less see one at the famous invisible deer farm known as the Christmas Place.
Don't worry, my caring and giving family is taking care of me.
the phone rings...... it's my evil brother Paul........
"Too bad you can't get a big old buck, but I am going to do you a favor and come up there and shoot a monster buck for you for Christmas!" I slammed the phone down. Never trust a lawyer that wants to do you a favor.
the phone rings................. my cousin Burney...
"Hey Rex, since you are not ever going to kill another deer, do you mind if I bring my Great Aunt
Gerty down to shoot one of your deer? You can have the horns for Christmas, she doesn't eat those.
Merry Christmas!" He hung up before I could tell him what I thought of him and his damn Aunt Gerty.
Dad wanders through the office.....
"Hey, since you can't kill a deer, would you mind going duck hunting with me to retrieve the ducks I shoot? I'll give you one for Christmas." I choked back my reply to what he could do with his ducks.
Finally, Trent ( my other evil brother) came by and said "Don't look so down. It's tough knowing that you are never going to get a deer but I have a wonderful Christmas present for you. Open it!"
I pulled away the wrapping. It was a picture of him with his giant 10 pt. He said "You can hang it on the wall behind your desk, would look great there! Every thing went black and I think I passed out, but he was gone when I recovered.
All I want for Christmas is a big old Buck!

Dad's Christmas Tree

Every year, my Dad decorates the cedar tree in front of our office for Christmas
. But now, it has grown so large he can't reach the top of it and needs a little help to finish the decorations. Here we are putting the final touches on the tree. Merry Christmas to you all.

Weekend At Burneys

I am on my way to the camp when I receive a text "Jus shot a big 8-point". Damn! Don't these people have jobs? When I get there the nice buck is on the pole and it just gets worse as the weekend progresses.

I am hunting like a crazy man now. Every member that has been hunting has got their buck but me. I'm scoping, I'm looking, I'm scanning, I'm listening, then BLAM! Burney kills a monster buck at Number #1 Field! Arrghhh! It was a super duper buck! Holy Mackeral! It has turned into Burneys Private Shooting Preserve! To say he was in a good mood is an understatement. I can't take much more.
You know the old saying. Winners laugh and tell jokes, Losers say shut up and deal.

Revenge Of The Deadeye

After the glove fiasco at the Spike Camp field, Paul was devastated, he was crushed, embarrassed, humiliated and he had that sick feeling in his stomach you get after listening to Mark Stewart drone on and on about killing a hog. He moped around and worried about what happened for awhile and then he got MAD, fighting mad. The first thing he did was go out and buy some new gloves and then he started plotting his revenge.
He knew that Friday afternoon the wind would be right and he had to be at camp and on that stand by 3 PM. He blew off work (of course) ignored his shoeless, crying children, untied his weeping wife's hands from around his leg as he dragged her to his truck while she begged him to help with Christmas.
"Christmas! There ain't gonna be no Christmas here until I get that deer!" He slammed the door and drove off in a cloud of bullet casings and dust.
Paul was at the Spike Camp and all was right with the world.
At 5 o'clock the big deer creeped out into the field like Smaug leaving the Lonely Mountain.
It was so dark that all he could see were the big antlers moving back and forth but he got his scope in the middle of the deer and pulled the trigger. BLAM! No problems this time
Paul had no trouble blasting a hole in him the size of a dinner plate and the big deer fell.
It was a 200lb. 8-point really, really nice.
Last report from the coast was that Christmas was back on!

A Lammey Thanksgiving

Dean Lammey killed this magnificent buck at Thanksgiving. Only proving that he must be adopted because it is a well known fact that no Lammey can kill a deer much less one this big! Lammeys came out of the woodwork when they heard about this deer. They took pictures, photobombed Facebook, called the New York Times and bothered the hell out of me. Then they took that varmint, cooked him and about a 1000 of them ate the poor thing. I think they even ate the antlers. I think Davin got a drumstick.
Congratulations to Dean. That is a monster buck and a Thanksgiving to remember.

The Gloves Of Sorrow

Paul had seen the signs. Oh, yes he had seen the signs of the giant buck haunting the Spike Camp Field and on that fateful Thanksgiving afternoon, he made his way to his stand and sat back to await the arrival of the monster buck.
It was bitterly cold and Paul dressed in everything warm he had and he was camouflaged from head to toe in his very sharp and expensive hunting clothes. He even wore gloves, but these were old and frayed and little did he know that this one flaw in his outfit would cause so much sorrow.
A little after 4 PM he heard the buck coming and to his surprise the deer did not ease into the field but bounded down the road and ran right out in front of him and stopped at 30 yards. Perfect.
Paul says the deer was huge, the biggest buck he has ever seen at the famous Christmas Place. It had a rack at least 22 inches wide with 10 points shining like lanterns in the afternoon sunlight. Perfect.
Paul eased the rifle down, gently flicked his safety forward to fire and settled the crosshairs over the monster's heart and picked his spot. The big deer turned it's head and licked it's side and left a wet spot in the exact location he was aiming. Perfect. The last thing he remembers thinking was "Don't Screw This Up"
Paul pulled the trigger....... nothing happened, he resettled the crosshairs, the big buck was posing RIGHT THERE! He pulled the trigger..... he pulled it again. The deer took a chomp of grass. Paul pulled the trigger some more... Nothing.
Panicked he eased the gun down and looked at his safety. It was forward but a small wad of thread from his raggedy gloves was caught in the mechanism. The big buck was RIGHT THERE!
He pulled the glove loose, the gun went off! Paul froze in shocked disbelief! Startled, the giant buck made for the hills and Paul sat there completely stunned as the day faded away into darkness. Perfect.

Zookeeper...Me!

Things have really changed at the famous Christmas Place Plantation and Exotic Petting Zoo since Trent killed that monster buck. The bar has been raised to such a standard that everyone is afraid to shoot a deer because it might be too small. So I am reduced to have all these nice bucks wandering around under my stand and can't make myself shoot one. Thinking about shooting myself... or Trent.
I guess I am becoming some kind of zookeeper. All I need is a pith hat and a net, no rifle required.
So if you come to our petting zoo, bring corn to feed the varmints but you will not need a gun.

Trent's 280 lb. Buck?

Trent Howell shot the biggest deer ever taken in our camp this past weekend. It was a 10 point that weighed in at 282lbs. That's bigger than Camo! Yes, we weighed the damn thing, twice. He shot this rhinocerous at the Point Stand and HEY! Paul is out there hunting right now! Paul ! That deer is dead! Come back! Too late, he's already been antlerized. So we are heading to the camp with a vengeance to get a big buck on Wednesday and to stay through the Thanksgiving holiday. Here are a couple of pics of the huge ga-ranimal.

Deer Eve

Today is Deer Eve in Mississippi, and in my little hometown of Water Valley everyone is gearing up for Opening Day of rifle season tomorrow. Of course there are a few other things going on here like it's raining like hell and the big game against Missouri is tomorrow but all in all the excitement and preparations for the big day are everywhere. I don't think I have ever seen as many 4-wheel drive trucks cruising the streets and every one of them has a 4-wheeler in the back or a Bad Boy Buggy on a trailer behind it.  Every vehicle has a rifle in a gun rack too! It also looks like the whole town has gone Camo. Hunting clothes are the fashion of the day and got to have those hunting boots and a knife on their belt.
In the distance the ringing of gun shots is going on even in the pouring rain as people line up their rifles at the last minute. Do you know how expensive bullets have become? Can't waste many!
Hopefully the rain will clear off and a pretty day will dawn tomorrow so that we can all get that big buck we are dreaming about. Where are my boots?

Shootout At Christmas Corral

The muzzleloader weekend was a great success as 11 deer were taken to start off the year. Trents' guest (The Tennessee Duo) of Jim and Jack got 4 to take back to the hills of Tennessee, the Coast boys got 5 and Burney and Paul got one apiece.
Erin and I hunted but got zero.
It was a good time and was glad to see Stewart Allen and Tim Cosby there too. As usual they didn't get a deer either.

It Starts Today

This afternoon Camo and I are headed to camp for the early doe muzzle-load season. The camp needs to take 30 or 40 does this year and it is a great time to bring guests to help with this and to enjoy some pleasant weather (usually). I am ill-prepared again but heading south to get it going. Erin is meeting me there and hopefully she can get a hog too!

Grooving At The Grove

Here I am with Spencer at the Grove for the Arkansas game. I know he does not have a cool name like "Catfish" but I love him anyway.

Escape From The Planet of the Hogs

Oxpatch, MS> Saturday, the damn hog people of Arkansas poured into town to visit Ole Miss and were ready for an upset as they played mistake free ball. We barely managed to escape the trap and defeated those loathsome hogs 34-24. This sets in motion the last two games against Missouri and Cow U. to be very big games.
Deer season is about to crank up and we are ill-prepared as we have been all up in the Rebels this year. We are heading to camp this weekend for the first primitive weapons season and hope to put some deerses on the pole to get things moving in the right direction. Remember our Battle-Cry "Death To Hogs!"

Haunted Lights Of The Great Swamp

The Great Swamp lies just west of the famous Christmas Place. Large parts have been turned to cropland and cut with roads now so that it is not the impenetrable swamp it once was but the remaining parts are dark and full of mystery.  Here, the Haunted Lights of the Great Swamp are still feared by the locals.

In 1885 the civil war was over and the people of the delta were still trying to rebuild their lives by farming. Small farmers ruled the day on small 50-100 acre farms and no one here had the ability or money to have the vast farms that had thrived before the War. Even so, a new bank for these small farmers was built in Tchula. Trade on the river was good and cotton prices were rising. It looked like the beginning of a new and better time for everyone, except that there is always someone willing to try to take what others have worked so hard to acquire.

Three men with fast horses had planned the robbery of the Citizens Bank of Tchula on a late fall Halloween day when a large amount of new money was in the bank to pay the farmers for their meager cotton crop. Entering the bank and filling their saddle bags with cash, the robbers fled south after a brief gunfight that left one bank guard dead and another wounded.  They crossed the South Bridge and the railroad headed towards Yazoo City. Just north of Thornton, they turned into the Great Swamp and headed for their little hideout and a boat on the Black River that would take them downriver under the cover of night, hopefully to disappear forever. The only problem with their plan was the rain.

At the turnoff, a storm hit that had sprang out of the West. Rain hammered down and at first it helped them by covering their tracks and keeping people off the roads, but it did not let up as they wound deeper and deeper into the dark swamp. By the time they reached their camp it was dark and the water in the river was quickly rising. Leaving their horses, they climbed aboard the john-boat, lit a lantern, and headed downstream toward the Yazoo River.

In an hour they were completely lost. The swiftly rising water pushed them into places away from the river and their lantern had been extinguished by the driving rain. All they could do was ride the currents and hope to find way out, then through the blinding rain they saw a light.
They could go no further and headed in that direction until they came to a high spot in the flooded bottom and pulled their boat ashore.  Carefully they moved toward the light and it disappeared. It reappeared moments later and they kept working toward it as it seemed to move just outside of their reach. Deeper and deeper they went with the siren sight of the flickering lights leading them. Their eyes began to glow, they lost all sight and sound, and still they blindly struggled and pulled themselves through the muddy swamp following the deceiving lights, totally lost and condemned to a hellish death.
The boat finally washed away and the money was lost to the great Swamp.  The search party found the horses but the three men were never seen alive again.  The rumor is told that on Rainy Halloween nights, and you are deep in the swamp coming out after hunting,  the rotting, skeletal corpses of the three men can be seen wandering the Great Swamp still following the ghostly haunted lights. Be careful that you don’t join them.

A Night In The Attic

I had seen the old man watching from across the street during the time my brother, Paul, was moving in to the Old Water Valley Hospital that has been converted into a beautiful antebellum style home.

Paul and his wife, Wanda, could not have been happier and I figured like everyone else in town, that the old man was just enjoying watching new life being breathed into the town, but after a few months it seemed that he was there watching the house almost every time I drove by.

One slow afternoon I saw him, parked my car in the driveway and went over to talk to him. He was old, using a cane but seemed fit, but a haunted look was in his eye as he glanced at me and back to the house. I asked him how he was doing and we passed the time for a few minutes until I asked him why he kept showing up and watching the house. He went back to staring at the house for a few minutes and I thought he was not going to answer, but then in a low voice, he started to talk.

“Did you ever hear of the Vincent family that used to live there?” he asked, pointing with his cane at the big house. I told him “No”. He grunted and continued. “When I was a boy, my best friend Fletcher Vincent and his family moved into that house for a few months, that’s all it took, a few months.” He nodded a few times and said “the house looks like it did then and we were a couple of adventurous kids, so when he invited me over to stay the night, we thought it would be fun to sleep up in the attic.” I could feel gooseflesh on my arms as he continued, “We were 12, just 12 years old. Fletch and I played cards, talked about girls and what we wanted to do when we grew up and had a great time. We stayed up late until his Momma told us to turn out the lamp and get to sleep in the 2 cots up there. We did and talked some more until we drifted off to sleep.” The old man turned his head back and forth as if trying avoid a blow and in a raspy voice said  “ I woke up freezing , it was summer but I was so cold and it took me a second to realize all my covers were gone and it was deathly quiet and I was so scared I couldn’t move. Very little light came in the window but I could see someone was in the room with us, just a few feet away, crouching between the beds. I didn’t move, I was too scared to move. Just then I heard Fletcher move, heard him say “Mom?”, A horrible voice went “Ah! And there was a rushing sound and then  a terrible scream. I jumped for the stairs and fell down them, hitting the door and rolling out on the second floor screaming for help.”

Mr. Vincent was there in seconds, I pointed and yelled that someone was up there, and we rushed up the stairs with Mr. Vincent holding a lantern high over his head and holding a big horse pistol ahead of him. Upstairs he was yelling Fletch’s name, but there was no answer,the attic was empty. Mr. Vincent tore the room apart, looked under the beds, in every part of the attic but no one was there. I grabbed his arm and pointed to the bed. In the center where Fletcher had been lying was a huge pool of blood soaking the sheets. It was an awful night and I never saw him again.” I could see tears in his eyes as he finished. “The police, the Sheriff, all the neighbors searched the town, the woods, the whole county and never found anything. The Vincent’s left not long afterwards, they never found him, and they never found a clue as to what happened.” I stared at the grief stricken man until he said, “You tell your brother not to let anyone go up there, he would be better off nailing the stairway shut, but whatever he does tell him to never let anyone sleep up in the attic again.”

Rebels Defeat Swamp People

The smell of corndogs hung heavy over Vaught-Hemingway Stadium as the LSU team left the prison buses and marched onto the field Saturday night. Their fans were confidant, cocky and obnoxious as usual, dressed in their gaudy gold and purple or prison-stripe jumpsuits holding a 'possum by the tail and swinging it over their heads, and of course eating corndogs. They never expected a wounded and depleted Rebel team would give them a game much less beat their sorry ass.
The Rebels fought and clawed their way to one of the best victories I have ever seen, kicking a field goal to win as the clock ran out, It was a dagger to the heart of those swamp people who abandoned the stadium like rats leaving a sinking ship and slinking back to the swamps to lick their wounds.
REBELS SHOCK #6 LSU 27-24.

Squirrel Camp Results

When the squirrel assault began against the overwhelmed hunters at the famous Christmas Place, they managed to form a firing line as the evil squirrels raced from limb to limb above their heads dropping huge acorns and pecans and wounding many in the group. But they held and managed to kill 100 or maybe 1,000,000 (I get confused) of the sharp toothed rodents. After the victory, the hunters returned to camp to drink whiskey, listen to ball games, relax and clean their weapons.
Hell, even Jones managed to blast one or two. A great weekend and the squirrel and dumplings was delicious.

The Moon Doggy

Halloween is one of the best times to be a the famous Christmas Place. The weather is pleasant and usually cool at night. We don't get the chance to be there very often but
when we do it is always a special time once the sun goes down. We always have a big fire outside and it is a time for ghost stories to be told and for old legends of the area
to be repeated. One of the scariest is the story of the Moon Doggy.
On a full moon sometimes you can hear a wild and terrifying howl that echoes through the woods and sweeps down through the valleys. A terrifying sound that seems to freeze the
blood. Locals know the horrifying cry and say it is the Moon Dog or Moon Doggy. A terrible wolf like creature that prowls the night and can run on 4 legs but can stand like a
man when it wants. It keeps to the darkness and shadows and has been known to kill all kinds of animals from cattle to deer to dogs and even unwary humans.
Tales of people who have seen the beast are passed on and the legend grows, and mommas always tell their children to be careful in the woods or the Moon Doggy might get them.
No one within 20 miles of our land would dare go in the woods at night without a light and a gun and it has been a good story to tell around the campfire and scare our guest
and kids, but recently we have found slaughtered wild hogs that have been ripped apart by some ferocious animal of immense strength. There was talk of maybe a mountain lion but
the old timers that hunt these hills say it is the Moon Dog and a new cycle of terror is coming. The last reported sighting has been almost 10 years ago when the moon was in a
cycle very close to Earth. It seems the few sightings and bloody killings only coincide with the closest and biggest full moons like the one that is coming this year.
So if you come down this year keep your eyes open and don't wander off alone, especially without a gun or the Moon Dog might get you.

Squirrel Camp This weekend

The annual Tree Rat Eradication Program starts this weekend at the famous Christmas Place. Dad has already scoped out his spot on the edge of the North Cornfield where a gigantic pecan tree is just dripping with ripe pecans. I imagine he will have the limit by 8 AM. and then squirrel and dumplings Saturday night for everyone. Should be a fun hunt this year as the damn squirrels are about to take over the place. PS- Everyone one needs to bring a few buckshot or slugs for their shotgun in case a wild hog wanders by.

Ghost Tales

It is October and I am busy trying to put together more of the weird and terrifying TRUE stories from the famous Christmas Place, Water Valley and other parts of Mississippi.
A Night in the Attic- about Paul's haunted house here in Water Valley.
Death in the Great Swamp- what happened to a trio of bank robbers here 60 years ago?
The Boogey-Man of the Bluffs- a werewolf prowls the edge of the delta on the full moon.
these and other stories are being put together to chill you for Halloween.

The Young Howell's Choose ATO

Oxford, MS- Over the weekend young Spencer Howell and Michael Howell chose ATO fraternity at Ole Miss to begin another chapter in their lives. We are very proud of them joining their cousin, Brock, at our fraternity and wish them well. Congratulations.
Here is a pic of the two young men enjoying their moment together as new pledges at ATO.

Happy 87th Birthday Dad

I was hoping to surprise Dad this morning on his 87th birthday, but he was already up and gone to camp. His idea of celebrating is driving a tractor, fishing, hunting or just prowling the woods until 4 o'clock in the afternoon when it is time for a relaxing drink and to talk about the day.
He has lost his hearing but not his drive and he is always on the move. The famous Christmas Place is his dream and he is living every moment of it. How many men his age can do half of what he does? Hell, I hope I can just live that long. Congratulations to one spunky, tough 87 year old!

A Finishing Touch

This past weekend at the famous Christmas Place we got the rest of the fields fertilized and planted. After the recent rain, the ground broke up easily and we planted everything very quickly without having to die in 100 degree heat. We are very close to being ready for deer season, with only a few hard to reach fields that need over-seeding and to go and check all the stands to make sure they are safe and usable. This is a pic of us at noon Sunday relaxing and enjoying the cool weather around a small fire before going home. Paul Jones, Stewart Allen, Greg Jones, Dad, and Paul Howell. Trent had already left. We had drinks and mostly talked about the upcoming squirrel camp.
It was great to see Greg Jones at camp again as he has been conspicuously absent sent the woodpecker incident as you know. (Don't ask) He says he will be at squirrel camp.

Yowzah! That's A Catfish

Dad and Paul Jones caught this big 60lb. catfish on throw lines over on the Yazoo River this past weekend.

Art Crawling With Paul

This weekend is the annual Water Valley Art Crawl and since my evil brother Paul has become a homeowner in town, he is trying to learn all about art, humanity and social graces. HA-HA-HA!
Wanda is dragging him up here to beat a little culture into his thick head.

 2013 Water Valley Art Crawl

The Art (and Music) Crawl is happening Saturday, September 21st, from 5:30 to 9 p.m., followed by a live Runway Show on Main Street featuring the fashion designs of Julia Ray.  Join us at the private After Party at PizzaGetti, 407 N. Main Street, with live music by Kevin Guyer and Friend.
This event is free to the public. There are 15 stops on the tour; eight are new to this year’s Crawl. All but one of the Crawl locations are within easy walking distance of each other. Stops on the tour will offer visitors light refreshments and a peek into the private world of working artists. Some studios will include displays of other local artists’ work. Children are welcome!
Artists participating in this year’s crawl include Erin Austen Abbott; Rachel Ballentine; Bill Beckwith; Lane Berg; Sophia Burandt; David Burke; Kichea Burt; Ashley Chavis; Obie Clark; John Steele Davis; Pati D’Amico; Mari Foster; Coulter Fussell; Hanne Gaycken; Katrina Geenen; Vanessa Gilpin; Amanda and Jason Heavner; Peyton Hill; Tracy McMinn Marberry; Robert Montgomery Holleman; Patsy Humphreys; Libby Kuchta; Sheri Marshall; Rebecca, Jennifer, and Savannah McGavock; Jennifer Pace; Megan Kingery Patton; Julia Ray; Natalie Rodgers; Euphus Ruth; Pablo Sierra; Keith Stewart; Lucia Vinograd; Bill Warren; Brooke White; Brian Williams; and Haley Yurkow.  Poetry by Terry Rockett.
Musicians include Zack Kelso; Eric McGehee; Brad, Brody, Sam, and Molly VanWinkle;  Bryan Ward; Peanut Winkler; Eddie Wood; Reiko Yamada; Andrew Yurkow; and Matther and Charlie Zidecker.
Galleries on the Crawl are Bozarts, J. Clayton’s Eclectic Arts, b. Gran Designs, and Yalo Studio.
In addition, a collection of original paintings and prints from Walter Anderson, his daughters Mary and Leif, and his grandson Chris Stebley will be on display at the Burke home.
Crawl maps can be picked up the night of the event from Yalo Studio (303 N. Main Street) or Bozarts Gallery (403 N. Main Street).

Bevo Day

Today is a state holiday here in Mississippi as most of the people here are still drunk from the aftermath of the game played between the Ole Miss Rebels and the Texas Longhorns, which our beloved and humble Rebels dominated and beat the crap out of those guys 44-23.
When the bus came through there was a massive set of longhorns attached to the front of the bus and amid the party noise you could smell juicy steak being grilled for all. It is not everyday you put a whooping on Texas. The Texas mascot "Bevo", the giant longhorn, was unavailable for comment.
GO REBS!

Growing Deerses

This weekend is the big planting weekend and all the members are penciled in to be there. Of course, some who shall remain nameless like Paul, are trying their best not to be there. So far Mark, Burney Rex, Paul, Trent, Dad, Austin, Spencer are coming. Somebody call the birthday boy Michael and the homeboy, Drew.
Top secret and special blends of seed will be used to entice the deer to eat and grow on our property. Boy I'm really enthused about those new marijuana laws!
The weather is supposed to be hot, Hot, HOT! I am sure a few members like Paul will die of heat stroke but it is a big weekend coming up. Will take pics of the bodies.

TailGating is Hunting!

This weekend we are all heading to the Grove at Ole Miss for our first tailgating party of the year. Everyone will be there. Mark and Kim Stewart are really the host, Denise and I, Drew, Spencer, Burney, Davin and a host of others. Paul and Wanda will drop by and it will be a fun-filled day of football, crowd watching and catching up on hunting, hunting stories and where we are going to hunt come opening day. We also might talk about all the beautiful women just wandering around everywhere. Put going to the Grove for a football game on your bucket list.

Labor Day Lament

Yes, it is Labor day and a time that we have traditionally hunted doves and been together as a family to kickoff hunting season. But here I am in Water Valley not doing anything, thanks to being turned into a vampire by my dentist. You really do not want to know.
I don't have the energy to be out and about at the camp and am driving Denise crazy taking care of me. Just another minor setback in the life of a famous Blogger.
I have been horrible at keeping up my blog and hope to do better as the deer season starts but I have been really busy. Just crazy busy and there is no rest for the wicked.
I do have the beginnings of a Halloween Story I'm working on and a few reports of a giant buck wandering around the edge of the camp to report on. Thunderhoof says hi and I will get to work next week reporting on the strange things happening at the famous Christmas Place.

The Tribe Of The White Arrow

Chief YoSenAToBy was the leader of the Chickasaw band of Indians that lived at the famous Christmas Place 

many moons before the tribe was moved on “The Trail of Tears” to Oklahoma. He was a very smart leader and became famous in Mississippi as the leader of the Tribe of the White Arrow.

The proud and cunning warrior had a vision when he was made Chief. The Spirit of the Great Deer of the Hills appeared to him and showed him the white rock in the streams and sides of the bluff and told him to protect his people in a way that all would realize the greatness of the Tribe.

As the Indians made arrowheads, he realized that his tribe would become widely known in the Indian world if all of his warriors would use the abundant white quartz in the creeks and hillsides to make arrowheads and spears. Later, they even dyed the shafts of their arrows white and became much feared and respected among the Mississippi tribes as the white men first entered the country.

Everywhere, he became known as Chief White Arrow and the Indian people of the bluffs became known as the Tribe of the White Arrow. 

When they left Mississippi they left this stuff everywhere.

I am putting up a few pics of the arrowheads for you to see.

We find the damn white rock everywhere and the yellow streaks in it sure are pretty, but we just toss it out of the fields. The arrowheads and spear points are all over the place but who wants a lot of leftover Indian trash poking holes in the tractor tires and breaking our disk.  

Thunderhoof Beer!

The owners of the Yalobusha Brewing Company have been negotiating for months, and bothering the crap out of me, to make a deal with Thunderhoof King of the Deer to name their new brew, Thunderhoof Beer. That stupid deer has no interest in a beer named after him. Here are Denise and me with Ronnie and Vivian Snider visiting the new Brewery during the Watermelon Carnival.

Fish! Fish!

Last weekend Dad and his crew ran lines on the river. They brought in a whole boatload of catfish.

Erin's Birthday

We went to Buffalo Wild Wings for Erin's 16th Birthday party and yes she got an I-phone. She just turned 16, clear the streets she gets her drivers license next week!

Watermelon Carnival 2013

Denise and your friendly neighborhood blogger

                                     watermelons everywhere!

crowds of people melting in the humidity

                            Tyler Hill showing off a monster melon

The largest watermelon this year was 147 pounds

Watermelon Carnival Week

The vendors are setting up across the street from Howell Enterprises and the excitement of the annual Watermelon Carnival is beginning. I do not know if we can beat the excitement from last year as the world famous skydiver, Dirk Danger (the man without fear), jumped from a biplane that flew over the park in Water Valley to start the Carnival. Thousand watched as he did cartwheels and flips on his plunge toward the Earth and then watched as he screamed like a girl that his parachute would not open as he came zooming down and landed in a gigantic load of watermelons in the back of Percy McCall's pickup. Watermelon flew 30 feet in the air! We thought he was dead for a minute, until they dragged his stupid butt out of the pile with a broken arm, broken leg, 5 broken ribs and 2 black eyes. The crowd cheered and begged him to do it again but Dirk had had enough and left by ambulance soon after Percy gave him the bill for the Watermelons. I don't think he is returning this year.
Don't worry, we will be live blogging all the action at the DEER CAMP BLOG!

Working On #1

Spencer is ready to start at Ole Miss as soon as I can throw him out of the house. Spencer feels like the Rebels are ready to make a run at #1 this year or he is studying to be a proctologist. School is just about to start. Good Luck Spencer!

The Bridge From Hell

I want you to know that I was working on the gate and did not have a hand in the screwed up repair of the old wooden bridge leading into our property. I did mange to catch the last few minutes as Paul and Mark staggered off the bridge bragging about what a great job they did. It was totally FUBAR, but those two went back to the camp to have milk and cookies and refused to fix it correctly. Here is that hard worker, Paul the construction worker, at his finest.

I am just sorry we did not get to sell tickets.

The Howell Open

Friday morning came early and Trent was up sharpening the edge of his mashie before daylight. It was going to be a tough and bloody day on the golf fields of Water Valley.
Tee off was 10 AM and everyone was there and ready with their game faces on as our starter (Bebo) screamed GO!. The teams smacked their balls into the fairway and the game began.
As the song goes, "when the cutting was done, the only thing that wasn't bloody was the soles of Bebo's feet. I mean there was a rat killing of monumental proportions as the heroes Rex, Kent, Betty and Jay waxed the floor with those losers. We are the CHAMPIONS!

Participants and cheerleaders

the WINNERS!

Howells and Bullions 2013

July 4th Howell Jubilee

The day started early at my Aunt's house with our skeet shoot. My Aunt Maralyn finished 2nd but to her credit, a chimney sweep did swoop down just as I shouted "Pull!" She got the bird but not the skeet. She felt bad, but Good Grief, she is 90.

After that we had the usual events, sword fighting in which the young Bullions did well, Archery which we dominated, 400 meter target shooting, staves, hand to hand combat and hatchet throwing which my brother James won. Of course he is the only one of us to ac

tually have to kill a bear with a hatchet so.. understandable.
Then there was the deer roping which if you don't know is not some easy event. The winner is usually the one that doesn't end up in the hospital for a couple of hours. There was rock climbing, knife throwing, and a 5 mile run with full packs (my Aunt finished 7th, she is 90 you know). One of the fun events is a full out Dirt Clod War where sides are chosen and forts defended. I think it was a draw but my head still hurts.
That afternoon a full feast of great food with plenty of desserts for the ones that could still walk.
Later we topped the night off by going to the fireworks at Ole Miss. Another great family 4th of July for the Howell Clan.