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.