Fishing With Thunderhoof

If you ever come to the famous Christmas Place to go fishing and we go out to get in the boat and that damn Thunderhoof shows up and wants to go, do yourself a favor and go on back to the camp.
He is the worst fishing companion ever. Almost every time I want to go, he shows up. Camo and I can't catch a fish to save our souls.
First of all a 500 lb deer should not be in a 12 foot aluminum boat. Just saying.
He always has his head in the tackle box, eats all the sandwiches, and for no reason at all, he will reach out and stick his head under the water just to look around.
Every now and then he will just jump out of the boat, splashing enough to drown you, then swim around the boat for awhile and then try to get back in.
 You are going to get wet, very wet.
He almost always gets the fishing line wrapped in his antlers and God help you if you actually catch a fish! He goes crazy!! Jumping around, dancing, trying to look at the fish, running back and forth in the boat, pawing at the fish, picking them up in his mouth and shaking them until you are covered in slobber, then he will jump out of the boat.
 You are going to get wet, very wet.

A Party For Cullen

This past weekend the Lammeys threw a party for my cousin, Cullen, who recently passed and in the tradition of the Lammeys and Howells, they threw a great party to send him off. The party was at the VFW in Hernando with food, drinks, war stories and  great renewing of our ties with family.
Here is a pic of my favorite people in the world
Jack Rhea, Davin Lammey, Your friendly neighborhood blogger Rex Howell, and Jim Lammey.

Gobble! Gooble! Double! Double!

My brother James and his daughter, Mahala, got a double! Congratulations!

Everybody Got A Turkey (but Paul)

Turkey season is in full swing and everybody I know has already blasted a turkey but my poor brother Paul. (Boo Hoo, It's terrible.) People are walking up and down the streets with 25 lb. turkeys hanging across their backs. Little old ladies in the grocery store have a shotgun under one arm and a big turkey under the other. Turkeys are everywhere. I can't go to the mailbox without one trying to grab my mail. Can't play golf without a big gobbler trying to steal my ball. Water Valley has them wandering in and out of traffic and they have become a major nuisance. Even so, Everybody has killed a turkey. What's wrong with Paul?