Rex Shrugged

I am in the process of reading the famous book by Ayn Rand called "Atlas Shrugged". I have heard about it all my life and now wish that I had read it 30 years ago.
I am in the middle of it and don't know whether to laugh, cry, or hide under my bed until all the motors in the world cease.
I recommend that everyone out there take the time to read this fascinating novel.
"Who is John Galt?"

Sudden Impact

I received this link from Kim Jones today. This is Sudden Impact, the largest whitetail buck in the world.

You can see more at www. farmingforwildlife.com

247 ACRES

Mark (Mailrider) Stewart and I have 247 acres in Yalobusha County, Mississippi. This is a the best pure hunting tract I have run across. the National Forest is on three sides and it is chock full of deer and turkey. If you are looking for a reasonable property to purchase with excellent timber potential, this is it.
We are asking $1000 per acre. If you are interested, call me at 662-473-2499.

Toby Tubby's Gold (2)

As with most people, my grand thought on finding the grave of the rich Indian quickly faded. Work, Life, Kids, and the real world have a habit of intruding on grand schemes and ideas. So after a couple of months, the idea was way on the back burner until I received an appraisal assignment on Coon Town Rd.
The assignment was for a little FHA style brick home near the boat landing at the end of the old road. It was what I consider a cookie-cutter job that I should be able to get the pics, info and do the walk- through in about 20 minutes. The thought of this being the beginning of my hunt for Chief Toby Tubby never entered my mind.
The Coon Town Road begins at a three way split in front of the old College Hill Church and as I turned onto the road, the thought of the destroyed historical marker and my Aunts’ words came back to me. I completed the field part of the appraisal and returned to the church, turned north for a quarter mile and stated looking for what was left of the marker.
I found the site, pulled over and went to take a closer look. All that was left was the concrete slab partially pulled out of the ground and part of the twisted metal pole that had held the square green tribute for Toby Tubby.
It had taken some work to remove the marker and it did not make sense. Drunk college students at Ole Miss might have done it, but it would have taken a lot of exertion. The concrete slab had to be at least three feet thick and a big truck would have had to be used to pull and twist the marker off. It seemed like a pretty stupid prank to me and the odds were that someone would be caught sooner or later showing it off on campus or in a dorm room.

I returned up the road and stopped at the Church. I did not know why, but I wanted to walk around it and just look. It had been at least 20 years since I had walked the grounds and the history of the land, the old legend and I think a little of missing my grandmother swept over me. I walked up the old brick path.

Turkeys 2, Hershel 0

Hershel Howell went across the beaver dam to hunt at the Box Field on friday morning. He set his decoys and relaxed. Turkey sign was plentiful and it was a beautiful morning. No sight or sound of turkeys, as he used his bag of tricks, until a little after 8 o'clock. Then he heard the distinctive gobble of an old gobbler about a hundred yards down the ridge. He worked the turkey for about an hour until he saw movement heading his way and a hen and the big gobbler came out heading for his decoys. It gets a little foggy after this.
Dad says the Gobbler was standing in the wide open at 26 steps in full strut when he pulled the trigger. The turkey jumped, then flew across the field and took off running like a racehorse. He stared, completely amazed that the dead turkey was still hauling booty down through the woods. He looked and looked, no gobbler. He returned to camp disgusted with himelf and making noises that he was too damn old and feeble to kill a turkey. Says he is a has-been. Please leave a few encouraging words.
Remember- It is better to be a has-been than a never-been.

Toby Tubby's Gold (1)

I am not a researcher.
I am not a great history buff, even though my life is intertwined very closely with the history of the rural south, the Civil War and the generations of people that have lived and struggled here.
I am a real estate broker in a small town just south of Oxford, MS, while my father and his family are all from the Oxford area. I grew up learning all about Oxford and it’s deep and wonderful history. Growing up, my grandmother took us to all the old family homesites and gave us the history of all the people of the area. She was a Burt from out at Clear Creek and seemed to either know or to be kin to everyone in Lafayette county. My father graduated from University High School as did my Aunt Marilyn (Melly) and Uncle Jim and I loved the stories they told of growing up there, attending Ole Miss, hunting the swamps of the Tallahatchie Bottom, and all the antics my Dad would tell of his wild childhood.
I would not have paid a second thought about Chief Toby Tubby if my Aunt Melly, had not mentioned it one day when I stopped at her house for a quick cup of coffee. She is part of the Oxford Heritage Foundation and a member of the D.A.R., plus a myriad of other things as I found out later. She said that she was upset because the marker out near College Hill Church honoring the old Chief has disappeared again. It was the second time and the marker was very expensive. She doubted they had the money to keep replacing it.
Going home, I reviewed in my head the legend that I had heard about the famous Indian Chief.
Chief Toby Tubby had operated a ferry crossing the river north of Oxford near Wyatt.
He was very wealthy and even owned slaves.
When he died, the funeral procession left from near the College Hill Church up the Old Chickasaw Rd never to be seen again.
He was buried with all his possessions and the site was marked with a cedar tree planted on top. No other sign was left because they were afraid grave robbers would dig him up for his fortune.
His grave has never been located.
Not much information, but just enough for a buried treasure legend I laughed to myself, but later, the idea of finding it began to grow in my mind.

Golf Camp Set

for some reason, the word Pigeons comes to mind.

Preliminary Cover- Jeff's God

No, I have no idea what the surprise ending is. He has changed it around so much over the last twenty years that I have no idea.
PS- Dad has agreed to donate $1 per copy for every book we sell off this site to help raise money for the Outdoor Bloggers Summit. Hopefully the OBS site will post the book for sale too.

A Crack-A-Lackin' Link

I recently linked up with a so-called mommy blogger that has a humorous insight into the raising of children with all of it's wonders and strange twists. Her name is Mandy and she lives over in the mosquito infested Mississippi Delta. (She can't be too far from the Christmas Place)
She is raising her son, affectionately called, EB or Energizer Baby, and gives us insights into raising children from the ugliest parts to the warmest parts that melt your heart and leave you crying with love for them.
She runs the very popular blog known as Mommy Cracked. Go visit, make a new friend and delight in her trials and tribulations.

Assimilating The Senator

Tupelo Beta Seven, Gamma System> I met with Senator Roger Wicker last Monday and made sure to let him know that he and the rest of you puny humans will be ASSIMILATED.
My evil plan involves a complicated mapping system for carbon absorption rates and it looks like all the humans will probably have to be eradicated. Besides that, our conversation was very interesting and relaxed. We talked about Water Valley, Oxford and economic growth for our area and ways to increase it.
Then I told him about the second part of my plan.
Senator Wickers eyes grew wide with fear and astonishishment as I described my plan to reintroduce the deadly BIKINI MACHINE and my bid for world domination. He liked the idea of the bikinis but was not too hot about the world domination part. After security threw me out.. I mean.. after my dramatic exit, I thought more about our conversation.
The only part I need to work on is an evil name like my predecessor Dr. GoldFoot.
If you have any ideas, please leave a comment.

Yow !!!!!!

Look at these Spurs!

Dad and Trigger congratulate Michael.

It is not my fault Othmar and Matt are kicking themselves about now.

Feathers Finally Fly

Turkey Trot, MS> Feathers finally flew at the famous Christmas Place this past weekend as Michael Howell finally got a big gobbler. His father, Paul Loser Howell, may have helped a little bit with the calling. This large bird had a 9 and 7/8 inch beard and weighed 17 lbs. An old bird, it had 1 and 1/4 inch spurs and was a real limb hanger. This turkey was taken near the Voting Log Stand. Congratulations to Michael on a fine turkey. Here is a pic of Michael and Spencer with the turkey hanging on a limb.

It was a great Easter weekend with all the family coming in to visit. Burney cooked a wild hog and I think it was the best ever. Michael, Spencer, Dad, Hillary and Burney all caught crappie that afternoon and we cooked those too!



Sadie made a big salad for dinner, to top the meal off and we ate like kings.
The next morning we hunted and Spencer and I heard turkeys but they would not come in. Then we headed to Church in the little town of Eden and got a good dose of down home religion.

That afternoon we headed home and Spencer got a pic of this damn water-gator up the road from our place. Hmmm... I think I have something for that awful thing.
I can assure you that it needs to make sure it doesn't decide to mosey up to our lake.
All in all, a great family Easter that we shared together.

Seeing the Senator

Can't post Monday morning. I have a meeting with my U.S. Senator at 11 Monday morning in Tupelo. Ought to be interesting, will let you know the results later.

Pick Your Virtual Stand

Virtual Stands on the map are based on actual locations. The box field is where Marian ran out of bullets and the 10 Point stand is where Elizabeth will be hunting. Will be adding a topo map in color later. (hopefully) Not all stands are labeled but all are excellent for getting a deer or hog. Choose carefully.

OBS Regional Meeting

Good News! I just got clearance from the powers that be to move forward with the Outdoor Bloggers Summit Regional Meeting at the famous Christmas Place. My father, Hershel Howell, has agreed to give a turkey calling seminar as part of the fun.
My cousin, Burney Howell, has agreed to cook a wild hog, and my brother Paul has agreed to annoy the hell out of everyone.
The date will be in June. The weather should be nice and there are plenty of fish to catch and places to explore.
I am hoping to convince 8-12 people to come for the weekend, with maybe a few day-trippers joining us for Saturday. As part of the OBS, I also want to add at least one well-known journalist or writer to give a seminar also. Maybe we can find a blogger that has actually made a nickel that can give us a lecture too.
There is a chance that one of the hunting show people can be tricked into coming and talking about that aspect for our group. I am going to talk to the MDWFP to see what help I can get from them and the paper in Jackson, MS will be asked to visit and write an article about it.
Now if I can actually get someone to attend........

Welcoming New Links

First, I want to let everyone know that Steve Creek is back on the blogroll. He ran The Shed Antler blog for awhile but is now more into Wildlife Photography. Steve was one of my first links and I really miss his old blog. (He won't take my advice to just go ahead and combine the two.) Do understand this, He is an excellent photographer with wonderful pics that will delight your heart and make you come back for more. Please go visit his site at Steve Creek Outdoors.
What about Sparky? This is the affectionate name we gave Bob Phillips when he came to our camp after suffering a stroke. He moved so slowly that the name Sparky seemed just right. He and Marian have turned into two of my dearest friends. Bob has his own blog now called Two Dogs Tall. You will have to read it to learn how he got that nickname. Bob has lots of interests, but right now he is really into knives. Please go over and visit and make sure to add him to your blogroll.
Truthfully, I don't know much about elkses. Most of the shows I watch have some guy blowing a trumpet until a whole gaggle of them start running up to commit suicide. according to my friend Dennis Carroll this is not the way it really works. He runs a blog simply called, Montana Elk Hunting. Some of the massive elk he photographs are almost as big as Thunderhoof! He is a hunter and outfitter that knows his business. Before you go on a trip out there, I suggest you read his blog a bit and maybe email him to line things up. Go to his blog to say hi, check his stories of elk, the mountains and the big spaces of Montana. Tell him there is a deer down here with his name on it and they are a whole lot harder to hunt.

Turkey Taunts !

Friday morning I went to my next door neighbors home to do an appraisal. We live in town with all the traffic and people you could expect, and while talking to him in his backyard, a turkey flew by our heads and landed in a big pine tree over the street. She sat and stared at us for about ten minutes while we talked, then flew back off down the hill into the woods. The damn things are taunting me!
To make it worse, I finally played golf Sunday and the whole time I was out there, I could hear them calling and gobbling at me. I do not need that kind of distraction with my pitiful golf game. I feel retribution is at hand next weekend!

A Mucky Birthday

I do not usually give reviews on this site. (That's because they never send me free stuff.) I do want to mention the nice birthday present I received from the Mailrider. Mark bought me a pair of Mucks. He can afford to do so since his ship came in and he sleeps.. uh.. works at the Post Office.
The boots are slightly insulated, lightweight neoprene and I swear they are the
best light boot I have ever had. I have used them exclusively for turkey hunting this year and have had no problems. They do not cut easily, seem to breathe well and are extremely comfortable. Check on a pair if you get the chance.

We B Gone

The Outdoor Bloggers Summit has moved to the new site today and the new blog is sharp, very cool and up to date. A new badge will be available soon, but if you just link to it without the badge, copy this to paste into your sidebar Outdoor Bloggers Summit. Please go over and give Kristine a well deserved Thank-You for all her hard work.
Remember that it is a free site (yes, really free) for outdoor enthusiasts and bloggers.
the new site with Kristine is also on Twitter at OBSKristine. give her a tweet and say hello.

Hershel's Famous Hunting Speech

Abbeville, MS> We were still at our old camp in Abbeville and I was about 13 when it happened. It had been a long winter of deer hunting and no one had taken a deer that year. The hunters were tired, discouraged and flat worn out. Our supplies were low, tempers flared and most hunters were ready to throw in the towel.
Right at dark Mr. Fay Clemmons came in and said that he had seen a big boar coon right down the ridge as he was coming out of the woods and it had scooted up a tree and gone into a hole. That was all my Dad needed. Organizing a coon party, and securing a pistol they headed off and soon I heard the blam!, blam! of the pistol. The elated coon party arrived back at camp and I asked what they were going to do with the coon. “We are having coon for supper” my Dad answered. That left a sick feeling, but It wasn’t long ‘til the kitchen was filled with the smell of frying coon and everyone waited in hopes that it was edible. It wasn’t.
We nibbled on it, and pushed it around our plates and when we finally gave up on eating the damn thing, my father banged his glass a few times on the table then stood up.
He said in a jovial tone “I hope you all enjoyed the meal tonight and it looks like we have plenty if you are still hungry. His voice then turned steely and hard "Tomorrow, if someone does not kill a deer we will be having leftover coon for supper, so I suggest that you do not come in from hunting tomorrow without a deer!”
Needless to say, there were some serious hunters in the woods the next day and that morning the spell was broken and a deer was finally taken.
Please remember to sign up below for the Virtual Deer Hunt. I am going to need some action pics from our hunters.

The DCB Virtual Deer Hunt

I am going to start putting together a Virtual Deer Hunt at the famous Christmas Place. I have had this in my mind for quite awhile now and believe that it is going to be one of the hardest, and most fun endeavors that I have posted.
If you wish to be included, I need you to leave a comment and state whether you are hunting deer, hogs, fishing or just relaxing at the camp.

Elizabeth scanned the edge of the 10 Point Field from her stand and hoped that a deer would soon appear. As dawn broke, she could see the forest come alive around her with the barking of squirrels and chattering of birds. "Ten Point field" she thought to herself "Hmmmphh, I hope it is and not some crap Rex is pulling my leg about. He and his wild stories" Daylight was here and she scanned the edge of the field again, then studied the old forest around her with it's ancient trees and rolling, rugged strange landscape. So strange that maybe, just maybe, a lot of what he had told was true. She watched a squirrel for a minute, then heard the sound of footsteps moving toward her through the crisp oak leaves. Oh God, that sounds like a deer as her heart skipped a beat. The footsteps moved closer and sounded extremely heavy. A big buck? Oh My God, Maybe Thunderhoof? Was he real?
Her heart was racing and she felt like she had to pee, but steadied herself and eased her rifle into position as she finally saw movement at the edge of the field and the ............

Sign up and join me on a virtual deer hunt.
PS you are going to be in it anyway so you might as well sign up.

The Creepy Hippie

Water Valley, MS> When I went out on my porch yesterday, I turned to admire those stinking flea-bitten damn goats that have taken up residency in my side yard. Then I realized that there was a note attached to my wall.
GOATS HAVE FEELINGS TOO!
Obviously left by one of those stinking, long haired, unkempt, treehugging, goathugging, envirowhacko commie hippies that reads my blog (thanks!)
Witnesses told me that they don’t know his name but he has a tattoo that says TINY and he was heading south toward the office of Old Scratch.

Welcome Max

A new link on my sidebar is called Max Mississippi. They give a good roundup of interesting things going on in our home state right now. Crab boils, baseball, the science museum and penguins too.
Most of their links are local, Marian and Crystal need to link up with them.
They do not know it yet but I am laying plans for them to be the centerpiece of a Mississippi Bloggers badge like we are doing with the OBS.

Running A Business In Water Valley, MS

Water Valley, MS> First, my office is located in the middle of the so-called business district facing the town park/square.
You know that you are in Water Valley, MS when you step out the front door of your office glance into the vacant lot next to your office and see this...
Yes, I know it is a damn goat.
Where is my shotgun?

It Was Thaaaat Close

Defeated, MS> Hershel Howell came thaaat close to a perfect weekend and walked away with nothing. It started Thursday afternoon when he reached camp and decided to go up to the lake to see if the crappie were biting. He stood on the pier and in about 15 minutes had caught 6 slab crappie, enough for dinner for he and Trigger and Dad headed back to camp.
The next morning at daylight he was sitting in his blind at the Double Whiteoak field. He put on his earphones and holy crap!, he was surrounded by turkeys shaking the trees with their gobbling. It wasn't long 'till three of them came into the field to check out his decoys. They wandered closer and closer, then hung up at about 35 yards. He picked out a really gigantic gobbler and pulled the trigger. Bl-Plattt! Bi-Plattt? the bullet misfired and the 14 inch gobbler hopped into the woods and was gone.
I have very seldom ever heard of a shotgun shell misfiring but it was terribly bad luck at the most inopportune time. Dad headed back to camp and decided to go fishing again that afternoon.
He launched the boat and started easing around using his jig pole. He caught a couple of crappie and then hooked what he thought was a stump, a stump until it started towing him up the lake. Dad worked the fish for over an hour as it pulled him all over the lake and each time it swam under the boat to break his line he was lucky enough to spin the boat around. Most of the time the tip of his jig pole was almost bent double into the water. Finally, the big fish rose. He could see that it was a giant catfish of between 40-50 pounds. The fish stayed up for just a few seconds then dove straight under the boat. The hook finally gave out, snapped, and the big fish was gone.
He came thaaat close to a perfect weekend.

The Bushwacker Grove

Chestnut, MS> No, I did not get a turkey. We only went to camp this weekend to meet David Hyde, who had come up to fix us all a quail dinner. Let me tell you that it was delicious. Meeting with David gave me some ideas how to upgrade the blog a little also. Hope you will enjoy what I have in store for you. Especially, Elizabeth at Deer Passion who says that I having been creeping her out lately (a lot).
Spring is in the air here. The dogwoods are in bloom and the time had come to keep a promise to my old friend The Suburban Bushwacker. We have talked about planting chestnuts on the Christmas Place from jolly old England but did not get it worked out. That's OK. While I was in Ireland and France I picked up handfuls of chestnuts and brought them back. I promised I would plant them and name the spot, Bushwacker Grove.
Denise, Camo and I headed to the north cornfield and the grass facing it and I started planting the seeds. We marked them with red flags and I sure hope they make it. I also hope the damn hogs don't find them. Denise would not get off of the 4-wheeler because she was afraid of snakes and Camo was not worth a damn helping me plant the chestnuts, she would not even look for shed antlers. Worthless! Denise did take pictures and we drove around a little looking for sheds with no luck and we headed back to camp. We did not stop and let Camo drink in the creek or get near water, Denise was afraid an alligator would get her and probably us too.

The planting did not take long and it was an absoulutely beautiful morning, so we had fun except Camo got tired and we had to haul her butt back on the 4- wheeler. So, it is done and the Bushwacker Grove is a reality. Remember to go over to his site and comment that this has been started for the Suburban Bushwacker when he finally comes over here to go elk hunting or try his hand at blasting the mighty Thunderhoof.

Jeff's God

My Dad just received news from his publisher that they are going to publish his second book named "Jeff's God"
This story centers on a 16 year old boy at the outbreak of the Civil War in Oxford, MS and his growth into a man as he fights in the Battle of Shiloh, is wounded, faces occupation from the Yankee troops, is sentenced to die as a spy, escapes with the Yankee payroll as he is about to be hung, his wild flight to New Mexico and the friendship he develops with the last of the free Indian tribes there.
He falls in love, faces all kinds of rigors on the trail, returns to Oxford and the era of Reconstruction, then makes a decision that changes his life.
A very interesting tale to say the least.
I have gathered almost everyones email address to send a notice out to. Hope you won't mind. Should be out in a couple of months.
I hope you all will enjoy it.

The Big Red Hog

Noturk, MS> "Whacka-Whacka, Quack, Quack, Squawk!" I expertly worked the old box call waiting for a big gobbler to appear. "Whack, Squawk-Squawk, Quack". The weather was cold and rainy, the sky was overcast and dreary and there was not a damn turkey in the whole county. I kept working the call while I slowly froze to death and suddenly in the distance I heard a single gunshot.
Paul had brought up his friend Joey Anderson and his son Trey to hunt on the first weekend of turkey season and it was miserable. They had opted out of the turkey hunt that Saturday afternoon and Joey had slipped into the box at the base of the leevee to try for a hog. He was excited to give it a try because he had never seen a hog in the wild before. It got interesting very quick.
The hog wandered out into the grass field right before dark and even at 300 yards Joey knew that the big red killer would get him if he was not careful. He eased his shaking arms around with the rifle and aimed. He had to make a perfect shot. What if that horrible thing caught him and ate him? He aimed carefully. BLAM!
I coaxed Joey out of the stand right at dark and we searched for about 30 minutes for the big red hog. No luck. We headed in to camp.
The weather was so nasty that we neither saw or even heard turkeys this weekend, but even so, Joey and Trey were excited about the big red hog. Coming in Sunday morning from another lonely turkey hunt, the hog was standing in the field again. They raced to the camp and Trey grabbed a rifle. He headed back, met Paul on the road and they started easing toward the red varmint. They drove within 60 yards of the hog without it spooking and stopped. Then the big red hog looked up and straight at Trey. Trey felt his bones turn to slush as he looked into the red flames in the big hogs eyes.
He threw up his rifle, hastily aimed, then BLAM! The hog looked around and trotted into the deep grass. Trey wiped the sweat from his brow and wondered how he could have missed. Paul wiped his face too, in disbelief, and headed back to camp.
The big red hog is still there ready to get any Andersons that wander by and hopefully Joey and Trey will redeem themselves and get another chance. Here is a pic of the losers at turkey camp.

The Mysterious Package

Water Valley, MS> When I reached my office this morning, I found a mysterious package sitting in the middle my desk. Now I am used to receiving death threats, strange powders and bombs in my mail from jealous bloggers, but I was a little confused with this one. Eagerly I checked the shipping label and Ah-Hah! This was the package from Scott Linden Outdoors! I double-checked it for explosives and ripped it open.

My brilliant, computer like mind had easily stunned the world as I won the Scott Linden Outdoors Radio Show giveaway. Besides the gobs of cash, there were some very cool gifts inside. A Coleman lantern/flashlight, a neat survival tool, an in the field knife sharpener, a book "Chasing the Hunters Dream" by Jeff and Sherol Engel, a nice old style tin ad to go on the wall celebrating Alaskan Amber Beer, a T-shirt with a Rainbow Trout on it from flyingfisherman.com and an autographed picture of the gorgeous Teena Hubbard. What more could a man want! Go visit their site, it is fun, informative and you too could win the Outdoor Giveaway.

A New Card/Badge

I have been tinkering with the idea for one of those little banners I see added to peoples pages. Of course, that stupid deer wanted to make sure he was on it. I stole the pic off Yahoo so I might have to redo it later. anyway let me know if you like it or have a better idea.

Back To Turkeys

Double Gobble, MS> Enough of that, let's get back to hunting. Turkey season opens this weekend and it looks like everyone except me and Mark are ready. Shooting turkeys at the Christmas Place is about like shooting fish in a barrel. We are heading down tomorrow even though the weather has turned cold, icy and very damn frosty.
I have no quarrel with the turkeys and only want to go in hopes Spencer can get one. If he doesn't go, Mark and I will probably sit out for awhile and stack them up like cordwood. Hell, Dad gets a turkey every year and he can't hear thunder. Too bad Othmar is not going to be here, running an empire doesn't leave much time for hunting. I hope to get Marian up in a week or so to try it and Critter too.
These turkeys are a nuisance and are messing up my deer hunting, if you are interested in blasting one of these overgrown vultures leave me a comment.

Painting the Kudzu Monster

Water Valley, MS> It was the spring after Katrina hit New Orleans as Bill Warren and his sweet wife Pati were doing what everyone does during Mardi Gras. Yes, they were staggering down Bourbon street at three in the morning on their way home. They were surprised (to say the least) when they spotted a giant deer covered with beads standing on the corner waiting for a street car. They immediately struck up a conversation and politely ignored the drunk naked woman riding on the deers' back. The deer told them all about the famous Christmas Place, me and the small town of Water Valley. Being adventurous, they decided to pack their things and move here for the small town atmosphere and growing art community and to be near the cultural artist center of Oxford and Ole Miss.
Bill and Pati are both exceptional artist and have quickly become a welcome part of the community. Bill knows art and had his own gallery in New Orleans and I want to introduce you to some of his work since he has been here.



"House On Panola"
this sits diagonally across from his home, and is a 30's style brick bungalow





"Kudzu Communion"
Bill has taken the quick growing and hated Kudzu and turned it into a living thing in many of his paintings.







"Kudzu Candidate"
maybe Kudzu is king here?







"Kudzuka and Friends"

this is my favorite and shows the influence of this horrible plant.



Bill calls everyday wanting to paint a picture of Thunderhoof. I hope that I can set it up soon and he can do as impressive a job as Susan did. Bill is set up with BrainWare Artworks in Water Valley and these are all for sale.
His email is puppetcode2@gmail.com to ask for pricing or to get info on his works.