I held Angus out of school this morning. He was all worked up over the LCROSS Mission, and frankly so was I. We got up early to watch on the Nasa stream. It turned out to be a major boregasm (sigh!) They don’t make moon shots the way they used to. I’d never thought I hear myself saying I missed Walter Cronkite. Frankly, the guys they had for commentators seemed a little fey.

We headed down to camp. I had a couple phone interviews (I’m still out of work), but after that was over, we went scouting a bit. It was raining, but nothing serious. Angus likes walking in the rain. We went out to Midway ( the new shooting house) and on the way we bumped a deer. When we got there, there was a nice fat buck standing in the field. He sauntered off. I dropped off a can of spray paint and put camo covers on the pair of sand bags we’d left last weekend. As we were locking up, Angus heard doe bleats in the woods nearby. I came out and heard them too. I bleated a couple times myself, and got an answer.

On the way back to camp, a head-hunter called. We spent the last 10 minutes of the trip with me explaining my resume from 1992 to 1998. Even I get confused a little with those years. We concluded the call with a promise to have something for me by Tuesday. Yeah, I’ve been hearing that for over a year.

After a change into dry clothes, I caught a weather report– rain until 6 AM and a low of 45F. I can dig that. We got the gear ready and then I retired to the front porch to watch the rain. Along about 1900 EDT, a couple of doe came out. I brought Angus out on the porch and we watched them together with binos. They eventually left, and I went around back to watch a spot where I thought I might catch them on the other side of Hootin Holler.

Not only did the pair of doe show up, but also a nice doe/buck combination. They all seemed intent of getting as much of something– some long-stemmed forb– crammed in their mouths before it got dark. Dang! Whatever it was, it was manna to these deer. The buck was only a 4-pointer, but the rack was dark and rich. I told Angus that would make an ideal first buck.

Back on the front porch, the rain let up just a little and all of a sudden we started hearing shots from every quarter. Every father had every young son out trying to get the last practice shot in before it got dark. It was quite a fusillade there until darkness finally got the better of them. It’s now settled down again. The rain has come back. We’re inside for the night. From the number of shots, it is quite clear that a large number of young men and their fathers will go to bed praying for an end of the rain over night and a flash of antler in the morning.

And that’s the way it is, Friday, October Ninth. Goodnight from South West Bracken County Kentucky.

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