Hunt

I loved squirrels. We had them living in the trees where I lived. The best was laying on the couch in the three window bay, and watching the squirrels chase each other through branches of the Oaks and Walnuts, especially when there was about an inch of snow powder on the branches. The snow would fly in clouds as they scampered fairly flying after each other, and jumped from branch to branch.

My gun was in two pieces for car carry, and I was so drunk I could not put the thing together. I wandered around in a drunken daze, swearing and cussing and trying to figure it out. Probably was very lucky I couldn't, 'cause could have shot myself or someone else. I got separated from the group --- lost and decided to walk home. The problem was there was about three miles of swamp between me and town.

There was a time a few years back when I was briefly a boyscout. The troop did a camp-out not far from where I was daze wandering, over on the edge of Hansen's farm, which adjoined the swamp. This was my first outing with these scouts, about twelve guys. Turns out I was the only guy with mosquito netting, with my Sears and Roebucks tent my mother bought for me. The swarms of mosquitoes were so thick you had to be careful how you breathed. They were like a thick fog. A bonfire was built for warmth and to keep the mosquitoes at bay. What they all had for tents was some kind of army surplus A-frame tents without netting. I went to bed while all the rest were out around the bonfire joking, singing doing the scary stories.

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