Wednesday, July 13, 2022

Stealing a riff from Bayou Renaissance Man

All of the developed nations of the world are...trying to force their citizens into mass housing in big cities, and at least discourage private property (primarily by making it too expensive for people to afford).     -Bayou Renaissance Man

A young city man went to visit his grandfather in the country.

The city man was surprised to see the grandfather had taken up the hobby of feeding birds. His sense of the grandfather was that the man had no sense of aesthetics and he was delighted to see that the higher sensibilities of the city were starting to sink in.

The young man immodestly thought he had something to do with the transformation so he redoubled his visits and his efforts to redeem the old man.

One thing the young man noticed was that the old farmer kept moving the bird feed around. It was always shelled corn, the cheapest feed possible, and it was always poured in a straight line that radiated away from the house.

The young man tried to advise the older man that he would be able to see more birds at a time if he spread the corn around. He also suggested that the corn be placed closer than the thirty-to-thirty-five yards from the house that the older man invariably spread the corn.

The bird feeding project ended abruptly several months after the old man started it. It happened on a crisp, fall morning when the young man happened to wake up early and he went down to the kitchen where the old man was eating his porridge.

The old man glanced out of the open kitchen window and slowly rose from his chair. Reaching behind the door, the old man extracted a battered, single-shot shotgun with a barrel that seemed cartoonishly long. Slowly sticking the barrel out of the window, the old man touched off the round.

In shock, the young man rushed to the window, sure that he would see a dead fox or feral cat that the old man had shot to protect his precious birds.

Alas, it was not to be. The young man saw eleven, prime, young turkeys twitching their last.

"Now we gotta git out there and pluck them birds" the grizzled old man told his grandson. "Most years it doesn't take this long to train them to line up their heads and necks like I need em to. Ammo is getting darned expensive."

The moral of the story is that old men don't change and if they suddenly become generous you might want to consider what could happen if you accept that generosity.


  1. Good story Joe. Thanks. I can use that to help consolidate my efforts.---ken

  2. Good friend's dad used to have a pet doe. He'd stake her out during the rut in the back yard. He shot many a buck through the screen door from the kitchen. He was far enough back in the hills to not worry about permits and seasons.

  3. As soon as I read the corn was being placed in a line, enfilade fire came to mind. A smart man that knows how to maximize efficiency of his resources while minimizing his labor cost.

    - Arc

  4. One of the rare times I was able to anticipate your story of what Grandpa was up to. The straight line radiating out from residence was the clue bat.

    I too have an old H&R 12 gauge. 30" full choked single shot for such an occasion. Alas - I live in the city so a 'pot shot' (stationary game) like that is extremely unlikely.

  5. I must try that. Will have to be careful not to hit my own turkeys, we have put a ton of money and time into raising them as breeders.


Readers who are willing to comment make this a better blog. Civil dialog is a valuable thing.