and it is still 3 below at the beagle ranch. aka copperhead road, ah yes john lee pettymore same as his daddy and his daddy before,

when will it ever end. this thing we call winter?

all the rods are restrung. (again) batteries charged (i'm not), tackle is all sorted and reorgnized. so why am I sitting hear typing and watching 3crows fight over a piced of dried bologna I tossed out in the yard, ever watch a black bird try to hang on a bird feeder and get a sun flower seed, there dunb, so am I for tryng to figure a way to cook them and make myself believe I am eating quail. looks like a coal truck went by the house and lost part of there load, black feathers everywhere. oh well at least the pond is going dry and the fish are probably all dead, but that is not all bad, ought to be some good fish soup stock when it all thaws. ummmm fish soup. that stuff sucks,

saw a couple eagles this am they were looking over the chicken housed up the road from me. always a easy meal up there.

well coffee is ready, best get to sipping.