Works For Me!

It seems to be a fact of everyday life—EVERYDAY—that wherever breakfast is served in establishments open to the public, one can stumble upon, over, around and through a gaggle of gents confidently curing the world’s ailments. One by one. Despite the fact that they’re all talking at the same time. Did I say gaggle of…

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Jake Cures March Madness

Consternation, I would say, aptly described the look on the old hermit’s face. Of course, I’d never say it to HIM, because we’re forthwith contemplating a dissertation of explanation. I can just hear him now: “Ye said what? I look how? Do I need to pick up a oak limb?” It struck me that consternation…

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Meet Mister B.O. Mock, 96-Year-Old Deer Hunter

The gnarled finger sweeps across a vista to instantly quicken the heartbeat of any south Georgia deer hunter: chest-high planted pines bordered by a pond, a field and a hardwood head, requisite creek trickling through. “There in those pines is where we got pictures of at least one really good 8-pointer, and the other one…

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A Fitting End

As frequently happens, the first things that caught my eye were those looong legs! Hmmmmm… That was my left eye. My right was laser-focused on the swaying hips. Kinda reminded me of a girlfriend back in high school: walking away decked out in Dodge County red, she looked just like a box of Valentine’s candy!…

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The Dodgy Hares Of Woods-N-Water

Smack-dab in the middle of more than 5,500 game-rich middle Georgia acres; beagles squalling and roaring fit to blow needles off the pines; a perfectly frosty, sunny morning; perched squarely in the path of the already half-hour race—and leave it to Blaine Burley to come up with a kamikaze attack rabbit! Monday, Jan. 16, was…

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Honorable Mentions

Flip backwards amongst all these pages and somewhere you’ll trip across what I writ concerning Sam Muzayen. Which is about half of what I wanted to write, but other folks hereabouts is better at this than I is so they has to have their pages, too. Editorial Capacity Supervisory Specialist (I just made that up!)…

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Quitting Is For The Enemy

Normally, this is a period fraught with chaos. Never mind the ever-present and who-knows-how-deep black water, claustrophobic brush, vines and briers clawing and ripping; just hurry as best you can. Hounds are roaring out of their minds, hunters sloshing, tripping, bleeding, pushing on… Because some 987 interminable yards into the Okefenokee Swamp, a bear is…

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Look At It My Way

That I have an overactive imagination plus an abhorrence to being forced to sit still among fellow humans are not up for debate. My mind literally whirls; and my feet want to, even when they can’t. Amazing that I can perch in a TomCat literally for hours in perfect contentment; but surrounded in a doctor’s…

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Don’t Sit Still – Late-Season Moves For Bucks

December now, over half the whitetail season behind us, and yours is likely in one of three phases: full freezer, still waiting on that ONE—or cluelessly wondering where all the deer have gone. In the latter case, think maybe it might be time for a change? I’ve watched the evolution of Georgia deer hunting from…

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Nothing’s Easy Here

Somewhere out there in these 438,000 soggy, hide-ripping acres there’s got to be at least one EASY bear. You know, lazy, sloppy fat, slow, mild demeanor, half asleep, pacifist at heart: “You horrid old hounds really shouldn’t be nipping at me and acting so silly with all that yammering. I’m just going to sit right…

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