This is the toughest month of the year for me because it SHOULD be fall, and it’s not even close. Didn’t we all learn that in kindergarten? Fall begins in September?
Well it isn’t true in Texas.
September is it’s own season here… It’s called Overbaked. Everything is crispy, blackened and tired, including me.
I will try friends, I will TRY not to whine too terribly.
For my men, September marks the beginning of dove hunting season. This means virtually nothing at all to me, but it means lots of spitting, scratching, gun-toting, stick out your chest fun for 4/5 of my family’s equation.
I’ll show you more of that tomorrow, so brace yourselves.
I went along for the ride with them yesterday, so that I could document this whole hunting business for posterity’s sake, and while yes, there was hunting, I think at least half of the fascination is the ride in Uncle Bud’s Mule with a biggo dog chasing behind 🙂
Cuz really, I don’t care what
month it is, that’s just good fun right there.