They got one!

Well our pheasant population is down by one.

Here are the great hunters with the man bird and Hank (the trusty old pickup).

Anyone have any good pheasant recipes?

Sunday spent at home

Here on the prairie of North Dakota, pheasant hunting season is in full swing. We spent yesterday in Linton, ND, and on the way down there, I think three of four cars were full of hunters.

Well today is Sunday and we are spending (most of) it at home.

Corey and his brother Andrew are hunting in the backyard.

From the sounds of it I will be cooking up some pheasant this week.

Kya and I are spending the day in the comfort and warmth of the house.

Kya got a package from her Great Grandma Katy yesterday. In it was this beautiful sweater and matching leg warmers. Grandma was worried the sweater would be too small already, but thankfully, it is plenty big (I even had to roll the sleeves). Thank you Grandma - it is beautiful!


Oh no. I seem to have misplaced my little sweetie. Can you help me find Kya?

(by the way, she had a serious case of the giggles when I took this - can you tell?!)

Hope everyone out there is having a good Sunday! Only one more Sunday until November. We have snow in the forecast ...

Enjoy autumn.

Hanging out with Uncle Bob and Grandpa Darwin

Last weekend, Corey went pheasant hunting with my Uncle Bob and Grandpa Darwin. They got six pheasants, all near Westfield, ND. I've written about Westfield before ... but if you missed it, it's a tiny little gathering of a few homes and a Dutch Reform church, and ... well that's all. My great grandparents are from there and I think it's pretty neat that our family still visits/hunts there.

I think their orange vests are cute.

This weekend we Corey helped Uncle Bob and Grandpa Darwin with the annual chore of "taking in the dock." The dock consists of two parts: the ramp and the landing. The boys pushed the landing up to the shore where it is stored. Bob hooks a motor to the landing and "Davey Crockett-style" floats it on the river, to a boat ramp, where they take it out of the water.

Those crazy, boys, always up to something ...

Widowed

The boots are out – it can only mean one thing.

Hunting season.

Tomorrow Corey will venture down to Linton/Strasburg/Westfield, ND, for pheasant hunting with my grandpa and uncle.

While they are hunting for pheasants, I'll be hunting for baby bargains at the twice-yearly My Friend's Attic sale. I'm still completely overwhelmed by the baby product jungle, but I'm hopeful that I'll know a good deal when I see one.