8 with 3

A cold grey day on the Albemarle and the wind kicking a little and Tommy wants to go hunting. Good gracious I have a ton of stuff to do but I promised him that we would go. 8 years old and has no concept what an imposition that it is on your 19 year old sister to go after ducks, but, like I said, he made me promise tuesday.

He's regular bouncing with excitement and already dressed at two when I get home. However excited he is, he hasn't had the good sense to load the decoys in the wagon or any burlap for the blind. He knows that we are just gonna sling the burlap between two hay bales, and put the field decoys out, hoping to get some that are afternoon feeding.

I get the warm clothes on and get the dog fed a bit and off we go down to the barn to load up. There is something special about eastern North Carolina and I figure it is the flatness right next to the water. Those folks up in Raleigh have no idea what a sound is or what it's good for, but I feel a right close bond with it. The summers tying off eel pots and crabbing....the late fall sails down to hertford and back, and these cold wet 40degree days of December, when you feel like you will never be dry again. John hates this weather and calls it uncivilized, but I relish it.

Three bags of heavy wood field decoys loaded up and we are chuggin back across to Broad Neck. Tommy swears the sky was "black with ducks" yesterday and I am willing to bet he saw three total. Wet burlap is the smell of country and it is a flat pain to get it draped across the bales. That is a perfect job for a 8 year old boy. decoys spread and I guess as good a time as any for a cigarette. Tommy swears he won't tell momma, but I still don't let him have a drag...he might get excited and let fly with too much information at the wrong time.

Gracious I wish he would stop talking. I don't think there is a risk of scaring away any ducks, but the dog is trying to relax a bit and I'd like to enjoy the day some too. When he takes out the call that Winky carved for him, I get sorta mad. It sounds more like a seagull than a duck, and he would be better using it to impress the tourists down at Nags Head.

I get out Billy's call that he left at the house and blow some chatter just to show Tommy I can, throwing it around a little for authenticity. Some straight out blasts and chatter again and he realizes that he ought not to mess around with that kazoo of his.

I wish I could doze a bit before we go home. Momma is gonna have a bunch of chores and I probably will have to go to town for some milk later. Suits me fine because I want to go see my cousins in town for a little while. They have gotten a letter from thier brother in Texas and I am curious to hear about life in the oil fields. Jimbo is my favorite cousin and I wish he was around. His stories sure do make you feel better and I could listen to him for hours. I know his letter will be fun and Frances will mimick him when she reads it.

People say that Chesepeakes are the best dogs, but this is one that I figure is as dumb as a rock. Neptune has never been good for much but keeping Tommy company but I will admit that he does a good job of that. Momma caught Nep in the bed with Tommy the other night and I swear she yelled so loud you could hear her across the sound in Columbia.

Now the stupid dog is up and whining like he smells a fox or raccoon. If he starts barking I am loading up and going home and I tell Tommy so. Not three seconds later I hear a sound like a train coming and look out to see the whole duck population of Chowan County descending on us. I look over at Tommy and he is just still staring at them. I grab up Daddy's gun and best I can pop off three shots and watch the whole flock turn and head over to Sandy Point.

The dogs is going nuts running after flopping ducks and Tommy is chasing them across the field too. As best as I can tell there are 8 of them in various states of being almost dead to mostly alive. I ring out 4 and Tommy and the dog are after a couple. He comes running back across to the tractor like a puppy and flings his in the wagon and tears out after the last two. It's flat out dark now and we are not going to be able to see any if the get to the woods so he is frantic.

They get the last two and we chunk everything in and head out to the house. I cannot believe that we did it. Noone is going to believe that we shot 8 ducks with three shots but I know we did. Tommy has the imagination of a normal 8 year old and I tell him not to embellish this as it's gonna be right hard to convince people that we did......