Winter has faded and spring is here, but in the Salzman house there has been yet another change of seasons--the hunting season. For the last week the focus has not been fish, or deer, or pigeons in the barn, but turkeys.
I have yet to decide what is appealing about turkey hunting. It is my understanding that in order to be a successful turkey hunter, you sit in the woods in complete camo, scrapping two pieces of wood together that produce the most obnoxious sound known to man kind. The hope is that eventually some turkey will think you're a hot piece of ass, come walking towards you, and then *BAM* lights out Mr. Gobble.
Why anyone has the desire to do this is beyond me, but J.R. seems to be very excited about it.
Every morning for the last few days, the alarm has gone off at 5:30. Unlike J.R., when an alarm goes off I'm awake for the day. There is no falling back asleep. Much to my annoyance this has meant waking an hour early everyday. J.R. then gets dressed in all of his camo and heads off to the woods with a big plastic turkey. After a few hours he emerges from the middle of no where and with great excitement tells me how he sat in the woods and scrapped two pieces of wood together every few minutes. He either then returns to the woods, or waits until dusk to go find where the turkeys are roosting.
Now everyday I've heard stories about finding turkey feathers, seeing scratch marks on the ground, and hearing the tom gobble, but no turkey has been killed. My point: J.R. makes a very ugly turkey for no Tom will come near him to get his head blasted off.
The one thing J.R. has been successful at is bringing loads of ticks home with him. We have pulled many, many ticks off his clothes, body, and boots. Last night while I was making dinner I even found one crawling on the kitchen cupboards. I screamed bloody murder and frantically threw the tick onto the hot stove where is died a horrible, painful death much to my enjoyment.
My conclusion: Turkey hunting is the devil.
Now for a total change in subject...
Today was my registration date for fall classes. I once again was lucky enough to register with most of the freshman. My late date ensured that every class I needed was already full, and half the classes I wanted were missing in action. I did manage to come up with 15 credit hours, but it ain't a pretty picture. Math 121, Principles of Marketing, Discussion, Technical Writing, and Critical Writing. I have to admit, the only class I'm somewhat thrilled about taking is discussion, which counts towards my speech communications minor. I'm slowly realizing the business classes are horrible boring and technical, and lets be honest... how exciting can technical and critical writing truly be? It shall be an interesting fall semester.
...and in other news...
Many of you have heard about the issues concerning J.R. and his prosthetic arm. For the moment, all I will say is that J.R. will soon be receiving a brand spanking new arm and his old arm will be rejuvenated with new life as well. More to come on this story at a later date.