22-12-2007, 05:43 PM
Santa landed in my food plot
By John Simeone/Special to the Leader
Published: Friday, December 21,
'Twas the day before Christmas, and on my old hunting lease, not a creature was stirring, especially the deer.
My food plot stood tall, all pretty and green, biologic, Jurassic and iron clay peas.
The moon was all full, the wind from the east, as everyone knows the deer moves the least.
With scientific knowledge, I looked in my journal, just as I suspected, the deer were nocturnal.
All the equipment was ready, my stand was on high, and with all the expense, it could just make you cry.
But with eternal patience I sat, with my belt firmly fastened, and for but a moment, I stole a brief nap.
Then I heard up in the air, what I thought to be ducks, but to my shock and awe, it was eight flying bucks.
He was awesome to see, this little old man, with his red suit and beard, stretched out in the wind.
Loud an clear he was, as he gave his commands, I couldn't believe it, they were going to land.
In they came in a rush, right in the middle of my food plot, he let out the elves, who were in question and doubt, why Santa had landed on an unscheduled stop.
I watched in amazement, as they unhooked the sleigh, right in my food pot, he let them all out to graze.
The elves weren't too pleased, left on detail, cause Santa, that rascal, had a girlfriend ... just down the trail.
They browsed in my food plot, munching my peas, my whole body shook all the way down to my knees.
Trophy-sized racks, they would all make the books, 300-pounders with back straps and steaks for the cook.
It was hard to resist, my eyes all a fix, as I thumbed at the safety on the 30-06.
But as everyone knows, I'm a thinking man, I quickly pondered awhile and thought out a plan.
I got on the CB and called to the camp, back me up boys, they're all in the plot.
Excited they scrambled, spilling the beer, danged if Uncle John done found the deer.
They came over the hill and hid in a ditch, and waited to hear of my little sneaky trick.
I told them the plan, and put them on line, "Remember the big one, with the red nose is mine!"
Dressed in Mossy Oak and Real Tree, we hid in the holly, and at my signal, we gave the a volley.
From the food plot there arose such a clatter, Santa ran out on the porch to see what was the matter.
Here Cupid, her Vixen, her Donner and Blitzen, where's Dasher and Dancer and the rest of them critters.
Santa's Cajun girlfriend said with a shrug and a giggle, it didn't take much to figure the reason, "That's a food plot you idiot and this is deer season."
Well the boys and me never had such a day, the elves didn't like the deer much anyway.
So for a nominal fee, we hired them all, they went right to work with choppers and grinders and in no time we had steaks, chops and sausage.
We took some of the backstrap over to Maylean, who fattened up Santa pretty as you please.
We loaded him a four-wheeler, but don't ask me why, when he climbed in it, we found out Hondas could fly!
It was good to know, Santa didn't put up much of a fuss, wasn't really much he could do anyway, the sheriff was with us.
But time was a wastin', Santa had to go, just one little kiss with Maylean underneath the mistletoe.
He fired up the Honda, and threw it in gear, aimed for the North Star with a laugh and good cheer.
And I heard him say, as he flew out of sight, "Louisiana Christmas is cool, let's do it next year."
Pass it on.
http://www.leesvilledailyleader.com/articles/2007/12/21/sports/sports4.txt
By John Simeone/Special to the Leader
Published: Friday, December 21,
'Twas the day before Christmas, and on my old hunting lease, not a creature was stirring, especially the deer.
My food plot stood tall, all pretty and green, biologic, Jurassic and iron clay peas.
The moon was all full, the wind from the east, as everyone knows the deer moves the least.
With scientific knowledge, I looked in my journal, just as I suspected, the deer were nocturnal.
All the equipment was ready, my stand was on high, and with all the expense, it could just make you cry.
But with eternal patience I sat, with my belt firmly fastened, and for but a moment, I stole a brief nap.
Then I heard up in the air, what I thought to be ducks, but to my shock and awe, it was eight flying bucks.
He was awesome to see, this little old man, with his red suit and beard, stretched out in the wind.
Loud an clear he was, as he gave his commands, I couldn't believe it, they were going to land.
In they came in a rush, right in the middle of my food plot, he let out the elves, who were in question and doubt, why Santa had landed on an unscheduled stop.
I watched in amazement, as they unhooked the sleigh, right in my food pot, he let them all out to graze.
The elves weren't too pleased, left on detail, cause Santa, that rascal, had a girlfriend ... just down the trail.
They browsed in my food plot, munching my peas, my whole body shook all the way down to my knees.
Trophy-sized racks, they would all make the books, 300-pounders with back straps and steaks for the cook.
It was hard to resist, my eyes all a fix, as I thumbed at the safety on the 30-06.
But as everyone knows, I'm a thinking man, I quickly pondered awhile and thought out a plan.
I got on the CB and called to the camp, back me up boys, they're all in the plot.
Excited they scrambled, spilling the beer, danged if Uncle John done found the deer.
They came over the hill and hid in a ditch, and waited to hear of my little sneaky trick.
I told them the plan, and put them on line, "Remember the big one, with the red nose is mine!"
Dressed in Mossy Oak and Real Tree, we hid in the holly, and at my signal, we gave the a volley.
From the food plot there arose such a clatter, Santa ran out on the porch to see what was the matter.
Here Cupid, her Vixen, her Donner and Blitzen, where's Dasher and Dancer and the rest of them critters.
Santa's Cajun girlfriend said with a shrug and a giggle, it didn't take much to figure the reason, "That's a food plot you idiot and this is deer season."
Well the boys and me never had such a day, the elves didn't like the deer much anyway.
So for a nominal fee, we hired them all, they went right to work with choppers and grinders and in no time we had steaks, chops and sausage.
We took some of the backstrap over to Maylean, who fattened up Santa pretty as you please.
We loaded him a four-wheeler, but don't ask me why, when he climbed in it, we found out Hondas could fly!
It was good to know, Santa didn't put up much of a fuss, wasn't really much he could do anyway, the sheriff was with us.
But time was a wastin', Santa had to go, just one little kiss with Maylean underneath the mistletoe.
He fired up the Honda, and threw it in gear, aimed for the North Star with a laugh and good cheer.
And I heard him say, as he flew out of sight, "Louisiana Christmas is cool, let's do it next year."
Pass it on.
http://www.leesvilledailyleader.com/articles/2007/12/21/sports/sports4.txt