Grandma brought some luck

B

BrownDogsCan2

Well-known member
My grandad always called my moms mom grandma. Keeping with tradition I started calling my mom grandma.
I try to hunt my birthday week or weekend most years. Before my mom and dad passed I’d try and get out and see something a little different each year.
She and I share the same birthday, tomorrow. Now I try to get out and see her. After thirty some hours driving on a trip to SouthDakota last week I wasn’t feeling it and planned on something a little closer to home. This morning I woke up early with the energy that I thought I had lost on the trip and decided to head west instead.
I wasn’t sure about this headstone picture but I think my parents and aunts and uncles would have liked it. I wish I would have taken one without the dogs and the feathers but my mom sure did like tail feathers.
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The Irish knew how to work and knew stone. They brought it with them to Pennsylvania and later to Kansas. These are some later examples and probably not anything my family worked but I still swell up with pride when I see what others accomplished.
The first couple pictures are a 1920s bridge that runs along the edge of the pasture. Without getting down in the waterways you wouldn’t know it or four or five other bridges heading south out of town existed.

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This last picture was taken looking up out of the area
where the barn used to stand. The stone building on the left is an old wpa schoolhouse. I tried to get my great grandfather’s house in it but I think the well and tanks upper right of center are blocking it.

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On the trip home somebody tried to pass a trailer load of cows and instead of holding off and falling back kept with it and put the trailer in the grass on the left and me in the grass on the right. We all drove away.
Thanks for looking out for all of us grandma.

Hunting report in the comments
 
This morning about nine the dogs and I started working a patch of walk-in hunting. About half way through the first rooster got up. I broke a wing. He fell a terrace over. And then kept running until he got into the next terrace after that one. We looked and looked hard but no luck. We continued to work the original terrace until we
got close to the end when the Boykin got burdy. She should have caught it but didn’t and a second later after realizing it was the cripple I should have shot it but didn’t. We worked the hell out of it again. No luck.
We hoped into the next terrace and worked it both ways hoping to find the lost bird. Another bird got up and this time we got it. We stayed in the field a couple more hours working terraces flushing one more rooster long.
After that we headed over to the farm to see if we could find anything that wasn’t bailed. We hunted a little bit of grass at one end and then drove over to a long draw that one end had grown up in weeds. Walked it awhile until I thought I had pushed anything in it closer to the end. I pulled out to walk a fence line for a second looking for quail. About that time the other side of the draw exploded with close to twenty birds flushing , a third of them roosters. One made the mistake of flying back our way in range. I pushed them alright, out the side. After looking a little while the boykin found it fifteen or twenty rows out in the milo.
We hunted it to the end where we shot another at the road.
Ran by the cemetery where we we left the taifeathers from the three birds with my mom.
Hunted some pastures around feed with no luck.
We stopped at another walk-in on the way home for what I thought was going to be a quick walk. Not fifty yards into the grass a rooster got up at less than ten yards and I missed not one but three times. I blame the gun a franchi I started shooting. I haven’t been hitting very well with it. It can’t be my reflexes or my eyes, I’m still a day shy of fifty four.
We worked it to a corner flushing three hens and then a rooster at the fence line. I broke a wing again. The peake pulled up short. We followed him into a pasture and I thought we’d lost another one. Then I see him jump up above the low wire on the fence on the other side of the pasture to take a look at us. It took awhile to get the peake back on him but eventually she tracked him to the other end of the field. It was quite the ruckus. Ironically he didn’t have a tail feather one left in him.

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Nice report and story Brown dog. The Irish had a huge influence on this nation but never have gotten the credit they deserved! They came here with nothing and were treated like crap! I think that's why they are so ornery today! I know I married one!
 
Great story! Hunting close to where it all started definitely adds to the moment, whether you bag birds, or not. Happy Birthday!
 
Happy Birthday! And congrats on a great hunt. Love those old bridges. If they had been built wide enough for today's needs, I doubt any of them would ever be torn down. As for your family that stayed out in that area, how far south and east have they moved? I saw a marker in a small town yard that said O'Brien. It was close enough that I thought of you, but far enough that I wasn't sure.
 
matto said:
Happy Birthday! And congrats on a great hunt. Love those old bridges. If they had been built wide enough for today's needs, I doubt any of them would ever be torn down. As for your family that stayed out in that area, how far south and east have they moved? I saw a marker in a small town yard that said O'Brien. It was close enough that I thought of you, but far enough that I wasn't sure.
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Thanks Matt!
Most have moved on. There a few ness, dighton , garden and a few around great bend. About half ended up in Tulsa and quite a few ended up hutch , Wichita. Most are buried at that cemetery I couldn’t even fit close in the picture or Tulsa.
There’s some non relation around Kinsley , may have been who you saw.
 
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