Let the shooting begin

Most mornings, I wake to the sound of the southbound Amtrak train whistle or the horses demanding to be fed. Sometimes it is Angus wanting to go out to do his "business". However, every September 1st, I am jolted out of bed by shooting and strange bird noises.

Yes, Dove season has begun. At sunrise. And every dove in the county has been talking to the pheasants and therefore, know that we don't hunt. So they are in our trees, on our roof, under the eaves and in the yard. Hiding.

Hope it works.

The dogs don't like the shooting. Luke and friends care not.

Off to see Baily, our newest niece, and her sister Bridget. More later.