Deb,  As the oldest child my Dad also thought I should have been a boy.
That's why I am much better at cussin', drinking liquor, tellin' jokes and,
yes, even pissin' on trees than I am at sittin' in the parlor with the
"ladies" sewin' a fine seam, etc--whatever else they do.

I love the call of the hounds.  Years ago there was a man who lived near
the grade school I attended who had bay hounds and they would get goin' if
anybody came near his house.  We used to go down there just to hear them.
Ruth





At 9:36 AM -0500 12/31/03, Deb Bledsoe wrote:

>your uncle wasn't making excuses; as you are not an appendage person, you
>weren't invited -
>coon hunting is mostly just a way for the mens to get out of the house and
>away from the rules of the womenfolk...
>they sit around a big camp fire, cuss, pass a jar of white liquor, piss on
>the trees, tell whatever kind of jokes they want, maybe play a little banjo
>and guitar
>
>meanwhile, the dogs are baying off over the hill in the dark
>it is a sweet sound, when they aren't too close, and it usually takes til
>the wee hours before they tree the coon
>
>I was fortunate enough to have a dad who thought I should have been a boy,
>and so was carried along to a coonhunt when I was about 11, and old enough
>to know to sit quiet off in the shadows and just watch and listen...
>my early education was quite thorough
>
>deb
--
Ruth Barton
[log in to unmask]
Dummerston, VT

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