Gram Went Goose Hunting For The Very First Time

 

Jonathan and his faithful retriever. Blaze loved the hunt and retrieved her last duck in the fall of 2012

There comes a time in Northern Maine when a segment of the male population becomes restless. It begins around the time the trees don their vibrant fall colors and the air becomes more crisp. Listen and you can hear the honking of the geese and see them on their daily flights to and from lakes and ponds to the corn fields that stud the landscape. Quietly some days -- and not so quietly other days -- the beech, the maple, the ash, and other deciduous trees rain millions of leaves onto the ground.

 

That is the season when men hurriedly dress and move around earlier in the morning than at any other time of the year. You have probably heard of the Hunter-Gatherers. It seems that some of our family must have

Stephen and David Buza, all excited the night before the hunt

some of that blood running through their veins. It is fun to watch them. They make sure they have their waterfowl stamps, clean their shot guns, and load the decoys onto the truck. In the dark, over a hasty breakfast they discuss which corn field they should try that day. The mallards, teals, black ducks and wood ducks along with their cousins will fly in before sunrise, so the hunter has to be in place early. Then the Canada geese will descend, hopefully great flocks of them. This is a sight and sound like no other for our hunters!

Sometimes the hunting party is as small as a guy and his dog. But other times it consists of Gramp, Dads, and Uncle, Grandsons, and even Brian's little Grandaughter. Last fall the Grandmother (that's ME) had her first experience in the cornfield! You never know who will go out there on a cold or rainy morning. It took quite a few minutes to space the decoys and gather some corn stalks to throw over the burlap covering the hunters' motionless-as-possible bodies. They helped me get into position in a "chair" (yeah, right) and covered me with a huge decoy cover that should have been obvious to the always-suspicious geese. I tried not to take too many breaths as the sunlight began to streak across the field. Through the slits in my huge decoy, I saw some geese flying low over us. My son's

Jonathan retrieved a goose, and will that ever taste good!

voice yelled, "Kill 'em!" The shotgun fire was close at hand and spent shells rained onto my decoy, rattling as the rolled to the earth beneath me. WOW! That was amazing. We talked about the experience for a few minutes and Jonathan said, "I better go get that dead one over there." Neither Gramp nor I had seen the goose fall and we were both pretty amazed. Wayne and Jonathan went out several mornings last fall. Often they got their limit of 2 birds apiece. But that day we went back to Grammie Ruth's early because, as I am reminded from time to time, "somebody had to go to the bathroom." I contend I wasn't the only one, but it does me no good.



Jonathan and Robert Buza anticipating tomorrow's hunt!

Ever eaten goose? Jonathan and Michele cut the goose into chunks, marinate the meat in orange juice and Italian dressing, wrap each piece in a half slice of bacon and then they usually cook it in a convection oven. Talk about delicious!
                                                                
I have to tell a tale about Robert. His mom packed some snacks for him to take one morning. Well, you know how Gramp is always teasing the kids! He asked for a bite. Robert got Gramp this time. He told his grandfather he was willing to share with everyone but him!

He's a GOOD grandson. He shared with his Grampie, but we had a lot of fun laughing about the right-back-at-you that Robert did! Isn't family GREAT? We love being related to you. We thank the Lord for His many, many blessings every day -- and high on the list of blessings is YOU.
              


My Honey and Me (Not the day of the hunt, though)