With all the festivities surrounding the official launch of summer it’s often easy to overlook the reason for the holiday. Memorial Day (originally observed as Decoration Day) was intended to be a day to honor the fallen Union soldiers of the Civil War. Logically this day has grown to encompass the remembrance of not only all U.S. service men and women but any loved ones that are no longer with us. Let us never forget them.
Today we kick-off the eighth annual Memorial Day camping weekend with my in-laws. In that time we’ve experienced all kinds of weather which, if you’re tenting, can make all the difference. Most years the nightly lows would hover just above freezing. Other years we’ve nearly been carried away by the rain and high winds. And two years ago we endured the entire weekend sitting in inches of rain without a campfire due to the ridiculous county-wide fire ban. This year, despite the forecast, looks to be warmer and, for the most part, drier than years past. Regardless of what the weather forecast holds, the tradition has built some amazing memories over the years and continues to be one of the highlights of summer.
All this wet weather should really bring out the snipes for camping this Memorial Day weekend. Snipe hunting opens after dusk on the Friday before Memorial Day every year and it’s a tradition that’s been kept alive for generations. Surprisingly enough, in all the years we’ve been out hunting we’ve yet to bag one of the buggers. I realize it’s the one species of wildlife that is not under the management of any state game department (that’s why a license isn’t required to hunt them) but I think the world would benefit from a class or two on how to track and identify a snipe. Instead we’ve come to rely on intuition and family tradition to pass this on to future generations.
As far as I know the snipe species varies like all other animals but legend holds that the rainbow-colored snipe is the most vicious and, contrary to what you might believe, is very hard to spot in the wild. It’s for this reason that I would never suggest going snipe hunting alone. Always bring an adult and two very firm and dry sticks for clicking together (and defense if necessary). I’m not sure if the clicking helps attract or repel the snipe, but past hunts would suggest maybe both.
In the event that you should see a snipe, be prepared to capture it. Stunning it with one of your calling sticks is recommended before handling any snipe as they are usually antlered and have very sharp claws. A simple pillow case will do the trick (be sure to take the pillow out of it first). Lastly, be sure to lace up your running shoes, because snipes are also very fast. Whether you are pursuing or being pursued you don’t want to be caught in flip-flops.
There are no books written on the topic of snipe hunting, so hopefully you’ve found these few tips to be somewhat helpful. I think the most important things to remember about snipe hunting are to be safe and have fun. Happy hunting!
With the Easter holiday over, our household has been “suffering” the elimination of the sugary leftovers. For the kids this doesn’t pose much of a challenge, but I’ve never been much of an Easter candy connoisseur. My faves tend to be pretty run-of-the-mill standards that you can get anytime during the year. So, go ahead and keep the jelly beans, chocolate bunnies and marshmallow eggs and give me the kisses and peanut M&Ms. I won’t be much help if you’re looking to unload Cadbury Creme Eggs or Peeps (my wife could survive on these alone) but if you have any milk chocolate in the form of Peanut Butter Cups or Snickers bars, I can possibly help you out.
Wishing everyone a happy and blessed Easter!
What would Easter be without a good old-fashioned egg hunt? It’s odd, but I can remember more egg hunts that took place indoors. The combination of Easter fluctuating between the months of March and April and the often splendid Midwestern weather it’s really no mystery.
We plan to do an egg hunt this year at my sister’s in Minnesota, so hopefully the weather will cooperate. With four grandkids, there will be plenty of eggs to find. I have to admit – any snow would make them easier to hide.
Some Christians also refer to this day as Black Friday or Holy Friday. Not to diminish the importance or significance of Christmas, but all of Christianity hinges on Easter. It is through the death and resurrection of Jesus that all of mankind is saved. His birth and horrific death were prophesied by the most ancient of Jewish scripture and it is written that at the moment Christ died the earth grew dark. When did all of this occur? Would you believe April 3, 33AD? Is that exact date recorded in scripture or history anywhere? No.
It’s interesting how varied the Easter Bunny tradition is in families. As a kid growing up I found it much easier to believe in Santa Claus. After all, Santa wasn’t a buck-toothed, long-eared lagomorph that hopped into your house to deliver Easter baskets while you were sleeping. I mean, come on! An over-sized rabbit delivering candy? Really? That simply didn’t seem believable. Now, flying reindeer – that was different.
I also never quite understood why the Easter Bunny pretended to be Santa Claus with other families. As far as I knew, there was no behavior prerequisite that the Easter Bunny followed when determining the size of his offerings, so it didn’t make sense why some kids got bikes and stereos. The Easter Bunny I knew only delivered candy in plastic eggs, and if there were any gifts they were sure to fit in that modestly-sized basket covered with plenty of that extra special, plastic grass. Strange. Maybe we were supposed to write letters to the Easter Bunny.
May ye all feel better than I do, this St. Patty’s Day. My apologies, but with this head cold in full swing any profound thought that I may have had has been replaced with mucous. I shall toast my Day-Quil to your good health. Sláinte!
Nothing in the glutenous world beats freshly-baked bread. If you’re yearning for that homemade taste, store-bought frozen bread dough will do in a pinch, but I have to say, nothing beats mom’s homemade bread recipe.
If you’ve never witnessed the making of homemade bread, it’s quite a process. I remember the long hours mom spent mixing all the ingredients in her large black kettle; how she covered it with a flour sack towel (or heating pad) waiting for it to rise; and the violent punching and kneading that was necessary to work it over before forming it into little loaves and buns. All that work she put into it was well worth it and our reward for being ‘helpful’ was a sampling from the first batch.
Us kids would wait patiently near the oven for the first loaves to come out. As soon as that oven door opened, the intoxicating smells of yeast filled the entire house. After sternly reminding us to stay safely away from the hot pans, she would take a paper towel, swab it with butter and gently rub the golden brown tops of the piping hot bread. Waiting for the bread to cool was the hardest part so we often risked burning our lips to taste what had been teasing our taste buds for so long.
It’s not often that we get to enjoy mom’s homemade bread but we can usually count on Thanksgiving to get a taste of those incredible buns. They’ve become so popular that she usually doubles her normal batch (half of which always seem to go home with someone very lucky). Maybe, just maybe, we can hope to have homemade buns for Easter this year.