May 19, 2005
I dropped off my camera to have it repaired today, and then I went to visit a nefarious acquaintence of mine who lives down in the woods on the banks of the Savannah River not far from my house. I went there to buy a pistol, but I didn't do that.
After that, I drove down to MacIntosh County to pay a visit to catfish, who was out in the yard on his country estate with a fishing rod and a .22 rifle by his lawn chair on the edge of his creek. He was shooting squirrels and catching bream, and doing a pretty good job of both. Thanks to him, I'm having fish for supper tonight.
I think the squirrels will be alligator bait, because his lazy cats are too sorry to go eat them anymore. They've had their fill. Cat told me that he's shooting eight or ten of those tree rats every day now.
I like the way his palace is looking now. He's been on this project for more than a year, and he's about to get it all finished--- except for the stuff that NEVER gets finished when you own a place like that. The house is pretty well complete, except for a few minor things, but that five acres he has gives a man plenty to do in his spare time.
I told him that he needed a Yard Boy. He said, "I've GOT one, but she never stays at home anymore."
He's been clearing the brush around the creek and shooting a lot of alligators. Yesterday, he killed his first snake, a cottonmouth about 3' long and as big around as my leg. He'll see more snakes as the weather gets warmer. I made that cogent observation and Cat replied, "Usually I don't come down here to work without wearing snake-boots and stovepipes. I'm like YOU, Bow-legs. Snakes scare the shit out of me."
He also carries a pistol loaded with snake-shot strapped to his hip when he goes "gardening." I
Cat damn near captured me for good when we went inside and I sat in his massage-chair. I gotta get me one of those. It's got a remote control that makes that chair feel like a team of Swedish massage experts working on your back, neck and legs. I could SLEEP in that thing.
Now I've got some fish to clean, as soon as I bandage this nasty blister I have on my right thumb. Those .410 derringers have a bitch of a safety on them and it took me a while to figure out how to operate it--- before I decided not to buy one.
If I ever change my mind, I think I might really like
All content © Rob Smith