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Sullivan's Travels


Suilleabhain
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Tommy, pies at..what is it Briermere Farm, can never remember the right spelling but I remember the strawberry/rhubarb. And if you are lucky you might get a loaf of bread.

I worked a charterboat at Orient by the Sea Marina for a few years in the spring and fall for blackfish and stripers. Passed those stands every Sat & Sunday.

When I was a kid, and as I said Long Island, Suffolk County at least, were all farms or duck farms, we hunted squirrels in Smithtown. On teh way home after a days shoot, we always bought 100 lbs of LI potatoes and it cost like $2.50.

One time in Narrowsberg I think it was, stopped at a stand for some corn for dinner. Chatting with the farmer and he asked when we were going to eat them. I said in about an hour when I get back to my place. He responded then you don't want this stuff, I picked it yesterday. Now vegetables are like fish, you are satisfied with what you buy in the store until you get it fersh. He says go out back and pick your own fresh. I can eat corn every day and never get tired of it, just like pizza. But, I never had corn as good as this, Butter& Cream variety right off the stalk. You folks upstate are in corn Nirvana, hope you appreciate it.

In the 60's, when they built New 17, after the Exit 96 for Livingston Manor, the highway dept laid in an exit ramp but, left it unfinished just outside of the Manor. This would have been Exit 95 or 96A for Beaverkill and Lew Beach but it never built up enough to warrant an exit. In fact, Beaverkill Campgounds is a ghost of itself. The beach is gone, the ranger station is gone, the general store is gone and the ranger there told us that no one really camps there anymore. We camped there from the 40's thru the 70's. Anyway, I digress. So, every fall on weekends, a guy with a truck load of apples would set up a stand at the unused exit ramp where there was a little pull off and sell apples and cider. This was another of our traditions like hot cross buns from Hoo's bakery at Easter, we'd go up in October and get apples and cider between hunting. By teh time we got there, this guy had been in the hard cider for a few cupfulls. Some days he was plain hammered. Face was lit up like a traffic light but, another good soul with plenty to tell.

New cider mill opened on old 17 around Morrston exit 97 if anyone cares. Get yourself a jug of hard, sit back at night and turn on the old radio, if atmospheric conditions are right the only station you'll pick up is WWRL Wheeling West Virginia and get the broadcast of Grand Ole Opry sponsored by Kroger's, that will signify you've been teleported back to Sullivan County in 1965.

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Kalamazoo Straight To You

The house my father's friend had, farm actually, in East Chatam was actually just outside of East Nassau in Rennsalear. It consisted of the house a barn, chicken coop, duck coop, Canada Geese coop, father, mother, two kids, two pigs, two Airedales, a Beagle and a goat named Suzie. The pigs, chickens and ducks didn't get names because you don't get too friendly with dinner. Sitting on Dusenberry Hill Road, Mrs MIller's cows across the road and you went to the crossroads for milk...unless you milked Suzie. The house itself, the main building only consisted of the kitchen, a bedroom and the stone basement, more like a cold cellar than a basement. That part of the house was from the 1700's and had rifle ports in the stones basement walls for fighting indians. The 'new' addition was a centerhall colonial, big dining room, huge den, huge fireplace and four bedrooms upstairs. There was no heat upstairs, just vents in the floor so the heat rose from the downstairs. At night in winter you'ld get undressed fast and hop under the heavy quilts and when your feet hit the floor in the morning you woke up fast. The upstairs hallway was racked with old Winchesters hung on the wall. Octogon barrels, they may have been other than Winchester for all I knew. The beams in the den were also full of antique rifles and pistols. It was like the gun room at the old Abacrombie & Fitch. Since the husband was a surveyor the den was decorated with Inuit walrus tusk carvings from Alaska, Canada and Greenland. The kitchen stove was a 4-hole wood stove but the wife could cook and bake on it like no tomorrow. Always fresh bread at night for a munch. That's where I had my first moose meat, wild boar, helped slaughter my first pig, and shot the Colt Python in 357 magnum, that was the misses gun. We once put a big coffee can out in snow in the field behind the house, 100 yards away. I was about 10 or 12 at the time. My father says see if you can hit it. I knelt down, used a railing to rest my hand on and pulled the trigger. Damn if that can didn't jump. When we walked down, my windage was perfect but the bullet hit 1/8 of an inch under the can and the snow made it jump.The only thing that place lacked was a front walkway. Why a colonial was built with a huge front door but no walk to it mystified me. In summer I discovered catfish in their pond and being a fish nut wanted them for dinner. So I was sent down the road to Mrs Miller's farm to learn how to skin catfish. She was a widow but remembered her husband doing it. Cut behind the head, nail the head to the barn door and pull the meat down. In no time we had enough skinned catfish for a fry. Again me and the kid rambled around, not like you can do what we did today. We went to a friend's place to camp out in the woods once. Not backyard camping, at 10 years old, three of us hopped in a canoe with some blankets and a cast iron frying pan and rowed down a lake for a mile and just set up on the ground in the woods. No food, no water, we speared frogs and had frogs legs fried over a wood fire and lake water for dinner. Didn't do much sleeping that night with the critter noises around us all night. Picked eggs from the hens for breakfast, duck eggs are good but stronger than chicken I'll tell you. Vegtables were home canned from the previous fall, pork was fresh, bacon was slab cut, eating was good. The airedales were bred so there was a bushel of puppies to play with every couple of years. One summer crows were a nuisance so my brother asked teh misses if he could take a gun and shoot them. She said sure, grab a double from the bedromm. The bedroom was like the den only with doubles. So he picks a good one and a fist full of 12 ga shells and off we go. We get to the corn and he drops two shells in and they rattle in the breach. We look at each other perplexed, DOH! he had picked up a 10 gauge. What an elephant gun that was.

They got divorced when I was a teen, the husband passed away some time later and the guns disappeared into the ether.

A few years later one of my uncles bought a house in Cobleskill. They had an old hand pump well for kitchen water and another 4-hole stove.

The name on the stove said

Kalamazoo Stove Company "Kalamazoo Straight To You"

I found the house on Dusenberry Hill Road on aerial photos. The barn, pond, chicken coops, duck coops are all gone. Mrs Miller's farm has houses built on it but, it still doesn't have a walkway to the front door.

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Went to see "Million Dollar Quartet" off-Broadway last night. 1st row seats, s-in-law got them for only $45 a piece, good show. Good show if you enjoy country and the old R&R. I was raised on Hank Williams, T Texas Tyler, Tex Ritter, Johnny Cash and Marty Robbins to name a few, so it was right up my alley. When all my friends were starting with late 60's rock, I was still listening to El Paso and Marty Robbins Gunfighter Ballads album.

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Some time around 1987 I came down with some disease, condition, calamity that damn near killed me. Was supposed to be chronic for the trest of my life and the only treatment was high dosages of Prednisione over a long period of time, which will kill you or, go in teh hospital and have an I.V. with liquid gold pumped through me which would make all my skin peel like a burn patient and, no doubt kill me.

Anyway, it all went away and it turned out it was just stress related. I just bought a new house at the same time I was working a high stress job 60 hrs a week.

Anyhoo, the story goes, my brother went to a half decent spot on our property along a stream in a fairly deep ravine that no one really hunted. He shoots a 5-ptr.

Next season, I finally get to hunt after this illness but I'm still on the Prednisone at this time and I weigh 225-lbs with a size 18 neck. I'm usually about 180, Prednisone will do that to you. So my brother says why don't you hunt where I shot that deer, its a short easy walk. Prednisone will affect your heart too. So I say cool, they give me a whistle to call if I shoot. John goes left out of the house, me and the old man go right on the 4X4. We park, walk in, I drop him off and continue about 100 yards.

Now you have to picture this spot, looking uphill there's the stream and hemlocks on the right and hemlocks on the left that come down and meet in a point. With hardwoods in between Its like sitting at the tip of a triangle about 200 yards long.

There's no good place to sit, so i pick a rise in the dirt that's about 3 feet above everything else and sit and dig my heels in facing uphill. I figure anything comes is either going to run the stream or sneak down the edge of the other hemlocks and funnel right to me.

Its Wednesday, we're going home tomorrow, haven't seen crap. I have a doe permit.

About an hour in, I figured it right. I have a BIG doe and a average spike run downhill and they are right in my lap as I get the gun up. I want this doe bad but she's only 25 feet away and every tree she steps behind blocks any decent shot. All I get is ass and nose. The spike gets nervous and hops 20 feet to my left. I swing on him and the doe steps out. I swing back to her and she goes behind a tree. Aft6er what seemed like forever I said screw it, swung back on the spike and bang. Down he goes, doe takes off.

I blow that whistle until my cheeks give out, nothing. Dress out the deer, sit back down cause I still have my buck tag.

While later I see orange coming thru the trees it's another member, Tommy. He knew I shot was going back to the house, nice deer, usual blah blah. 20 minutes later I hear the 4X4, John pulls up. I said I blew that freakin whistle, where's Dad. John says he never heard the shot, hump was sleeping as usual.

Anyway, fast forward to next season, we're on the porch in the dark getting our gear on. Say to John where you going, he's going left. Say to the old man where are you going he says your spot.

Why you claim jumping, spot stealing, mugger!!! Took my spot. We built him a blind, he hunted there 'till he couldn't hunt no more shot plenty of deer.

Then he starts missing. First year he had the scope on 9X and a deer at 50 feet. Couldn't see naything but brown.

Next time he misses two at like 50 or 60 feet. We get him on the range, put out a deer target and said shoot. Bullet hits in front of the front leg where the brown meets the white on the target. No man's land. Again, same result. How the hell did the scope get knocked off sight. John takes a heart shot on the target, heart shot. Perplexed he turns to the old man and says Where are you aiming? Answer right where the bullet hit, I don't want to waste meat. After a lot of WTF and G7dammits. We get him to waste a little meat.

Anyway if you are in Livingston Manor and you hear someone talking about Louie's Sweet Spot, its not a strip joint, its where my old man thought to place a bullet and save some meat.

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Oh am I gonna have another chapter for this!!!! Just booked 10 days in Ireland. Right off the bat we called my wife's aging aunt in Scotland and said Lily we're coming home for a visit. Her joyous reply at seeing her niece for the first time in 40 years was " Oh Patricia I'm not up to having company and there isn't a hotel between here and Glascow" So much for thinking we would fly to Scotland for two days and stay with the family.

This should be good....Oh and did I tell you there is a family feud over the old house in Carlow?

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  • 2 weeks later...

Things take strange turns at times. Thye bride is Irish born, Brooklyn raised and her idea of outdoors is an open-air shopping mall. Last Saturday I think it was, I taped a bunch of Top Shot shows. So, I'm sitting there watching this and the bride comes in and sits down. Now, when I'm watching hunt shows she usually breezes thru but doesn't pay attention. Top Shot caught her eye. After watching 3 shows in a row, I get up and she says "don't stop now I want to see how this ends" So we play thru to the finale where Big Mike screws up loading the Bennelli and the young guy cleans his clock. Next thing she does is go to the TV listing to start DVR'ing Top Shot. I said, you know, we can drive up to the club and do this anytime you want. I can see she'll have my Ruger and a brick of 22's and I'll have a book to read and sore fingers from clip loading.

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  • 3 weeks later...

Going up to the club in 3a this weekend. Some targets Sat morn, putting up a treestand in teh afternoon, litttle yote calling in the late afternoon. More of the same Sunday.

Setting this up only 5' high in an underhunted spot down low thick in the low hemlocks along an old overgrown logging road. Was a stand there 30 years ago and no one ever goes there. My old fixed wood stand was uphill about 100 yards so i know deer move out of this cover and my fathers shack was near it & he took plenty of deer from that.

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Well back from the greta north woods, north of here anyway. Nothing exciting, target shoot, put up a ladder stand. Tons of old coyote tracks, some nice deer and turkles. Tried calling, no reponse. 14 degrees and 3 inches of snow Saturday morning, a lot nicer today. Fur, Fin and Feather has a 1963 Winchester 94 for sale good condition, not high on the price at all if anyone is looking. He also had a 99 Savage take down, oldddddd in 22 but it had a hold on it from someone interested.

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Tale from the club, muzzleloader.

And this is true, deer suicide by hunter.

Guys went up and posted in about a 200 yard area. One had his 7 y/o grandson, another had an ATV, the third is one his own.

The third guy sees a doe but hadn't charged the rifle correctly and the cap went off. Deer stayed put. Guy with the ATV calls no response, waits a while and gets on the ATv and goes to the shot. He gets there and the deer is still there. Guy with his grandson walks up and the guy on the ATV points out the deer. 1st guy is still trying to reload. Gramps puts the gun up but all he has is a hind quarter shot, then the deer looks back and he takes it with a neck shot.

How you figure that, I think about doing anything and deer run, these guys have a parade and the deer stands there.

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Plants have been outside for just a few hours short of a week and they are budding. Always had luck with Arbor Foundation plants. I put two crabapples upstate, must be 20 years ago, and even with the bears trying to climb them and splitting the trunk they are still going strong.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Just got back from the club in 3A. Picked stones from the food plot. Planted blueberries, forsythia, hawthorn, apple and oak. Turnips and rye/clover will be coming soon. Stacked a cord and a half of wood, then the usual household odds and ends.

Checked my new trail cam after the first month by my stand.

Lousey drive down in the rain, lots of stupidity on the road. Woman came down an entrance ramp at 30 right infront of a semi. If he hadn't put her hard over she'ld have been dead.

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  • 4 weeks later...

As I travel around the internet I've found one thing that repeatedly raises my hackles and just turns me off...Dude. I hate someone calling me Dude, it just brings on an instinctive visceral reaction from latent Neanderthal genes and DNA untapped for ages, just feels like someone pissed on my shoe.

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I found some instructions on how to start cuttings and rootings on-line and tried it out. Mix half sand, half peat add some vermiculite.. water with a touch of rooting hormone and stick the cuttings. So far success with wild grape, lilac and hawthorn. Going to add some yew and dogwood next and see how it goes. If this works, I won't need to buy plants, just start cuttings from local stock.

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  • 1 month later...

Just returned from 10 days in Carlow, Ireland with my wife's family. Got blown out with sea fishing but, hit the Jameson's, Guinness and Hennessey pretty well. Bunnys were all over and my cousins took a few with a .22, some duck and deer hunting goes on there in winter and they are using the same 7 & 8mm stuff we are shooting. I didn't know you could own anything but a double-barrel in ireland.

89 Euros a night to stay in a 4 star hotel with full Irish breakfast every morning. Its cheap over there now so if you ever planned to go, do it. 10 day rental of an Audi A4 diesel was 650 euro, and the roads and siignage is far better than anything we have here. You would have to be blind to get lost in Ireland. The River Barrow at Milford had 30-lb salmon and 12-lb rainbows and browns, naturally it was the wrong time of year and the river was too high and fast from the rain.

The castle is Kilkenny, the urinals are in the men's room at the Arboretum.

The Dolmen is a portal tomb, mass grave, from pre-history. The stone is the largest cap stone in Europe.

The tower pics are a Viking tower, Ragnal's in Waterford. Waterford was founded by Vikings. The city was once walled with eight of these towers.

The town we stayed in, Carlow, was the last city on the edge of the Pale, the dividing line between Viking and Irish rule. So Carlow Castle was often attacked but never breached. Until as psychiatrist went to make it into a nut house and decided the 9-foot thick walls were too big. So he set a dynamite charge and blew 3/4 of the castle away. Irish are known for whiskey and song, not ingenuity

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  • 2 months later...

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