Fowl Happenings in the Holler

Snow is peppering down in the fields behind the Asylum this morning. It was a little nipply on my morning walk, but the six deer who came barrelling out of the woods, crossing my path, made it all worth it. I tried to get a video of them with my cellphone, but I missed.

Maybe next time.

PG had a close encounter on his way to the office last Friday. I'd heard bits and pieces of the story, but I wasn't sure who was involved until I walked in on a conversation between him and Bossman.

Bossman, to PG: "So did you get your truck pieced back together?"

PG: "My mirror is fixed but I'm still waitin' on the estimate for the rest."

Bossman: "Who knew you could do that much damage hitting one little turkey?"

PG: "I beg your pardon.. I did not hit the turkey.. the turkey hit me. And.. that was a huge damn bird!"

I winced as I laid PG's faxes on his desk and asked, "Awww.. poor turkey. Did you kill it?"

PG: "Poor turkey?? HAVE YOU SEEN MY TRUCK??? And yes it's dead. I was coming up the hill to work Friday when I seen it.. out of the corner of my eye... flying out of the woods.. like a bullet... straight towards my head. Luckily it was cool out and I had my window up. The sumbitch clipped my side mirror, bounced across the hood and off the side.. where I clipped it again. Oh my GAWD the feathers.. the blood.. the turkey carnage was everywhere."

I could see that PG was still a little shook up over the whole thing. And while people who know me will tell you that maybe I'm just a tad bit over sensitive when it comes to critters... I still kinda giggled to myself. Not because the poor turkey got killed, but because I can just see the horror on PG's face as he glances up and sees the kamikaze fowl coming straight for him.

Bossman added with a grin: "After he told us the story in the morning meeting, we went out to survey the damage to his truck. All but Tiny. He came out the door wielding a big hunting knife, looking determined as hell, then hopped in his little Toyota, heading down the hill like he was going to a fire. It didn't dawn on us what the hell he was doing until he came back, smiling from ear to ear. He hopped out carrying his lunch cooler, damn proud of himself. He'd gone and cut him out the whole turkey breast to take home for supper."

This tickled the wee out of Bossman, being from "up nawth" he'd always heard us hillfolk didn't waste anything, not even roadkill, but he'd thought it was just a stereotype.

This morning, I may or may not have suggested to Tiny that he get his turkey call whistle thingie and sneak up behind PG with it this afternoon, out in the plant, after everyone else is gone and see if he can get a rise out of him.

Because I may or may not have a wee bit of a mean streak.

Anywho... ya'll have a great day. I'll be working my little fingers to the bone in between taking breaks to watch it snow and peeking in on Twitter and Plurk.

Later Taters!

P.S. If your in the N.Y. area and want to check out Eddie Izzard in a small, intimate venue, click here. I'm pretty sure it's okay to share.. since I've only got like six readers :o) I'd be there in a New York minute if I could.