Back in North Texas, it's dove season. The season began September 1, so this is opening weekend. Compared to the places my brother, father and I hunted in South Texas, North Texas is slim pickings. Opening weekend is about the only time you'll see a dove to shoot at. After that, it seems they all move to bunkers, caves or the city. What's really frustrating is spending a long weekend of looking for a few dove to shoot at in the country, and returning to work on Monday to see plentiful dove in the city. They seem to know the laws and laugh at hunters from their safe havens.
I would not have even remembered dove season in Texas but yesterday a couple of Ground Dove landed in a fruit tree near the house. The pellet gun was handy near the door, so I took a couple shots, and John took a bunch of shots. While shooting we discovered two things about our pellet gun, a Crossman. First, that the path of the pellet does not vary. Second that it always shoots about 2 degrees to the right. We kept hitting the same leaf beside one of the dove. The dove seemed unconcerned about what probably seemed like kamikaze bees whacking the nearby foliage. Finally, John aimed a little to the left of the bird and knocked it down. He had it in the frying pan and he consumed it within ten minutes.
For trivia sake, a Ground Dove is smaller than a Mourning Dove. It's habitat is from South Texas to South America. They are by no means endangered, far from it. My father used to call them "Mexican Dove". We also have White Winged Dove, which are larger than Mourning Dove. A few years ago John and I built a quail trap based on the design my father taught me 30 years ago. There are Bob White Quail around here, but we've not caught any. John has caught a number of White Winged Dove in the trap. The dove seem to congregate when the corn is ripe; it's getting ripe. :-)
Everybody has been house bound for most of the week because of flu, complete with fever. I am the only one that has not been sick. Also, the rains continue. It has pretty well rained an inch+ every day since April. We no longer park the vehicles near the house because it is too muddy. Yesterday we hired a tractor to pull the van out of the mud. I've spent a few hundred dollars putting rock and gravel into our driveway, but the driveway is still mush. It's difficult to walk on without sinking.
Paula also has flu, so I am visiting Gerardo today. She normally goes on the weekends and I during the week. They are trying to figure out why his blood pressure is fluctuating, even with the medication he is taking. The nurses believe it's because he is not at home, since his pressure improves when we are visiting. The doctor, of course, knows better. At first the doctor thought it was because he was not taking his medication, so they moved him to a room with constant monitoring. Then she thought we were giving him bad food, but even after two weeks of food monitored by nurses, the pressure is all over the charts. Finally, yesterday, she factored those reasons out. Hopefully they will figure it out and Gerardo can come home soon.
Arnol and Reynaldo started school this past week. Our kids start school this week. My mother and sister are putting together a package of shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes and toys for the children at the hospital.
Right now I am riding the bus to Tegucigalpa. Our driver of the day is one Gerardo and I have dubbed, Gropin' Grandpa. He's a man in his 50's that can't keep his hands off younger females that occupy seats next to his. Driving at this speed through the mountains on wet roads, I would hope a driver would keep focused on the road. You'd think...