I love it when someone sends me a new story to read, especially if they give me permission to post it on the BLESSED Journal. This week, Jeff Corley's story, "A Hunting Tale," brought back a lot of memories for me—memories of my dad.

I never went hunting with my dad, but I I ate a lot of his squirrel dumplings. I kind of gag when I think about that now; it reminds me too much of roadkill here in Arkansas.

Dad always began getting ready for hunting season around his birthday in October. He'd get his gun out of the closet and clean it. I remember the big, red bullets for his gun, and his old, smelly hunting jacket.

I'll never forget the squirrel-cleaning time after the hunt. Dad would throw our old hound dog, Boo, some of the scraps, while he cleaned the squirrels. One day, my little sister's kitten met her Maker when she fell off the fence in front of Boo during squirrel-cleaning time. Yuck!

Thanks, Jeff, for the great story and the memories. I hope others may think of some of their hunting tales to share on the BLESSED Journal.

Blessings,

Karen

Did Jeff's story prompt a hunting memory for you?

Be sure to leave your comments on the BLESSED Journal to encourage our writers. And send your stories to kj@karenjordan.

Photo/BarnesFamily  (Dad and Uncle Bill)