The Great Turkey Hunter

I recently went turkey hunting for my first time. Our friend Clay was home from college and picked me up early in the morning while it was still dark out.

I was excited, but kind of nervous, too.

We headed north to where he thought would be a great spot to sit and call turkeys. When we arrived, he crow-called to see where they were at. We followed the sound of their gobbling reply, he got me set up and the decoys placed.

We could see turkeys roosting in the trees beyond where we sat. He started calling them. Sure enough, they made their ways down to investigate. There was a tom, a handful of jakes and a few hens in the group. I got really excited as the tom started strutting closer to get a better look. He didn’t venture too far though; he was afraid he’d miss an opportunity with those hens since the jakes were with them.

We sat a while longer, and they walked the opposite direction. We set out on foot to see if we could find them. We made our way through the draw, crossing water and climbing over fallen trees. I quickly realized I was likely more of a liability on this trip than Clay had potentially bargained for. I fell several times. In fact, I fell over one tree twice. I learned later that he pointed out that tree and my experience with it to some hunter friends the next day.

We were able to find those turkeys again, but they were still moving away from us, so we went back to the pickup. Clay felt badly that they didn’t come closer. I didn’t mind. I was enjoying myself.

We had to stop a while to put some of our calves back in a pasture. While there, we could hear gobbling close-by. When we were done, we drove a very short distance before seeing them on a neighbor’s land. Just before we stopped to look, I thought I’d spotted a turkey on the other side of the road. We backed up. I was right. We parked and snuck part way up the hill. There was a jake and a hen. Clay called some and the jake was definitely interested. The only way to get closer was to crawl on our stomachs up the hill when he wasn’t looking. Clay took his gear off and carried my gun for me since he’d already witnessed my lack of finesse at our first stopping point.

I prayed our hired men wouldn’t drive by while my backside was sticking up in the air.

We made it up the hill, camped out on our stomachs in the grass. Clay realized he left his call at the bottom of the hill.

“I have to use my mouth. This might sound stupid.”

His call was far from stupid. It was great. And the turkey bought it. He gobbled at us for a long time and slowly made his way closer.

Clay asked if my nerves were starting to mess with me yet.

They sure weren’t. Thirty seconds passed.

“They are now.”

He asked if I could feel the ground rumbling when the jake responded to us.

“All I can feel is my heart pounding out of my chest.”

As we watched and whispered back and forth, I began to relax again. The turkey kept moving in.

Clay said I could shoot any time, aiming where the neck meets the feathers.

Two and a half hours after leaving my house that morning, I lifted my gun, aimed and closed my eyes as I pulled the trigger. I don’t know exactly when I opened them again.

“You got him!”

He said I yelled back, “Yeah!” and quickly put my gun on the ground.

I jumped up watching my turkey, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere, then realized Clay was standing beside me holding my gun, waiting for me to give him a high five.

We gathered my trophy (which had two beards), took a few pictures and headed down to the shop to show Joe and the guys.

My husband was just giddy. I’m pretty sure even though he knew I probably could shoot a turkey, that I probably actually wouldn’t.

Everywhere we went, Clay or I told people what we’d been doing. Most everyone’s reactions were much like Joe’s. I received a lot of congratulations, typically accompanied by laughter. I didn’t care. I shot a turkey. In fact, this was my first time shooting any living thing.

We had friends coming to hunt that afternoon and headed to town to run some errands. While there, I asked Clay if we could stop by the courthouse.

I needed another tag.

He headed back to school that Sunday evening. Monday morning I ordered myself a slate call, crow call and a hen decoy.

I was going to take my husband hunting.

 

The Can Can Girl

I decided to conquer one of my greatest fears this September: Canning.

I didn’t do it alone. I had wonderful friends who, via facebook and email, talked me through it.

The first “friend” who helped me was Paula Deen. No, I don’t know her. Not personally, anyway. However, I am a facebook and Food Network follower. She posted a recipe for “Sweet Georgia Peach Honey” with easy instructions. I decided it was time to give it a try.

I bought a lug of peaches and went to work. Not only did I actually survive it, but I also enjoyed it. And it tastes good! FYI, there is no honey in it, and it does not taste like honey. It does look like honey and is sweet and thick and kind of citrusy. It’s yummy!

Another friend of mine posted that she was making peach butter. I asked her to “recipe me,” and went to work again. Score! It was even better than the peach honey! If you’ve ever had apple butter, it’s like that, but made with peaches.

From that point on, I was addicted.

I canned sliced peaches and pears. Hot pack. According to my friend Lynette, it’s the process that’s most recommended. I trust her. Whole-heartedly. I believe she read it in a Better Homes and Gardens cookbook. I would imagine any basic cookbook (i.e., Betty Crocker) would also have great instructions. My husband’s grandmother also uses the hot pack method, so that is forever what I will do.

I highly recommend you find the instructions from someone more knowledgeable than me! However, just so you get an idea of how easy it is, I will say it’s simply a matter of finding a “recipe,” sterilizing jars & lids (and keeping them hot), peeling/coring fruit, slicing, placing into the hot syrup, bringing to a boil (peaches only come to a boil; pears have to boil a few minutes), ladling into the jars, wiping the rims, placing the lids on, putting them into a hot water bath for a length of time determined by jar size, and letting them cool, making sure they seal. (Lids pop and once pressed in the middle cannot jiggle up and down — and it may take a while, so don’t get too impatient!)

I think I was mostly scared of canning because of “The Pressure Cooker.” Come on… a pot with a huge gauge on it? That’s intimidating! To do acidic fruits and/or jellies, you don’t even need one. You can process them more quickly in a pressure cooker if you like. I believe you WILL need a pressure cooker if you decide to can meat or some other food that is less acidic. PLEASE look it up before diving into canning a food. I just used a large stockpot to “process” the jars. (Meaning I simmered them in boiling water to help seal and further sterilize the jars.)

I did several quarts of pears and peaches, then began asking what else I could make on facebook. A couple of other friends of mine highly recommended pear honey. I highly recommend it now, too! It’s amazing.

Here’s my friend Shelia’s recipe for pear honey:

Servings: 12 to 16 half-pint jars
Prep Time: 10 min
Cook Time: 30 min
Ingredients:
20-ounce can crushed pineapple with syrup
16 cups (about 6 pounds) peeled, cored, and chopped pears
10 cups sugar
1 tablespoon lemon juice or 4 pieces ginger

Directions: Mix all ingredients and cook until pears are tender and mixture thickens, approximately 30 minutes.  Pour into hot jars and hot water bath for 10 minutes.

Pears and apples make great dishes together. Pear apple crisp is pure heaven.

I knew I had to make pear apple butter. And pear applesauce.

I ran my pears and apples through a food processor until they were a very chunky applesauce texture for both the butter and applesauce. I cooked the butter down until it was a fine chunky texture. I added lots of cinnamon and sugar to the fruit to make the butter. I even added a little pumpkin pie spice to give it added depth of flavor. It was amazing. Earthy, rustic… and the texture made it all the better.

For the pear applesauce, I didn’t add as much sugar. Good sweet apples won’t need much sugar. In fact, you should be able to make applesauce without sugar. However, I added some, along with a good amount of cinnamon. Even though things need to be sterile so your family can eat safely, you can still taste your food to make sure it’s just how you like it! I did! Just get a clean spoon each time you dip…

My family LOVES my pear applesauce. I do, too.

See the yummy chunks? It doesn’t get anymore homestyle than this!

Finally, I made plain old apple butter. In a crockpot. I’d heard of crockpot apple butter before, so I googled some recipes and picked the one that most suited my taste (and pantry). However, I tweaked it some. Once again, I ran the apples through the food processor before putting them into the crockpot. At the end of the day, they were cooked down very nicely, but I decided I wanted it to be smooth like the kind you can buy at the store. I have an immersion blender. I heart my immersion blender. It’s so fun. And it made my apple butter smooth as… well, butter. Here’s a pic of it in the pot.

My father-in-law thanked me for the “sample” I shared with him and my mother-in-law. It was gone in just a few days, from what I understand. I guess I’d better send over another sample for him.

My pantry is full of wonderful goodies for fall and winter. And I learned that I am capable of canning. It was work, but it was fun work. Way better than cleaning or folding laundry! If you have something you’ve always wanted to do but have feared, just try it!

 

New Adventures

This is where I’ll post new things I’m trying.

For instance, I’ve been canning lately. For the first time ever (in my adult life). I’ll be sure to post about my canning experiences soon!