A few weeks ago, I ran around the hills and wheat fields north of Pomeroy to do some deer scouting. The week afterwards, I made a few phone calls to land owners, and as the clock ticks down on hunting season(5 weeks!!!!!) I decided the time had come to make a 2nd round of them.
Who made the 1st round cut vs. being relegated to the 2nd round? Well...very scientific...the first calls went to the folks with easy to pronounce names.
On call number 3, things went bad. After butchering the last name and being corrected, I then finally got the point across to the nice lady who answered the phone that I was looking for Charles.
'Oh...but Charles passed away back in February'.
Gulp.
All I had to go off was a name written on the state supplied 'Hunting by Written Permission' sign, of who knows what vintage.
What can you do at that point? Well...having already torn open any scab there might be, I asked who currently controls the permission for hunting, and was told that gentleman was out harvesting, and would be until after 10:30 this evening.
Kind of makes you rethink the whole 'farmer' thing.
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