Tom grew up in Milwaukee, bartended in Wauwatosa in the '70s and moved here in 1984.
Commentary, observations and musings about the outdoors, life in general and maybe Tosa politics and personalities will be the order of the day. He savors a lively debate as much as terrific cooking.
It is November and believe it or not one of the last crops harvested was a late season planting of radishes.
French breakfast radishes to be sure.
Crammed into my GMC will be three middle-aged hunting and fishing buddies, two hunting dogs, six guns, enough ammo to overthrow a small banana republic, boots, blaze, dog chow, groceries, several cases of beer, a lap top, a couple of gallons of venison chili, some fine sipping whiskey, and my last two jars of garden salsa.
As I write this post I am looking across the top of my desk at a box.
The box is approximately the length of the desk but annoyingly taller than the desk's surface. It is almost a foot and a half deep and even though it is jammed-up tight against the desk it crowds the doorway.
...thank a veteran for their service. It is Veterans Day after all.
Every group of friends usually has a collection of favorite stories they share amongst themselves. I know my friends do. The guys I have hunted and fished with over so many decades have a vast collection of tales that seem to grow taller with the passage of time. I want to share with you a story just recently added to our oral tradition that I know will be retold many times in the years to come. It's a good story and a true story. I'm sure it will improve with age.
Wisconsin's gun opener is this Saturday. Here's some deer hunting humor to help you hunters get in the right frame of mind.
There’s really no justice
A deer hunter knows.
When you’re hunting for bucks
You only see DOES!
When you’re hunting for does
(and this really sucks)
Instead of seeing does
You only see BUCKs!