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.
A week or so before deer camp I was driving down Bluemound Road on the way to the day job when I spied a curious piece of machinery. It was a gigantic tubular thing that had an equally giant (but festively-painted) cutting head.
It’s been raining steadily since last night and the farm is one giant, sucking quagmire. The ponds are spilling over. The creek is running. There is standing water all over the place.