Sunny chose the second picture of the smaller barn......

It has been decades since I held a shotgun in my hands but years ago, the chance to go hunting with my dad was a great thrill for an 11 year old. One of the areas we hunted in was just behind this barn in an open field with just the right brush cover. Even then, this barn needed painting.

Hunting is a desire that left me years ago but the memories of those times with dad and my cousin are priceless to me. I was an only child...me and my cousin were inseparable. Thanksgiving was one of the biggest days of the year for this 11 year old and Mac, my cousin...not because of the Turkey and dressing and the gathering but because it was the day that dad always woke us at 4:00 am to get started. Our yearly hunt had begun. The guns, the boots, brier proof pants and king were all part of the ritual each year. King was our hunting dog...at least to me he was a hunting dog. As I look back now I realize that hunting was the farthest thing from King's mind..it was being with us that he enjoyed and the feeling was mutual.

Some years it actually snowed on Thanksgiving Day...this made the day even more special. It doesn't seem to snow around here anymore on Thanksgiving but snow or not...those hunting trips are ever present in mine, my dad's and my cousins mind at the gathering.

At 85, dad can't get out into the fields anymore and King died in 1965...so we don't hunt anymore...it just wouldn't be a hunting trip without dad and King.