Marian's Hunting Stories, etc., etc., etc...

Marian's Hunting Stories, etc., etc., etc...
Stories of my hunting experiences with family, friends or whatever else I want to blog about.

A Dixie Lady Deer Hunter

Article by Fred Messina, editor of "On Target Outdoors" from The Vicksburg Evening Post on Friday, January 19, 1990. Photo by Bob Phillips.

Bob Phillips came up the other day with a photo of his wife Marian and a deer she got on Brown's Point New Years Eve. The deer was an 8-point with 16 inches of inside spread that weighed in at 190 pounds. A nice trophy in anyone's book. However, the tale Bob told is that this was Marian's fourth deer this year and he claimed that he would have done better than he did if he had not spent so much time hauling Marian's deer out of the woods. Come off it, Bob. We all know who the hunter was.

Saturday, May 09, 2015

Cajun Country


What is a Cajun?
By Bob Hamm

According to the history books, a Cajun is a descendant of a hardy group of Nova Scotian exiles who settled over 200 years ago along the bayous and marshes of South Louisiana. The name Cajun (they tell us) is a contraction of "Acadienne .. Acadian." So much for the textbook!

Little Cajun children are made of gumbo, boudin and sauce piquante ... crawfish stew and oreilles de cochon. The Cajun child is given bayous to fish in, marshes to trap in, room to grow in, and Catholic churches to worship in. (In other parts of the world, little girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice; while little boys are made of snips and snails and puppydog tails.)

A Cajun likes fiddles and accordions in his music, plenty of pepper in his courtboullon, shrimp in his nets, speed in his horses, neighborliness in his neighbors, and love in his home. He dislikes people who don't laugh enough, fish enough, or enjoy enough of all the good things God has given to the Cajun country. Also, he dislikes being hurried when he's resting and distracted when he's working; seeing people unhappy, and he'll do all he can or give all he has to bring a smile to a face stricken with sadness.

A Cajun likes to dance and laugh and sing when his week of hard work has ended. And just as Saturday night at the fais-do-do replenishes his store of energy, Sunday at church refreshes his spiritual and moral values and keeps strong his always sustaining faith.

A Cajun is a link with a proud past. His is a glorious heritage! He is a man of tolerance who will let the world go its way if the world will let him go his. He is a man of great friendliness who will give you the crawfish off his table, the sac-a-lait off his hook, or the shirt off his back.

A Cajun is a complex person, with as many ingredients in his makeup as the gumbo Mama makes for special company. He has tolerance for those who earn it, charity for those who need it, a smile for those who will return it, and love for all who will share it.

If a Cajun likes you, he'll give you this whole wide, wonderful world; and if he doesn't, he'll give you a wide berth. When you cross a Cajun, he gives you the back of his hand and the toe of his boot, for he can be stubborn as a mule and ornery as an alligator. If he sets his head on something, he'll fight a circlesaw before he'll yield to your opinions -- you'd as well argue with a fence post as to try to convince a Cajun.

And, as fun-loving as he is, a Cajun can work as hard and as long as any living man. He carved out "Acadiana" by hand, from the swamp and marshes and uncultivated prairies. But when the work is done and argument is ended, a Cajun can sweep you right into a wonderful world of joie de vivre with an accordion chorus of "Jole Blone" and a handful of happy little words ... five little words to be exact: "Lessez le bon ton roulle!" -- Translated: "Let the good times roll!"

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