In November 1621, a Thursday, I believe, the Pilgrims were fixin’ to set down to a meager meal of fish sticks and boiled beets. When out of the woods marched a jovial band of Indians packin’ a bushel of roastin’ ears and two wild turkeys.

Each fall, the governor of the great state of South Dakota hosts his Invitational Pheasant Hunt. This is meant to be a way to show off South Dakota’s state bird, their pride and joy, the wily pheasant.

Lately there has been dissension at the rancho. I have overheard murmurings in the barnyard, in particular regarding my stock trailer. The grumbling animals enlisted my teenage daughter to present their complaints.