I must post. Four months is too long, and I do have an excuse. My MA work at WBS has held me at bay and I am taking the Fall off to get a breather.

My Dad. He has type 2 diabetes and is not doing so well.

I love him. He is not perfect and I doubt that many dads are in their children's eyes, but he's my dad.

A Heritage. He handed me my first book of theology after I became a Christian; He bought me my first shotgun (20 ga) and rifle (7 mm) when I was quite young; he took me to work with him even at the age of 7 where I watched him build cabinets and deal with employees and customers.

Fond memories. Perhaps my greatest memories are of me, my dad, and the woods. Dad was quite an elite bow hunter and archer. He shot many hunting videos as well as archery videos with world champions. I, on ther other hand, was not a hunter (however that happened). But I loved the woods and my dad was a master in them. I do not think I ever knew a greater hunter. I remember being in awe at how he could sneak up on me in my tree stand or how he could on the drop of a hat call a deer within touch.

Deer camp. We often drove for hours to get to deer camp. Several hours to get to vicksburg and then to the Yazoo River where we boarded a ferry to cross. Then we drove on for a long time through endless woods (glorious woods) till we came to the camp. Ours was up on 20 foot stilts. We had built the camp from an old trailer tearing it completely down and rebuilding it with lovely decks that looked out over vast fields and behind which was a small river.

We always drove in dad's jacked up, hunter green toyota (before that his red forerunner). He always had it filled with hunting stuff and the unique smell that goes with it.

Cabinets. Dad was hard to work for but I am glad. I learned from him to work in a tough sort of fashion and also how to administrate the labor. By the time I was in high school I could, because of him, build a mean cabinet. This skill has been my primary mode of living during the last four years.

Spiders. Dad hated them but he would pick up a snake without thought. Actually when he was a kid he would skirt a tree and rob the nest of Red Hawks. He would train the birds and catch snakes for them.

There was a breech in this relationship between my dad and I. At about eighth grade I was very rebellious and my dad rarely spoke to each other without arguing up until 10th grade when I became a christian.

Bow fishing. Though I was not a hunter I was an avide bowfisherman and it is here that dad and I really had fun together. We built a boat called the Fish-K-Bob II, a Carolina Skiff (7X20) with a full deck and molded in lights around the front with an air fan. We would often take off at a given moment to Slidell, LA or Guntersville Lake, AL for a good time.

Thanks to my dad, Kenny