When I was 12 or so, as soon as leaves fell, after school I would hit the woods down the hill from my house, on the creek that's now dammed into a reservoir, and kill a mess of squirrels with my Dad's 16 ga M37 Ithaca. Got back to the house in time for him to help me clean them, then Mom would fry the young ones and make gravy for supper with biscuits. Dang...
JR


Be strong, be of good courage.
God bless America, long live the Republic.