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Riches Under Water

“Are you looking for Fenn’s treasure?”

The question caught me offhand. I assumed our brief exchange was over. My door, half ajar, jut between us and I peeked around the top of the tinted glass to verify this question with my eyes.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“Are you here looking for Fenn’s treasure?” The man stood with two sets of glasses, one polarized which he wore over his face and the other clear, perched on top of his black bicycling hat. He wore a white cotton sweater that had seen its share of the sun or washing machines or both. His legs were covered in black tights and his feet wore dark brown Merrell’s, somewhat new, which scratched the gravel of the parking lot we both stood on. Again, my mind juggled the words in an incomprehensible wonder of, am I hearing him correctly? and, did he say treasure?

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Riches Under Water
Matt MartensComment

Away From The Things of Man

Hunting a new state or a new area can be trying. Usually, by the time you find what you’re looking for, the hunt is nearing its end. It takes days and miles to scout the land, find the game and determine habits for that particular time frame. There are tools today that make this task a little less daunting. Google Earth. Hunting services like GoHunt, Huntin Fool, and Eastman’s provide insider tips and area breakdowns per season, weapon and trophy potential. I’ve had varied luck with these and I use them often. But usually the best hunts I’ve found have been the ones I’ve scouted on my own first hand and determined for myself what suits my hunting needs and desires. There seems to be no substitute for boots on the ground or eyes on the hillsides.

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Matt MartensComment

Pets - Part II

I began the last post talking about gifts for kid’s birthdays. Please allow me to continue. My youngest recently turned six. Before her birthday, her mother and I discussed our options. Teddy bears? She’s got too many. New clothes? Yes, she needs them but there’s nothing tantalizing about opening a three-pack of Old Navy long sleeves. Bracelet construction kit? No, those things have more beads and trinkets than a hippie flea market. We’ve ruined at least six vacuum cleaners sucking up all the pink, blue, yellow and white fragments of adornment. Right before they peter out, the machines sound like a space shuttle trying to take off without any fuel. How about books? Children’s books? Sure, always a good, safe bet. But last year we gave

Matt MartensComment
Matt MartensComment

The Chickenhawk Cage

Kid’s birthdays. They have one. Every single year. Three kids, three a year. You get the idea. This sounds like a non intrusive number (three out of 365 days) but they continue to approach with rapacious speed. My oldest is only a few years from driving -  a thought that gives me pee shivers. And as far as gifts go, one would think the options available so numerous, there would never be any fear of duplication. Wrong. For some reason, the birthday gift gamut shrinks to an incredibly brief list. Especially for daughters, it seems. There are teddy bears and stuffed animals (as a previous taxidermist, I cringe at the term stuffed animal), bicycles, clothes, art kits, jewelry and the like, and various forms of technological stimulation, from computers to iPad's to Gameboys (yep, just like the ones we used to own!). Then there are pets. At some point, if you have children, you will buy them a pet. Or seven. It’s a scientific

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