Over the Top, Dogs and Sheep. Well Done!

ER M. Shelley, his Champion Pointer "Hard Cash" and one of his hounds

 Shelley accompanied Paul Rainey on his African Hunts where they hunted Lion with Hounds, Airedales and Curs. Shelley trained many bird dogs to become field trial Champions and is in the National Bird Dog Hall of Fame in Grand Junction Tennessee.

Above "Hard Cash" by Edmund Osthaus and below one of Shelley's Hounds by Osthaus

"James Monroe Avent (1860-1936), along with Hobart Ames, was responsible for establishing the National Bird Dog Championship in Hardeman County. The bird dog trials continue to be held annually at the Ames Plantation in Grand Junction. Avent’s house in Hickory Valley was listed in the National Register on April 25, 2001, because of his role in starting and promoting the bird dog trials. Both Avent and some of the dogs he trained were notable enough to be placed in the Field Trial Hall of Fame. The house is also significant because it is a fine example of the popular Queen Anne style. A variety of sawn and turned woodwork embellishes the house." -- Tennessee Historical Commission Website, 2002, National Register of Historic Places 

The story goes that the manner of his death was as follows: J. M. Avent at age 76 wanted to go fox hunting but had pneumonia. The doctor 
said he would die if he went. Avent said, "I would rather go fox hunting and die than stay at home." So he went ... and died.

James Monroe Avent below with World Champion "Momoney"

Tyrus Wong, Another Favorite Artist!

 Wong retired in 1968, nearly half a century ago, and in this time he began making kites, a pastime that has grown into something larger than a mere hobby. Wong recalls that the first kite he built didn’t fly, but after three more attempts he got one off the ground. He’s created so many kites now—including one that’s 200 feet long—that they hang from the ceiling and fill his house.¹⁹ Wong’s kite making caught the attention of documentarian Erik Friedl, who featured Wong in his 1990 short Flights of Fancy.

Though Wong’s most well-known work is the background art he did for Bambi, which helped make the film what it is, he has also been an exhibiting artist since before Roosevelt was elected president. He has illustrated books, painted murals, created Hallmark greeting cards that have sold millions, and worked on John Wayne films. (He says that Westerns are his favorite.) In 2004, See said that Wong was the oldest living Chinese American artist; if that wasn’t true then, it more than likely is now, and you can see works from the course of his long life at the Walt Disney Family Museum.

Quotes from "Edward Abbey"

Portrait Finished

Got to do this portrait for a friend. It's of his Great Great Grandfather. All I had was a pic of a Old Photo that had ended up being destroyed in a fire so I took his pic and blew it up a bit and painted from that. The photo was very washed out and had been torn in two. I took permission to put a tie on him as I couldn't tell from the photo what was happening around his neck. Hope to get back to painting a few dog Paintings which I have wanted to do for a while.

THE LURCHER IN THE FILED, FEN, FOREST AND SCRUB, VOL 1      Simon Fairclough

from over at "The Hunting Life" where you can order online

New Release “The Lurcher ~ In Field, Fen, Forest and Scrub” Volume One.

This hardback book contains interviews with lurcher hunting enthusiasts from around the world including Richard Christian, Colin Didriksen, Jo Hendley, Davey Rodgers, Steve Barton and many more.

There are also various hunting stories including “Foxing in America”, “Bulpa”, “A Mixed Bag” and a write up on a coyote hunt from the Western United States.  With over 60 colour photos of working dogs and their quarry, ranging from rabbits and fox to coyotes this book is a must for any hunters book collection.This is the first volume of what will be a collectable series so order your copy now.

The book is priced at £25 plus £3 for first class postage. (Overseas orders please contact us at friedlettucebooks@gmail.com for postage charges)

Payment by cheque or Postal Order to…..
Fried Lettuce Books
PO Box 8132
Ilkeston
DE7 0ES

Please make cheques payable to “Fried Lettuce Books”

One of my Bear Stories

I was just reading Jameson Parker's post about a new book he is reading, "A Story Like the Wind"by Laurens Van Der Post. He mentioned a few dark nights he had experienced, one in particular in Africa where I have experienced some very dark nights myself. This led to a memory of a story of a dark night that was told to me way back when I worked for an outfitter in the Teton Mountains of Wyoming. My friend Willy Watsabaugh related this little diddy to myself and a few other buds as we sat at the bar in Moose Wyoming on our way home from a ten day Elk Hunt.
It seems that Willy's outfit which hunted the drainage next to us had from the start of the season been visited regularly by a grumpy old Grizzly Sow. Now tensions were high in that camp and the cook was especially on edge as he often spent the whole day in camp alone while the rest were out hunting. Things had progressed to the point that the Game Wardens had flown in by helicopter and installed an electric fence around the entire assembly of tents. Still the old girl persisted and had on this day stuck her head into the Cook Tent and gave a little low grunt at the unsuspecting cook, busy with his back turned washing the mornings dishes. Needless to say there was a few deathly silent moments until she turned and with another low huff bumbled off to parts unknown. Well when the parties of guides and hunters returned late in the day they were greeted by a heavily armed, very shaky cook. He related the days events and as darkness fell there was still a group out who arrived late in the night and upon hearing the story from the crowd who by this time was armed to the hilt all assembled in the cook tent and steadily became more and more worked up. Willy, eased out into the night to go feed the horses down by the corals. There close by was a tent set up to house the tack and feed and a fellow guide stood up at the cook tent shinning a light and holding a rifle for moral support. Willy pulled back the loose flap on the tent and reached for the fifty five gallon barrel that held the feed. As he reached forward his hand came to rest on something warm and furry and as the warm piss ran down his leg he high tailed it back to the cook tent arriving from his fifty yard sprint with out taking a breath exploding in curses that, "that damn bear was in the saddle tent and this was the last straw", he had had enough and he was going to shoot that _?___?__?__?__ bear. A quick plan of attack was devised and every hand got locked and loaded, checked flashlight batteries and began a semi circle like stalk. The darkness got darker and the lights didn't seem to be quite enough to anyone but there was strength in numbers. Rifles, Pistols and knives glistened in the light of the flashlights as the posse approached the dark quiet tent. A long dead pine sapling held by Willy waved in the air as the proper approach was followed so as to avoid possible stray bullets. A last minute survey of the hoard was made just before be eased the sapling into position to hook the loose flap and pull it aside rendering the inside seeable. At this point I have to say all that were there at the bar were shaking their heads still in disbelief that they had survived the encounter. We hung on his every word as he spoke. He said, "I moved the flap aside and the lights found their mark as our old Pack Mule turned his head into the light to look at the amassed bunch of open mouthed killers while munching blissfully on a mouth full of oats." "Well Hell," he said it's that damn mule. So everybody went back to the cook tent and proceeded to get very drunk.

New "Paul Rainey" Photos I found. Hunting Lions in Africa with Hounds

sorry for the poor quality

Wisdom from the Comedians, (got this from one of my Houndsman Buddys)

You know the honeymoon is over,when the comedians start.

The liberals are asking us to give Obama time. We agree...and think 25 to life would be appropriate. 
--Jay Leno


America needs Obamacare like Nancy 
Pelosi needs a Halloween mask. 
--Jay Leno


Q: Have you heard about McDonald's'
new Obama Value Meal?
A: Order anything you like and the guy behind you has to pay for it. 
--Conan O'Brien


Q: What does Barack Obama call 
lunch with a convicted felon?
A: A fund raiser. 
--Jay Leno


Q: What's the difference between
Obama's cabinet and a penitentiary?
A: One is filled with tax evaders, blackmailers and threats to society. The other is for housing prisoners. 
--David Letterman


Q: If Nancy Pelosi and Obama were 
on a boat in the middle of the ocean and it started to sink, who would be saved?
A: America! 
--Jimmy Fallon


Q: What's the difference between
Obama and his dog, Bo?
A: Bo has papers. 
--Jimmy Kimmel


Q: What was the most positive result 
of the "Cash for Clunkers" program?
A: It took 95% of the Obama bumper 
stickers off the road. 
--David Letterman



Solution to the problem in Egypt:
They want a new Muslim leader, give them ours.

Dogs and Hunting, If you live for the two your already a friend even to those you haven't met yet!

My Warmest Thanks to Liz and Evie!

I've never had the opportunity to be around the sport of Fox Hunting but recently, because of friends who are involved I've been becoming a bit more educated and though I never thought I would have a lot in common with Foxhunters as usual I was wrong. You know the whole process is somewhat  of a major/minor production and depending on the person and the extent he or she wants to take it to this equates to major expense. It looks like a blast regardless and depending on ones ability as a horseman and the terrain, you better be in shape and have a good mount beneath you to keep you healthy.

This weekend friends invited us out for the first Hunt of the season for the Mooreland Foxhounds which was to include the "Blessing of the Hounds" and a few days before the event my two buddies threw a surprise at me as they arranged for me to accompany Benjamin Hardaway during the day's hunt. Mr. Hardaway is for all purposes a "Legendary Foxhunter" but more importantly to me he is the legendary breeder of hunting dogs, (Foxhounds, Lurchers, Cat Hounds) basically living almost all of his 94 years within the realm of hunting, especially Foxhunting.

I listened to his stories, and knew that what little time allowed me to hear was only a fraction of his knowledge concerning dogs and hunting so I can only hope to one day hear more but I am thankful to have at least met him and spent that time with him. He was a gentleman and went out of his way to answer a few questions as mostly I just wanted to listen, man what a good day! I went home and just sat and tried to remind myself of the things he told me, made some notes, went to bed with a smile on my face.

                                          Here is "Trouble," especially the two on the right!

                                                    Mr. Hardaway

The 3 VanSant Women! a force to be reckoned with especially when you add Liz to the mix.

Huntsman, and new hog hunting buddy, Rhodri Jones-Evans

A Favorite Artist, Travis Schilling

Nomad-ism

One traveling man in China has made his home part of his wardrobe by carrying a hand made shelter on his back like a snail. China News caught up with Liu Lingchao, a 38 year old man who makes his living selling plastic bottles and cans he collects from streets across China. Rather than constantly looking for shelter on his journeys, Lingchao has made a portable bamboo and plastic sheeting sleeping “shell” that he lugs from place to place, like a snail carrying its shell.

378 Posts Later,

I went back this morning and read my first post just to remind myself of where I've been, still hoping  I get where I'm going. Time.......don't waste it.

Thursday, February 5, 2009 In The Beginning

The process of creating a visual utilizing words never occurred to me to take any other form other than written stories, articles, books and novels of the hold in your hand variety. So after joining the great migration to Cyber-publishing, first with my website www.apmcgee.com then later www.kurtzandmarlow.com, I have with a bit of anxiety launched this new trivial piece of self-indulgence as yet another means of self expression, one that will hopefully be as entertaining as some say my artwork is. I've had a great life so far and have discovered a few things about myself along the way. I have come to realize that what is true in my life, that meaning, "that which I truly desire", is what I desired most in my adolescent days, the simple things that I believe God put there in my heart of desires, long before I was the gleam in my father's eye. In the beginning I was drawn like bees to honey toward "being outside". Where I was born and raised wasn't out in the country on some southern farm or backwoods homestead, we lived less than a mile from downtown, as the crow flies, but we were country and we lived like it.

There were woods down across our backyard after you passed the tomato garden, after you waded across Sweetwater Creek, after you passed my Grandpa in his little barn like shop standing there sharpening lawnmower blades, sparks flying from the bench grinder.

Woods across the backyard after you passed the outdoor kitchen area where sliced apples, peaches and pears lay drying on homemade sawhorse tables in the fall sunshine, honey bees, flies and yellow jackets buzzing my mom, aunt and grandmother as they washed mason jars and lids in wash tubs getting ready to can.

Woods across the backyard that all us kids shared with possums, coyotes, coons and whippoorwills and all our dogs. I was probably four or five when they finally paved the road in front of the house. By then my Dad and the rest had introduced me to hunting, fishing and the romance of all that was good about "being outside". I didn't realize then that living, loving and working were just by products of what made me tick and ultimately, my tick, came from "being outside".

Many years passed and I drifted farther and farther from the energy that wound my clock. Instead I pursued all the clever enticing enchantments that civilized culture uses to exhort a man to reach his potential. The farther you get down that road however, the harder it is to return. Some never do. It's usually a bad conscious, and the depression that goes with it that saves most, but most aren't conscious of their compass drift. I have lot of work to do myself, making up for that drift. I'm making peace with my conscious as I go.

Many know the truth, but have trouble giving up society's definition of success. That being, "the accomplishment of having lots of stuff!" Have you ignored your compass, ignored being at peace with you mind, preserving your soul and living that long lasting, God given, healthy life? Are your too busy taking care of all that stuff? If you are still wondering what I'm talking about ask yourself a question, this question. This morning when you first opened your eyes in the dim gray dawn, did you have an overwhelming, heartfelt, can't wait, euphoric desire to get up get out of bed and go do whatever it is you do? If you can't answer that the way you wished you could, then you are down that road. Only you can turn it around, but forgive me if I don't hold my breath. 

I'm here for you though, for what's that's worth, I mean well by it anyway. Truth is though, your probably too far gone, you better go do your taxes. Go on now, move along, go do something that your accustomed to and comfortable with, you better go check your credit score and see about trading that last years model Range Rover for a new one.

Now to the faithful, the faithful remain as does the "Dude Abide," the faithful still seek, seek that which was lost. I'm here for the faithful, here to share what I feel when I seek, here to share what I feel when I sink back down into the guts of my remembrance, down into what I've left there untouched for so long, those memories that leave me giddy with childlike happiness. Hopefully I can spawn in you a little enlightenment, pricking you to be aware like me of memories, memories of what made you the happiest, smells of a camp fire burning down low, sounds of the quiet whisper of "good night" from your dad, an owl hootin way off down deep in a hollow, the wind bringing a little rain on the canvas, aware of a deep joy in your soul, smiling at how tired and happy you are, feeling yourself drifitin off, breathing slow, starting to dream, mind clearing, resting, body jerking, fingers twitchin, snugglin down, deep in the bag, nice warm, being there, "Being Outside".