Illinois Indians

This week in our little homeschool preschool, we studied the Indian portion of Thanksgiving. Not such a good picture -- my Native American girl kept hopping. Native Americans are really big in Iowa. Half the towns are named for one tribe or another. (We only live 1/2 hour from Pocahontas.) I guess if you go roam the fields after they have been tilled, you are likely to find an arrow head. I've noticed quiet a few older men combing the fields on my walking route. It's just too chilly to walk around slowly. Brom and I prefer a quick pace to keep the blood flowing on the 20 degree mornings.

This week we head back to Illinois for Thanksgiving -- two days Hamby, two days Leeper. We're all jazzed to see family and eat good food. A bonus for Brant is hunting season. Whoppee! Oh, please let us get another deer to mount on the wall. Just what I want for Christmas. (Please, note the smattering of sarcasm). I'm sure my husband feels the same way about my crafty crap, but mine is pretty and lacks blood. Deer hunting is just something I didn't grow up with. Daughter of a farmer, I ate pig and cow and sometimes chicken. Ah, I guess I should embrace the hunting, for I do so love the hunter. My son already has his camo bibs and flame orange thermal layed out for his suitcase. My future in deer season and pheasant season seems set for many years to come.