The soft melody of slow swift winds along with the little children playing entertained her ears untill the sound of drums struck again, Jennifer could...see the window of the bluesman's house from her room, he knew the old guy would be beating his drums and singing now. She decided to get back to work and not pay attention, the little noise of tribal songs hit Jennifer's ears, she liked something about it, maybe the warmth of his voice, the emotions in it, the music of his own soil. Jennifer. All right, now I've got a few deer carcasses. What do I do with them? Butcher them, obviously. A commercial butcher would report the carcasses as taken without tags—a big no-no and Mister Sheriff would not be my friend. Alternatively, I'd have to build a slaughter house and a smoke house, learn some butchery skill, cure and smoke the meat. That's not a bad outcome if you like venison, and I happen to like it!All right, your garden is going great guns. You have to water and weed it regularly.. More

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