Fire roaring and deer and turkey in freezer.

it is twenty degrees outside, but inside the mantua manse, life is good. my deer is hanging in the garage, frozen. it is cold out there. my turkey is in the freezer. i got the bird on the last day of the season, Sunday, November 30th. I was calling to a flock of aproximately 50 birds. Plenty of big gobblers in that group. After two hours of working the flock to no avail, i gobbled twice and cut hard on my call. i was announcing that i was the biggest baddest gobbler of all time and that i was willing to fight to prove it. About four minutes later, i heard what sounded like nazi jack boots pounding through the dried leaves and patches of icy snow. it was the first of a long line of big, fat turkeys working their way to me. I was seated, completed camoflaged on a small knoll and the birds went into single file formation and began assembling just below me, out of sight and out of range, while i watched as the feathered formation began fighting and talking and scratching in the forest floor. I saw the bird of my dreams, a four foot high, 2 foot wide monster gobbler, all gold, red, copper and brown, just out of range below me. Of course, I was focused on him. My hunting senses have been honed from years of mistakes and a long season of misses and defeats. i noticed in the corner of my left eye, that the major flock had now crested the hill and there was one set of eyes locked on my position. Rather than risk it all on the big, golden monster below, i moved the barrel of the gun and like papa used to say, "bingo" it was all over. i walked to the small downed bird as turkeys began scattering in the forest, some up in trees and others running across the snow patches throwing up arcs of dirt and feathers. He was small but of big heart and beard. The beard measured seven inches. I was a happy camper. So, Thanksgiving is over, but i will be having bird for New Years.