Today was a beautiful Fall day. I'd much rather have been out sitting under some Oaks waiting on Squirells or running after some Dogs on a Bear than working down at the Slaughter House*. Maybe even trying to call one in just before dark. My series of thoughts lead to my frutration with writers block. I have several writings in the process and find it very hard to concentrate on them now. I figure that I will share the opening paragraphs of one of them. This is from "Stalker He Is Called"** This is only because you'l are nice folks. Hence, if your not nice, don't read it.

Children’s laughter intermingled with the yelping of dogs along the fields edges. New Moon could not see the playing of the animals and the young for the corn and the beans. Three stalks grew together forming a pod with beans climbing each. Between the pods there was squash with pumpkins and gourds scattered between. This allowed for the planting of plenty for the settlement, though seeing through the maze of vegetables was not easy.
Tuckasegee did not know hunger. The towns fields were bountiful and the surrounding mountains had plenty of wildlife. This gave a certain sense of security to New Moon. She had heard the elders talk of harder times, but, had not experienced them in her life. The sounds of the children began to grow closer to her as she looked for them. It was hard to see the smaller young ones with all of the greenery of the garden.. She pulled her long black hair behind her ear and wiped the sweat from her brow. It was very humid and the sun had been bright all day. She took her eyes off of the search for her and her sister, The Doe’s, children and looked behind her for the gourd water bottle. Finding it she brought the bottle to her lips and the cool liquid refreshed her body. As she brought the bottle down two boy’s of eight summers came running up to her. One boy was The Doe’s oldest son, the other was a member of the same clan, The Wolf Clan.
"Time you work", she told them. "Get the younger ones, keep them in sight". She was referring to her own and The Doe’s younger son. A low rumble of thunder sounded in the west beyond Cullowhee Mountain. New Moon looked to her older sister who was working closer to the rivers edge.
"Sister…Sister…", New Moon called. The Doe raised her head, looking over her shoulder and smiled to the younger woman. She too had sweat gathered on her brow, the sun glistening on her shoulders and bare breast while she smiled at New Moon. As The Doe pulled her hair back from her temples she suddenly jolted, her eyes widening and her lips puckering before her mouth fell open. New Moon knew something terrible had happened to her sister and screamed out for help. The Doe reached back with her right arm and clutched an arrow patrudeing from her side just under her armpit next to her breast. An inaudible word escaped her lips as she fell forward. "Husband!", New Moon shouted as loud as she could while rushing to her fallen sister. Behind her from the gardens edge two war whoops sounded and were echoed by others in the distance. New Moon felt tears streaming from her cheeks and saw them fall onto her sisters head as she lay prone on the earth. She raised The Doe’s head, looking on her face. The Doe’s eye’s were glassy and her face was flush, only shallow breaths came from her lips. The older children began to scream hysterically and, the younger ones, still unaware of The Doe’s murder began to cry out.
The two warriors coming to help quickly made their way through the foliage. They passed by the little ones crying and looking around the corn in confusion. Arrows notched in their bows they, moved forward quickly, trying to see the cause of commotion. New Moon could be heard whaling, the children were screaming. Through out the settlements fields women and children were running for the towns gates, not knowing the extent of circumstances. As the two men made their way closer to the rivers edge they saw New Moon holding The Doe’s corpse while facing the heavens. Death hung over the living as thunder rolled across the mountains.

That's as far as it goes here. I won't be Bear Hunting this weekend...The Army Reserves call. Wich reminds me, I need a new Predator Call. The reed came out of mine. The Jolly Red Head Giant loved to take it from my truck and give it a squeel at Drill. People would be looking all around the parking lot wondering what that was.

Applachian Intellectual

* It's not so bad, my last Job was on Maggies Farm
**That's how the Cherokee would have said it so hush up.