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Looking forward to a new year, BUT...


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Pretty sure this is the bridge you take to get to 2021! 

 

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That reminds me of this passage from Great Great Aunt Donna Hooks Fletcher's* autobiography...  :)

     *Eponym of the town of Donna, Texas

 

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I was married in September, 1895, to Clyde W. Fletcher, son of William A. Fletcher, a large scale lumber operator, whose humming sawmills were reducing huge bodies of timber to great stretches of desolate stump land.

 

Father Fletcher liked to hunt, at which he was an expert.  His elaborate hunting lodge on the Neches River was a wonderland of wild life, and there he taught me how to shoot.  By the hour I would sit while he regaled me with tales of his adventures in the woods and on the river.

 

One day, on my way home, I rode by a deep, alligator-infested lake.  At least it was inhabited by one old bull alligator, which all the big hunters had unsuccessfully tried to bag.  Breathlessly alert as my eyes scanned the lake’s shoreline, I was thrilled to spot his periscope eyes moving across the water.  With my carbine I took quick dead aim and cut loose.  I seemed to have hit him in a vital spot, so I hurried back to the lodge to report my kill.  With a team of horses the foreman dragged that marsh monster to the lodge.  He measured ten feet eight inches long, and was such a fine specimen that Father Fletcher sent the carcass to San Antonio for mounting.

 

 

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