When Frank and I first married we were at Mama’s when he was wanting me to go hunting with him. I did not want to go. Mama said, “When he asks you to go somewhere with him go, because if you don’t the time will come when he won’t ask you to go with him.” I am not too sure that is the “Best Advice” I ever got. At least I tried to follow her advice, on one or more occasion. I really wasn’t too sure. Frank, his brother Melvin, and I went deer hunting at a place they called Shully and Ollie. I am not sure about the spelling. If you asked me where it was today or I would face a firing squad tomorrow you might as well shoot me today. All I know it is somewhere near Mena. Oh, my, it was cold. I had on all the clothes I could get on including a pair of men’s long handle underwear. Frank and I slept in a little pup tent, Melvin in the car. I don’t know why when I am out in the wild I seem to have the call of nature more often especially at night. I had been having Frank get up with me. One time I decided to go outside the tent on my own. Just as I poked my head out of the tent a screech owl in a tree just above the tent let out a scream. I forgot all about where I was going. Frank started laughing and asked me what was the matter The second night it started sleeting. I was so cold I wanted to leave for home. Instead in the middle of the night Frank and Melvin took me to brother Pat’s house in Waldron. I was so cold I crawled in the bed with Pat and Winona to get warm. I have had people ask me what I did while the others hunted. I hunted, too. I had my spot when we hunted deer, when we hunted quail or squirrel. I had the Best of the Best 20 gauge shotgun. When I say the best of the best I mean I could usually hit whatever I shot at. The VFW used to have a turkey shoot every Thanksgiving. I won a lot of turkeys. A lot of men had me shoot with that gun for them. Not bragging “JUST FACT”. Frank taught me well plus we spent a lot of Sunday afternoons at the Skeet Range at Chaffee. My favorite thing to hunt is squirrel. I love to walk in the woods in the fall of the year especially after a rain. That was before squirrels moved to town. Would I shoot a squirrel or deer today? No way! Quail, yes. Frank took son Bob squirrel hunting one time. Bob killed a squirrel his first shot. It broke his heart. He never went again. When I went with Frank when our two kids were little we had good sitters. Mama and Grandy and Grandma Hughart. It was a sad day when Frank had his first Bad Heart attack and could no longer hunt or trotline fish. Although he continued to get his fish hooks out every spring to sharpen them When he did we knew spring was just around the corner.