I scouted Turkeys last night. Turkey (hunting) season starts tomorrow and I hope to slay one. In order to slay one, it requires a 3:30 am alarm, a 4:00 am hike, some quality hen calls, lots of luck and a 12 gauge. Horrified yet? And you thought I would miss bike racing?

So last night I tromped around the woods hooting like an owl trying to get Turkey’s to gobble before the roosted for the evening. It was a pretty wild experience. I am pretty sure Martha was horrified when I came home all decked out in camo.

For those of you keeping track, Martha is still pregnant. 30 weeks to be exact. 10 more to go. Trust me when I tell you, she will be happy when the kiddo arrives or more specifically vacates her belly.

The name game has begun. We are VERY far apart. Anyone have any suggestions?