*GOING TO JUST STAY ON THE PORCH “
The camp was filled with the normal aromas of a hunting lodge. The holy trinity of cut onions, bell pepper and celery had only minutes before been added to the big black iron pot of well browned speckled belly goose. We would later consume the goose and gravy over rice with a side of butter beans with sausage. The ambiance of the surroundings and the sounds of a low stakes poker game in the corner of the room, a couple of good old boys smoking cigars as they talked about politics and women and a couple of my buddies hovering over the stove had me mesmerized and at once separated me from the structured world around me.
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