Not dead, just hunting


Yes, a four-inch snowstorm put a damper on our grouse hunt in the Nebraska Sandhills.

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.
   – Mark Twain (1835-1910), American writer and humorist

Not dead, just hunting

In response to questions from readers via telephone calls, e-mails, and text messages:

  • No I have not died.
  • Yes, my latest blog essay was posted September 20; none since.
  • No, I have not stopped writing.
  • Yes, I am taking a brief hiatus from writing during hunting seasons.
  • No, I will not write about this weird election year.
  • Yes, Abbey is doing excellent work on birds this fall.
  • No, I am not shooting well, and NO, I will NOT write about it.
  • Yes, a freak October 5-6 snowstorm buried our hunting camp in the Sandhills.
  • No, I have not yet taken a deer with my muzzle loader.
  • Yes, I am still drinking beer and smoking cigars – petulantly.

My series of six consecutive hunting forays across four states will end November 21, except bow season for deer here in the North Country. If I do not post a blog essay by December 1, rumors of my death may be true.

Between now and December 1, the best way to read my musings about hunting and life in the North Country is to acquire one or more (or all) of my books, available through my Author Page on

Jerry Johnson Author Page


The Old Coot

About Jerry Johnson

Curmudgeon. Bird hunter and dog trainer. Retired journalist and college public relations director. Former teacher, coach, mentor. Novelist and short story writer. Husband, father, grandfather.
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