Wednesday, January 21, 2009

A Dear by Any Other Name

The mountain man went off to forage for the nourishment needed to keep his family hearty throughout this winter. Yep. Another hunting trip.

This was just a short day trip where a lottery is held to claim a limited amount of spots, and my rugged and fierce hunter husband and a few others (hunter hubbies) and assorted offspring set off into the vast unknown. Okay, not so unknown. It's all preserves and it has been quite mapped out, and they (the hunting people in charge- I suppose) send each hunter into his own section so as not to shoot each other up.

So there was my mountain man, deep in the woods before the crack of dawn with nary a soul around. It was just him, his Remington Shotgun, and his cell phone. Oh, and his handheld GPS. Did I mention that while lugging all this survival equipment, he was wrapped in a BRIGHT ORANGE camouflage jumpsuit over three layers of long johns, sweats, pants, double socks, sweatshirts, inner glove liners, outer mittens that expose the fingers on command, hefty snow boots, AND the pre requisite BRIGHT ORANGE hat.

Now, under the best of conditions and attire, my loving man is not one to tip toe delicately through any body's tulips, and that's BEFORE he's wrapped up as if on an arctic expedition to the summit of Mt. Everest. Hell, if he had fallen over out there alone, he damn well may have needed to phone a friend for assistance! (Think turtle on it's shell!) Add to the clothing hindrance the inevitable cussing and swearing that simply must emit from Our Jolly Orange Hunter after following deer tracks for hours in 10 degree weather with nary a buck in sight.

Picture if you will, Joe Pesci's Bambi, from My cousin Vinny. She (Bambi, not Pesci) and her younguns are sipping cool water from a little brook in the quiet forest, when, suddenly there is a great thumping and shaking of the ground a la Fee Fi Fo Fum. You can see how this might be a problem, no?

But, undaunted, our head of household and slayer of creatures great and mighty perseveres through rain, snow, get the picture. And finally, after hours of tracking and trailing, trudging and spying, It's there. A most beautiful 12 point buck comes into view not 30 yards from where our mighty hunter stands. Locked and loaded, he raises his firearm, ready.....aim.......

"Sonofagun! Dadburnit! Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! " Shouts our brave and handsome Grizzly Adams ( Except his language was NOT family friendly, I assure you.)

What happened, asks you, oh constant reader? That ready...aim... lead up? Well, apparently that was when the brave and mighty warrior's cell phone went off full volume. Scaring that handsome buck and EVERY OTHER sign of wildlife within miles! Sigh.

And what was the call that ruined the deer meatfreezer fill up season of 2008? Why I just called to ask him to pick up some nice crunchy rustic bread on his way home to accompany those deer ribs.

He did. Pick up the bread that is. It was wonderful. With Cream of Potato Soup.
From A Dear by Any other Name

Sigh. There's always next season.

He DID get one great shot, though.
From A Dear by Any other Name

Ain't that sunrise a beauty?

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