Thursday, 4 October 2012

He Went into the Woods A Boy

Author Margie Church is in the building! And wow do I every relate to this post, LOL!--Faith

I grew up in a family that hunted. I had a gun cabinet in my bedroom (thanks dad – it went so well with my purple, chenille bedspread). I've encouraged my husband to enjoy the sport, too. And I've opened a Pandora Box.
Somehow along the way, the shooting sports have taken over our lives. One day, I expect to come home to a note on the kitchen counter saying DH and our youngest have moved out to the gun club for the summer. If they can figure out how to winterize the camper, I'll have to forward his mail. I don't have a passkey for the electronic gate there, so I'll have to subscribe to the visiting hours.
Our sons have had some wonderful experiences with shooting sports. The oldest bagged two deer during rifle season, and he was top gun for the last two years on his high school's trap team. Number six in the state ain’t too shabby either. But he's also learned to smoke cigars after his hunting trophies were dressed out, and last year, I understand he and my DH jumped on the beds at the hotel they stayed in.
Then we turn to our youngest. He showed up with a top gun award this week in trap and shows strong promise to be every bit the crack shot his father and brother are. He hunts deer with a bow, too. We live in Minnesota. He and DH get up at 5:00 a.m. in the WINTER to go sit in a tree, still as an icicle (and turn into one), waiting for that perfect deer. Okay, last year he and DH got deer with their bows but seriously, if I got up at that hour in the middle of winter and said, "I'm going to go sit on the front steps for three or four hours," DH would have LOONY BIN on speed dial.
Years ago, I made a fatal mistake. I let DH take those boys hunting without motherly supervision. They came home excited to share all their adventures while DH had panic etched on his face. What happens in the woods is apparently supposed to stay in the woods. Over the past ten years, I stopped worrying about whether our youngest would fall into the outhouse (shudder) or get burned toasting marshmallows. Why? Oh, I have bigger fish to fry, figuratively speaking of course since I'm the only one who catches fish. 
Let's see, the youngest, at age 6 fell off the tailgate while the truck was moving – slowly of course – and my husband noticed the bobbing orange hat in his rear view mirror. That would be said child chasing after the truck.
Or hear the oldest come home and say, "I went in the woods a boy, and came out a man." I about fainted. Upon revival, I learned he'd shot his first grouse.
Then the other chimes in that he ate mostly Reese's peanut butter cups the entire weekend.
Or early Saturday morning, I get a call from the area hospital to learn all three of them were there. The oldest was getting stitches for a whittling accident. $600 later, we're all good and back in the woods.
Readers beware. My eyes are opened. The gun club is not your friend. Hunters and shooters are insidious. It's a whorehouse for sportsmen. Once they join, you'll see your budget drained faster than water in a storm sewer. They'll wear nothing but camo. You'll get camo-colored gifts.
"It's food on the table." Yeah, but we've had one puny grouse cost hundreds of dollars. And that promise, "It's the last gun I'll ever buy," is a bald-faced lie, spoken like the addicts they are (or are becoming).
Hunting season has arrived. DH and our youngest are already sitting in the trees in the afternoon. They text each other to while away the time. No kidding. This weekend, all three take to the woods for their annual father-sons grouse hunting. The forecast for the grouse season is poor. They aren't staying home. I noticed Swisher Sweets cigars were on the shopping list.
I'm going to the opera.

RAZOR by Margie Church and K.B. Cutter
Amy and Bryce don't live the Dominant/submissive lifestyle, but Bryce acts every bit the Dom in the bedroom. And Amy's had enough. Enlisting her best friend's help is a drastic move. Will inviting Raine into her marriage destroy it? How will she cope when Bryce and Raine become intimate?

Though Bryce doubts he'll ever become a switch, he's determined to make Amy happy. Months later, he struggles to keep an emotional distance from Raine. His journey of self-awareness is anything but predictable or vanilla.

After only a few scenes with Bryce, Raine's roles as Domme and best friend blur. Her ideals about love and marriage shift. She questions her own motives at every turn. Can she get out of this relationship triangle unscathed?

Three people with different motives come together to form a very contemporary relationship.  Who will get what they want, and who will be forever changed? 


Margie's website: Romance with SASS

K.B. Cutter's Website link:  www.kbcutter.com 

10 comments:

Margie Church said...

Thanks for having me.The insanity has begun again. Come back later this month for part 2!

Faith said...

Great post, Margie! I totally understand where you're coming from. My husband and four sons all lose their minds during deer season, lol.

Fixed that white space problem in the excerpt, too.

anny cook said...

I think it's delicious that they spend time together. Even better that they actually do. Treasure it.

Margie Church said...

Four sons who are hunters? Oh my Faith. I'll say the rosary for you! Thanks for fixing the background. Looks marvelous.

Anny they have made some of the most wonderful memories. I cannot begrudge that. Thanks for coming by.

Marguerite Hall said...

I learned to drive at a hunt club. True I was 8, but still some of my best memories revolve around going to the cabin. I'm glad you have a good attitude about "their" time in the woods and find time to make the most out of their absence.

Anonymous said...

And Fall Into Love continues--nice! My late dad loved hunting, though only fowl (he could never bring himself to shoot deer). He used to go to the local do-it-yourself car wash to clean the birds, I kid you not! I secretly always preferred domestic duck to the wild (since I like crispy skin, and you can't really eat wild duck skin), but my mom's cumberland sauce really made it sing.

vitajex(at)aol(dot)com

Barbara Elsborg said...

This is so far away from the world I live in - the UK. We do have hunters but nowhere near the proportion in the US. But I've just been to stay in Texas and the flat was 2 miles from a target shooting range - the noise!!!!!! I was surprised son's dog didn't react because he hates bangs but maybe it was because it was so continual.

Margie Church said...

MOTS, I think our youngest has put more miles on DH's truck than I have - driving at the gun club. I am still startled when he drives up if I'm there. He's got a number of years to wait before he can officially drive! And yeah, I do my thing. It would be very selfish of me to deny these adventures with their dad.

Margie Church said...

Vita - local car wash! OMG too funny. I was cleaning 5 grouse on Monday. My mother hated that job so my dad did that work. I don't mind. At least I know I've gotten "all the lead out!" And thanks for participating in my contest!

Barbara, it sure can be noisy on the gun range. I bring hearing protection. I don't care for loud noises. As for the dog, yes, likely it was conditioned to this sound. Thanks for reading and I'm glad you enjoyed your visit to Texas. It's a wonderful state.

Anthology Authors said...

I used to go dove hunting with my dad. He'd shoot them and I'd retrieve. (Cheaper than having a dog since I was already part of the family. I was easier to train, apparently.) Then I hit about 10 and Dad winged a dove. I looked at him with my big teary eyes and said, "But, Dad, that bird could be someone's mother." Sadly, that was the last time we went dove hunting together. Matter of fact, I don't remember Dad hunting after that. Dove was yummy. Dad and his buddies would clean the dove down at the creek. (Mom's dad was a big hunter too. Apparently, she had her fill of cleaning animals as a child and refused to do it for Dad. He didn't seem to care.)

I do think it's wonderful that your sons and DH love to spend time together, even if it is hunting. My DH won't even go camping. Well, he might, but it's taking a bit of convincing on my part. So, maybe in another year or so I'll get him in a tent. LOL But hunting? Not likely. LOL

Great post!

Marci