Uh-oh. Our regular guest author, Margie Church, is back. And her men are up to their hunting shenanigans again!---Faith
I was here a few weeks ago to share a few
tidbits about how the hunters in my family have turned into rednecks. And of
course, that is precisely why I stay behind on these outings. If they took me
along, I'm sure that my body would be found on some deserted gravel road.
Buzzkill, killjoy – yeah, that would be me along with a huge ration of
scaredy-cat. I've learned to cook what they bring home. I've also had to put up
with conversations like these.
Me: "Hi, are you on your way
home?"
DH: "Not quite."
Me: "Oh? Why not? It's a
five-hour drive."
DH: "I had a little trouble
with the DNR up here. Luckily they didn't take my truck or my grandpa's antique
gun."
After that little conversation
involving shooting from a gravel road and changes in road signage, DH became
the President of what I called the "Offenders Club." I'm not sure
anyone in the group has ever gotten a ticket as high as his.
Then there was Christmas 2011. The bow
hunters were at it again. "Come home by 5:00
for dinner," I tell them as they dash out the door. It's dark here by 4:00 and when the phone rang at 4:30 , I had this feeling.
DH: "Send Zach out here, will
you? I shot a deer and we can't find it."
Me: "Oh, no." None of us likes the idea of a wounded animal
left to die. "I'll send him."
And so I'm left alone on Christmas
Eve with our dinner slowly drying out. Eventually, I caved in and ate alone, on
a TV tray while watching the news. Around 8:00 ,
the three of them came home without the deer. They were apologetic of course,
but the evening was toast.
Me: "So what are you going to
do now?"
DH gave me a sheepish look.
"We'll go look for it tomorrow, okay?"
I checked the calendar. Tomorrow was
Christmas day. And so, after mass and dinner, the three of them took off in
search of the deer. The weather here last Christmas was unseasonably warm.
Likely the deer meat was spoiled even if they found it. I watched a movie with
my mom and took a nap while they continued the great search and came home empty
handed. I have to say, DH felt bad about throwing a monkey wrench into the
holiday, and even worse about wounding an animal.
He took another shot at a deer on
New Year's Eve. You'd think I'd have learned my lesson and just said no hunting on holidays. But I didn't.
And the deer went missing and so did they. Luckily they found the deer the next
morning. Temperatures dropped enough not to worry about whether the meat was
okay. They processed the deer in the garage and in the kitchen. I stayed out of
sight until it was over.
This year, I have a different
strategy. I cook dinner at the usual time. They can eat it or not before they
leave. Come Christmas, I think I'll make soup and sandwiches. To go.
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