Yes, sad but true I am a hunting season widow. From the months of mid October to early December my husband generally assumes that I have no life and am able to take on being a single mom for a few months so he can tip toe around the woods in camo and face makeup.
I would like to pause and take a second to assure all my readers that I in fact do have a life during this time period and that I do not understand the thrill of the hunt. Therefore, I could care less if he decided to take up another hobby...like house cleaning.
I am sure the pursuit of a defenseless animal who causes no harm to mankind and is just trying to avoid humans and go about living a peaceful life in the woods is exciting. Waking up before dawn even breaks to put on eleven layers of clothing to walk a mile back into the woods, climb up a tree and perch in absolute silence until an unassuming animal falls within your scope sounds like a GREAT time to me. I totally would love to give up sleeping in, laying in my warm bed and checking my Facebook to see who put up embarrassing drunken statuses the night before in order to go out to hunt. NOT!
I get grossed out looking at a local website's feature called Deer of the Day. It features pictures of proud hunters who boast about their kill by posing with the dead animal as they grip the massive antlers to heave the dead head up to pose for the picture. If that dead animal was a human, you would be considered insane. So morbid. I am sure that hunter has tapped into some sort of primal feeling of being alpha dog over another creature, but where does the joy of the kill end? Okay to kill a fly, a snake, a crow, a pig, a deer but not okay to just slaughter a dog or another human? Who makes up these rules?
There is a bunch of hunting rites that I personally view as psychopathic tendencies. Like eating the heart. Oh yeah, that whole rite caused a HUGE fight in my home Thanksgiving morning. He used my pot to boil it, it smelled nasty and I truly believe you have to have a screw loose to get giddy over boiling a heart to be pickled. And all this comes after GUTTING the deer. Slicing it open, draining the blood, removing vital organs, all elbow deep in blood.... Disgusting doesn't even begin to explain my thoughts on that.
How do I explain to my daughter why one of Santa's reindeer's head is mounted on our wall? By the way, at five she already has her lifetime hunting license.
I admit I used to eat venison without a second thought. There is some satisfaction and joy in knowing that our freezer is full of meat. However when eating venison stir fry one night a few years ago I happened to have just one piece of deer hair in my food. And I lost it. I can't get past that moment in time where I could not look at the fork about to be placed in mouth and deny that it was Bambi. I am definitely someone who can't overthink what it is that I am eating.
And then he watches this channel dedicated to only hunting. 24 hours, 7 days a week of hunting tips, hunting expeditions. A man crouched in a tree whispering into a microphone, "I'm in these here woods, 24 miles north of where I was yesterday. I have heard rumors of a 10 point deer up in these here neck of the woods. Shh...I hear something. Here comes a deer. I am raising my gun up to my shoulder. I am looking through the scope. I am going to pull the trigger when the deer is in my crosshairs. Dang, it's only a doe. Tune in tomorrow when I do the same exact thing." The whole thing whispered.
I try to be supportive. I really do. After Christmas I will be remodeling our bedroom with an outdoorsy/hunting lodge feel. I said, "Yay" when he shot a deer Thanksgiving morning (before I realized he intended to boil a deer heart on my stovetop). But it takes some energy to muster that support, probably the same energy he musters for my blogging, couponing and deal seeking hobby. It causes some fights....it is not understood by the other...as long as it doesn't interrupt our lives we don't complain...but when it's not in full force, it is pleasing.
I just want to apologize in advance to everyone that Santa will probably be running a little behind this year seeing how my husband killed one of his antlered friends. I seriously hope Santa takes the coal he is bringing for my hubby and shoves it into the chamber of his gun. Maybe sets all his hunting gear on fire by splashing milk on it and rubbing cookies together to get a spark. Or take all the deer back to the North Pole. Other than that I am very supportive of my husband's hunting hobby....From the end of December until beginning of October that is....
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