Well, it was fun while it lasted. I enjoyed my two month hunting break. If you could call it a break, anyhow.
I still have to patiently wait while he checks trail cams and drags me along for a run or bike ride to prepare for a Wyoming hunt next month.
This also includes biting my tongue during the constant screeching of tires when he spots those velvet horns sprouting among the corn fields.
But the change in yesterday morning’s routine told me the hunting season has begun. Sunday morning is the only day my man can sleep in, since he works six days a week. But he awoke at 6:30 to let the pups out, came in the bedroom, gave me a kiss, and whispered, “I am going to look for deer, sleep in, baby.” Ok, I mumbled, love you.
When I woke up, to an empty house, I thought dang it, I’m going to miss him. Because this Sunday morning was the beginning of my fall season life:
- Wyoming hunting,
- west river hunting,
- east river hunting,
- antelope hunting,
- white tail hunting,
- mule deer hunting,
- rifle, muzzle-loader, and bow hunting,
- hunting shows,
- hunting gear,
- hunting buddies,
- hunting shacks,
- hunting blinds,
- tree stands,
- deer scouting,
- date night = “driving around” which we all know what that means.
There is much more, I assure you.
All this meat keeps us quite well-fed for the whole year, plus anything extra is donated to local Indian reservations. I will get a tag myself, and depending on the tag, will mean I hunt with my husband or my father-in-law.
Let the fun begin!