For the third time since I’ve started this blog, nature has called my bluff. And who receives the blunt of this country gal’s poor poker face? Country Man. It’s not fair, really. Not one bit. You see, three times I have posted about my husband’s upcoming hunting trips, and three times he has come back discouraged, his friends and him shaking their heads in utter wonderment.
I shan’t understand it. Has a curse been laid upon our heads? This is utterly inconceivable!, Rob yells. In some foreign blog-o-sphere land, I sense a wordy lady, and it is she who has led us to our impending defeat, thrice times, Damon says, the darkness overtaking his eyes. But, who, who could be behind this cursed madness! We will find her, Rob says, rolling his hands together in mad travesty, oh yes, we will find her…
And there, in the McDonald’s drive-thru, they mapped out the plan to ending the curse. In the shadows, right next to an orange-haired clown, Country Man sat back, his mind knowing just who she is in which they speak of …
Anyhoo, that’s basically how it went. They returned yesterday, and due to uncooperative weather (that would be her calling my bluff), no mountain lion was seen. However, some tracks were spotted, which offered hope.
And Country Man took some photos, which were mighty appreciated by this Black Hills former resident.
The season ends March 31 … so who knows? Maybe they will go back.
But this time, if they do, I’m gonna keep my typing fingers still, or I’m bound to be found out.
It would sure put Country Man in a predicament.