Tonight, I fed my family...literally

Well, tonight for supper I really fed my family...with a little help from the big guy in this picture. I am happy to say that my opening day of deer season (last Saturday) was supper-worthy. Having made only deer-jerky in the past, tonight I tried my hand at a nice venison roast.

Libby was excited to be with me in the deer stand Saturday and wanted me cook "our" deer that night. I told her that I'd cook it on my next day off...and I did. The meat was fresh (never even frozen) and was delicious. (Even John, the food-taste expert, said so). Mr. Bynum had given me all his tips on how to make the meat taste good. While eating I only had a couple of thoughts about tonight's roast having been in the field and then through my scope.

This brings me to hunting: this is the time of year that I encounter all kinds of opinions about hunting. Many may wonder what I care about hunting. To that I respond like this...First, I DO feel that hunting is okay. In Genesis 9:3 the Lord states that "Every moving thing that liveth shall be meat for you..." In Proverbs 12:27 the Bible says "The slothful man roasteth not that which he took in hunting: but the substance of a diligent man is precious". So as long as hunters do not waste the meat I think hunting is acceptable. I know for a fact that as our land becomes more developed, deer are literally pushed from their habitats. Deer often may have to travel across roads to eat at night on one side and return to a different field to bed down during the day. As the woods disappear, they have to search for food and safe homes. Sometimes I am a little annoyed at folks that think that my hunting is shameful when truthfully, their nice subdivisions and gas-guzzling cars hurt the environment and nature in ways they choose to ignore. Furthermore, many folks don't realize that hunting is a way to control deer populations. If animals just multiply and multiply, eventually they outgrow the capacity of their habitat. Meaning, a given space of woods can only accommodate a certain number of animals before the food supply isn't enough and they start to inbreed because of overpopulation.

Now I must speak of the morality of the sport. Do not think for a moment that I take killing one of God's creatures lightly. Life is life, regardless. I believe that all hunters should be ethical and regard all life as precious. While deer are NOT like Bambi (like so many folks want to refer to), they are beautiful, wise, creatures. While I have killed deer, I have spent many afternoons just watching them in wonder and awe, while never even picking up my gun to aim.

But mostly, I go hunting as an escape. I like planning time to leave our world and go to theirs. I sit there and think or pray or just listen to the sounds. I know it sounds hokey but it really is peaceful. While I'm there I'm not pharmacist, wife, or mommy, I'm just me sitting silently. You think of the woods as being quiet but they really have amazing sounds...it's hardly ever silent. I like it early in the morning when everything starts to wake up, especially the birds. I like looking at squirrel eat his acorns and scamper around in the dry leaves below me. I like seeing a blue jay up close. I like looking around the field and seeing no deer only to glance back to where I just looked and see that a doe has emerged from somewhere. Last year I watched what I called a "family" on several hunting trips. It was a small buck, a doe, and a little deer. I find it funny when a bird lands on my deerstand in the morning darkness and it scares us both to death. I like seeing what I think is a fox only to realize it an old house cat. I like seeing the big buck come out of the woods with his head high in confidence.

I like knowing that no matter how crazy my life is tomorrow, that I can go back in the woods and it always is the same: peaceful, "quiet", and memorable.

Fair Time October 14, 1983

Well as fair time comes around again I always think of this picture. John and I were dropped off out there to have a good time. It was the first (and last time) that John would ride the rides with me. I guess, looking back, he was too macho this first year to tell me he was scared to death of rides. All the following years the rides were out of the question. I remember going through the exhibit hall and volunteering to be weighed...imagine that. He was proud of his weight (he had lost), I wasn't particularly pleased with mine. (Somethings haven't changed.) I always hated the big ole' zit on my forehead in this picture. You can see it right there by my eyebrow. (Stop reading and look). I felt like it was practically a "horn" on my head. Looking at the picture now, we seem to have a real dreamy look in our eyes...must have been love. This year we'll make the trip to the fair again. With the enthusiasm of an 8 year old we'll take it all in. Maybe we are a little less "dreamy" now but happy just the same. Two things are FOR SURE: John won't be riding the rides and I won't be getting on the scales. Enjoy!!