Wednesday, October 3, 2012

GOOD SEASON SO FAR

 Opening day was Monday. It's an early deer season this year, for some reason. It being Oct. 1st, the weather is predictably unpredictable. Dawn was windy and chilly, without being cold. I started out at Majestic, in the stand where I shot a nice buck opening day of gun last year. Between the wind and thick foliage, just turning orange, it was an unproductive morning. I only made it until 9am, before climbing down without seeing a deer. I may go on and on about the zen beauty of sitting in a tree and taking in the nothingness of the landscape.... but not on opening day. I crave action.
   So I went back to the shack, had another cup of coffee and plotted the afternoon. For some reason small aggressive flies have infested my place. I miss as many as I hit with the swatter. If I'm this bad with the bow I'm in for a rough season. TCM and some prints I've been working on, given to me by elder Caki, keep me busy until 4:00pm. The print images came in the form of a scrapbook kept by one disturbed individual. The book contained an amalgamation of baby, little boy and girl (with and without mom and dad) images, cut from newspapers and magazines from 1950 to 1954. At first all was well in the family scrap book unit. Then murder, kidnapping, dental work and bondage appear. Never are you exposed to anything overtly sexual, yet there's a strong undercurrent pulling you into the depths of a very dark, disturbed mind. I carefully deconstructed the scrap book then blew them up to 3'X4' at the local STAPLES. The women at the copy center are becoming a bit unnerved when they see me coming.
    At 4:00 pm I go down to GNJohn's to sit out the rest of the afternoon in the orchard stand. This is an off year for apples. I can see deer on the edge of the swamp and over in Gilkey's field grazing, but nothing comes in close. Just past shooting light I walk back to the car I've parked in the field. Pigpen Rothman had mown me a path to my stand, making life much easier for me. Big shout-out to PP. On the way out of the field I catch sight of two deer in my headlights. One is a buck. I can't tell how big he is, but I can see he's probably a six. I have to hurry home, change my clothes and drive to Jeff., for dinner with supermodel Hollie Witchey. I inherited 3/4 of a bottle of vodka from my parent's bar. I bring that along. We then proceed to tie one on.
    The next day is pouring rain and I'm so hungover I can barely raise my head, let alone sit in a tree. I crash on my couch. More TCM and battles with the flies, that now seem to be multiplying. It takes me until dark just to get human again. I check my email and there's one from Mystery Girl. She wants to know if she can shoot Hollie at my house for a magazine spread. Supermodels doing a nekid photo-shoot in my kitchen or hunt in the rain? Luckily my vodka ravaged mind is clearing to the degree that I make the right decision.
   So that's as far as I've gotten. Horst, Mystery Girl's grip and chauffeur, is checking emails in the gallery, the girls are working feverishly in the kitchen, Rocco (Hollie's pitbull) is tangled up in my lawn furniture and crapping all over my deck as I'm writing this just to look busy. It's gotten warm and foggy- not good for deer movement. I think I'll go back to the orchard stand and sit out the afternoon. That seems to be the best spot to score on an early deer. My luck seems to be holding so far.

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