Fuck the Pie! NO THANKS Giving

 First the report: These days we hunters stay in touch nightly, like a bunch of old women on the Bridge Club hotline. #1 Bird – he’s seeing does and small bucks- no shooters. He’s also decided not to take a doe until muzzle. #2 Savage – he’s ready to take a doe and is only seeing bucks. A seven, a four and a nice eight are all running around behind his house. He has had them all close enough for a bow shot. Attempting to stay COMPLETELY legal in his old age, he has resisted what he calls “the Devil” as the bucks prance around below his stand. Good luck with your demons Savage. I have no such burdens. #3 PGeorge – PG is not in the party line phone circle. Instead, he sends me photos and updates through email (see above) that I pass on. PGeorge has tagged out with another slammer. Hunting is not a competitive sport, yet…….PGeorge’s emails always make us feel like we have to step up and serve to get us back in the tree. It’s getting harder and harder to keep up with this guy. As for me, I’ve been out in the snow and rain. I’ve had action, but only seeing does and small bucks. Last night I had two identical four pointers right under my stand and passed on a big doe. As I write this, we are 45 mins. from sunrise. Today I’m ready to shoot a good doe if I get a shot. I’ll be back………

 

Just to backtrack a bit. Thanksgiving found Shewho without electricity again, and communications spotty on what we had planned for the day. When we finally connected it was decided that she come my way for venison and I continue to hunt. It’s not like Shewho and I never argue, but arguments never last. I wanted her to bring the fixings for apple pie to my place and cook it here. She countered that that was too much work in the transport. Her suggestion was to prepare the pie and bring it uncooked. The issue was daylight. Neither she nor I like to drive at night. The argument was burning daylight. Finally, she said “Fuck the pie!” Ahhhhhhhhhh…simple. I agreed. Kiss - Kiss and done. We had NO THANKS giving with store bought pie, heated up in the microwave. Perfection! I saw nothing this morning.  I will finish this posting after the afternoon hunt. Sit tight.

 

I’m back. It’s Monday morning. I spent seven hours in the stand  on Saturday and saw nothing. Saturday night found Shewho and I at the Dale with the gang. I made the mistake of leaving my truck at Majestic and catching a ride to the bar. By midnight the drugs were wearing off and I wanted to go home. “I WANNA GO HOOOOOME.” I whined. Shewho was having a great time. By 2 am I was an angry, depressed mess. Forget the afterparty with Shewho or Sunday hunt. All I could do was lick my wounds. I pride myself in being able to hang with the best of ‘em. This was a wake-up call. Guess I found my limits. Ugh.