Killing two birds with one stone
Bird one: I went hunting with my dad and have the pictures to prove it.
Bird two: my cousin Jenine challenged me to start posting here again. the email was gentle, but the message was clear - "get off your blogging butt, I dare you".
A few weeks ago I spent a Saturday afternoon with my dad at the farm hanging up signs. It was a warm day, and really pleasant driving around with dad, hearing stories of the farm and our family that lived there. It was easy to imagine all the Mitchell's and McFarlane's that had lived in the area. Driving through the prairie grasses, I thought about how many times my Grandpa Mitchell had been in the exact same places. I wondered how different it had looked when my Great-Grandma Annie (who had maybe one of the best nicknames ever - Annie Mac) lived there.
So when dad asked me if I wanted to join him pheasant hunting, my mind was caught up in stories of hardy women living on the prairie, and I said I would. Then immediately wondered if I could do it.
Sure, the lady who issued me the hunting license laughed and said good luck when she handed it to me. Yes, my dad outfitted me in plenty of gear, including a pair of particularly stiff pants. But I went anyway, and had a pretty good time.
For a few hours, we walked through knee deep prairie grasses (where I quickly learned to walk with the grain) and around the edges of cattail-filled swamps. We watched the dogs work the field as they searched for birds. Each dog caught a bird in their mouth, and dad's friend shot two more. I didn't take a shot, but didn't miss taking one either.
I didn't do anything stupid or embarrassing. I kept up with the guys. And I agreed to go again.
Bird two: my cousin Jenine challenged me to start posting here again. the email was gentle, but the message was clear - "get off your blogging butt, I dare you".
A few weeks ago I spent a Saturday afternoon with my dad at the farm hanging up signs. It was a warm day, and really pleasant driving around with dad, hearing stories of the farm and our family that lived there. It was easy to imagine all the Mitchell's and McFarlane's that had lived in the area. Driving through the prairie grasses, I thought about how many times my Grandpa Mitchell had been in the exact same places. I wondered how different it had looked when my Great-Grandma Annie (who had maybe one of the best nicknames ever - Annie Mac) lived there.
So when dad asked me if I wanted to join him pheasant hunting, my mind was caught up in stories of hardy women living on the prairie, and I said I would. Then immediately wondered if I could do it.
Sure, the lady who issued me the hunting license laughed and said good luck when she handed it to me. Yes, my dad outfitted me in plenty of gear, including a pair of particularly stiff pants. But I went anyway, and had a pretty good time.
For a few hours, we walked through knee deep prairie grasses (where I quickly learned to walk with the grain) and around the edges of cattail-filled swamps. We watched the dogs work the field as they searched for birds. Each dog caught a bird in their mouth, and dad's friend shot two more. I didn't take a shot, but didn't miss taking one either.
I didn't do anything stupid or embarrassing. I kept up with the guys. And I agreed to go again.
I enjoyed having you help with posting of the no hunting signs and joining in the actual hunt was great.
One correction. Bob's dog Tanner, caught a wild rooster. The dogs, Tanner and Maggie found and retrieved the other 3 birds.
You did make a real fashion statement while hunting.
I'm looking forward to the next hunt.
Dad
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Jen,
I'm waiting for comments from your lady friends and perhaps requests to be included in the next hunting trip
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Jen,
I couldn't resist the taunt from your dad to comment. You look great in the stiff pants and orange isn't a bad color for you. Deer hunting is just around the corner are you ready? You look very natural with the gun, maybe conceal and carry is in your future too. What a great way to spend time with your dad. Thanks for sharing.
Lisa
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Yeah, Your back!!!! I'm so glad you were challenged to start posting again! Being so far away it's my little window into your world.
I am impressed you spent the day hunting with your dad, what a great way to spend a beautiful fall day. I would totally be up for that as long as I didn't have to shoot the gun or eat any of the birds
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Meggie,
Hunting without a gun is called hiking. You are welcome to hike with us, anytime.
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You hardy prairie woman, you.
Very impressed that you a) posted to the blog (yea!) and b) went hunting. for real. you aren't going to surprise me one more time and vote republican, are you?
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I find it compelling that the statement just under Sevda's question about voting Republican is :Submitted comments will be subject to oderation before being displayed."
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