Trent took the boys up north for a few days so they could start working on their deer blind for the youth hunt. Deer blind. Youth hunt. These are words that I never imagined would be in the vocabulary of my family on a regular basis, but they are. My boys want to hunt. They can't wait to shoot their first deer. Ugh.
Don't get me wrong - I am not against hunting - I just don't know much about it. My family has quite a few hunters in it, but my Dad never hunted so I never witnessed it that closely. Trent's family - his grandfathers, dad and brothers were and still are huge hunters. Trent has gone with them on their hunting trips, but he had never shot a deer in his life. Most of his time in the deer blind was spent with his nose in a book not scouring the woods for signs of movement.
I don't want to discourage my boys from things they might really enjoy, but I am kind of skeptical and nervous about this. My biggest fear is that they are going to be traumatized when they realize they actually killed something. Something big. That they are the reason one of God's creatures is no longer alive. I am trying to talk Trent into starting them off hunting birds. I kind of hate birds - always have. The thought of birds as pets is especially creepy to me. Don't even get me started on birds that talk. Shudder. Not that it is alright to kill something you hate. That is not the message I am trying to instill - birds are just less human like or something. So my number one fear is post kill trauma. My second fear is that they will really like it and I will be forced to start displaying mounted deer heads and racks in my home. Double UGH.
So who knows. We may have a freezer full of venison this winter. Too bad no one but Trent and Evan will eat it. Then again, I used to hate ground turkey with every ounce of my being and now that is pretty much the only ground meat we eat. Maybe venison tacos will soon be a meal staple.
It is pretty ironic that I left this blog and clicked over to Dooce.com and this was her post of the day.
These animal heads I could handle, but the real ones? Don't even get me started on the fur and the dusty fur...Maybe my boys are right on the edge of the new trend in home decorating!
Day to day musings about my life as a mother of three kids. Spencer, my oldest is fourteen. Evan, my second son and middle child is twelve. My little girl, Hailey is nine years old. I started this blog shortly after my oldest turned six and the other two were "under" - hence the name.
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Life Machine - this is a machine that takes your life & does all the hard parts & leaves you all the parts you enjoy & almost everyone discovers they're not the parts you'd think they were at first glance
The most important thing she'd learned over the years was that there was no way to be a perfect mother and a million ways to be a good one.
i carry your heart with me ( i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear...)
We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
-Kent Nerburn (excerpt from The Cab Ride I'll Never Forget)