Hunting Season Was a Bust

I went out early yesterday morning for the 3rd morning in a row, looking for deer.  After an hour of sitting in the tree house, with no deer coming to me, I decided to go out looking for them.  I walked the circuit of our property, wearing my proper percentage of blaze orange and carrying my rifle.  I looked pretty tough (tee hee.) 

Movement in the woods on 3 separate occasions turned out to be:  squirrel, squirrel, and Lizzie the cat.

I went out more times this deer season than ever before, and even so the season ended up looking about like JP's tree stand.

Pathetic

My friend and I spent a couple of silent hours up in that tree stand a few years back, until the sound of the trickling spring below made us have to pee so badly that we hurried back up the hill to home in the deepening dusk.  She was kind enough to embellish our sighting of Ernie the cat into me bagging a big buck in her newspaper column anyway.

It's the closest I ever came to becoming the "great white hunter", although I have had the opportunity to field dress my Dad's deer a couple of years ago.  It's the vicarious experience that counts, right?

Now we are off to a Memorial Service for the wife of a friend, and then on to L's Christmas Piano Recital (for which she is not ready) - opposite ends of the spectrum.  How does one dress for this line up of activities?

The girls have one more week of school before their extended Christmas Break begins.  We have been listening to Handel's Messiah in preparation - HALLELUJAH!