Yesterday was the first day of "deer season". For the next 9 days, the woods will be alive with hunters, trying their best to shoot a deer. My husband loves this time of year. His only regret is that, I do not like to hunt. He would give anything if I did, but I don't. For years he made me go with him at least once a season. Once was usually enough, for both of us!!!
I am not a hunter. If we were starving I could kill a deer, field dress it and have no qualms. But we are not starving and I don't want to hunt. That is not my idea of fun.
The first time we went hunting was about 25 years ago. We had scouted the place out. My tree had been picked where I was supposed to shoot a 10 pointer. Right!!! My gun was spot on, no chance of me missing. Right!!!! All I needed was a good deer stand.
I told Tommy what I wanted and he said "No problem". He would make sure it was safe, not too high up in the tree and had a railing around it so I wouldn't fall out. That isn't a lot to ask and I felt sure everything would be fine. I should have checked out the deer stand before opening day. My idea of "safe" and his are two completely different versions of reality!!
My idea of a deer stand is what Tommy calls a "penthouse". It has a floor, railings and a seat---that's it. So why was I so surprised on opening day when I go to my stand and see where I am supposed to spend the next week? Tommy told me that I would "love" my stand, not to worry that he had it fixed perfect. I should have had him define "perfect" a little better.
We get there before daylight. All the while he is telling me again what to do if I get a shot at a deer. I am dressed in his camo and wearing a pair of his boots that are a couple sizes too big. I am anything but quiet as we walk through the woods.
When I first see the stand, I can't see it at all----it is that high up in the tree. Tommy has hammered spikes in the tree for me to climb on to reach my stand. They are about 2 feet apart until the last one and it is at least 3 feet to the stand. I don't want to climb this tree. However, somewhere between the truck and the tree, I lost my right to protest. According to Tommy, I was climbing the tree and I would like my deer stand and I would get a deer. Well alrighty then......we shall see!!!
As I am climbing the tree, Tommy is waiting down below to make sure I make it and to hand me my gun. I get to the last spike and can't reach the deer stand!!! I am afraid to move. I have all the clothes on in the world, and I can't get my leg up 3 feet to the last branch where the stand rests. I need another spike. That is when Tommy informs me "there are no more spikes. He has used them all and ran out before he got through". I knew then we were not going to have any sort "of bonding experience".
Tommy keeps telling me to "Move" and I stay silently still right where I stopped. Finally he comes up the tree and starts pushing on my butt to make me go up the tree. So I moved!! It was either that or get pushed out of the tree!!!
Finally, I get up to the stand only to balk again. Somewhere there had been a huge communication gap in what a "penthouse" deer stand resembled and what Tommy actually built. And I use the word "built" very loosely. Tommy's idea was, one board placed across two tree limbs with a white bucket to sit on and a 2 x4 nailed in front for me to place my rifle on. That was my "penthouse"!!!
I wanted to go home but knew better than mention that little point. Tommy hands me my rifle and tells me to have a" good time." His parting words were, "Don't move around too much, that bucket isn't attached to anything and it might slip on you."
Move??? are you serious, I am riveted to that plastic bucket!! My parting words to him that day were "F... You!!!!" And I meant them from the bottom of my deer stand!!
For 4 hours I sat on my bucket and thought of all sorts of ways to get even with Tommy. Before noon, I hear a gunshot coming from Tommy's area. About an hour later he comes over--beaming. He shot an 8 pointer and we are going to drag the deer out to the truck.
I was excited for him. All I had to do was get down out of the tree!!! It wasn't pretty---it wasn't graceful but I did it. I was once again on terra firma and for that I was thankful.
We drug the deer to the truck and soon we were home, drinking coffee and telling lies. He was
proud of me for going. I was proud of him for getting his deer and was thanking God I was in a warm home again.
About this time he utters words that still send chills down my spine. "After lunch, we will go back and get you a deer. Just think we can hunt until almost dark!!!" Sh*!*!*!!!
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