#deerseason and My Time Spent #fishing

     When the Hubby and I were dating (and I was still trying to "land" him), I accompanied him while he was hunting. It was shortly after our first hunting expedition that I learned that he and I have drastically different ideas about hunting. Later I learned that our differences included our fishing styles too.
     The first time I went deer hunting with the Boyfriend (currently-known-as-the-Hubby) he took me to his favorite place on Earth and for a man who's been just about everywhere, (No kidding. Name a location and he's probably been there.) that's saying something. Just like the Hubby, it isn't the most glamorous place in the world. It's a hay field  on a hilltop, overlooking a small creek (pronounced crick for those of you not from the Mid-West). His family has placed a deer blind, consisting of three round hay bales, in a circle on the highest ridge.You can crawl in the midst of them and you've a warm, cozy, little nest out of the wind and with some protection from the rain. You can see for miles and the view is really lovely at daybreak and sunset.
     It was here that the Boyfriend made one of the most amazing shots I've ever seen and it was here that he described the land, naming all of the family named locations, telling the story of his family. It was in the haystacks that I learned about who he really was. The haystacks are now one of my favorite places too but at the time I remember being ever so slightly annoyed.



     You see I had just spent a very nerve-wracking weekend meeting (the future) in-laws trying desperately to make a good impression and the last thing I really wanted to do with my new Boyfriend was sit in a cold, damp haystack looking for deer. And frankly, I was a little hurt that that's ALL he wanted to do! I mean, HELLLOO we were ALONE in a haystack for Christ's sake. It was then I knew that if we were going to make this relationship work, then concessions would have to be made. 
     Muzzle loading season in Missouri is looming on the horizon. Which means the Hubby is obsessed with everything related to deer season. Every time I enter a room the Hubby and the children are huddled together discussing what to do if they see a deer/mountain lion/bear/skunk/hippo. (The children are very concerned about the rising wild hippo population in Missouri.) Either that or discussing what they are going to wear--it's like being married to a camo obsessed woman right now.
"Honey, do you know where my favorite flannel button down is? No, not that one! The Mossy Oak one. No the MOSSY OAK pattern. Mossy Oak, not Real Tree. Yes, there's a difference! 
*sigh* What's a wife to do?
     After we were married, I learned that "fishing" would take on a whole new meaning too. To me (and every "normal" person) fishing meant a cooler of beer, a lawn chair and a few relaxing hours spent casting. To the Hubby it meant trying to catch--FISH. He quickly became "annoyed" by my constant casting and chatter.
"How do you ever expect to catch anything if you keep scaring the fish away with all that noise and and constant splashing?!?"
     Over the years, I haven't been hunting much (read, not at all) and fishing has gone by the wayside too. I do kind of miss it. The fishing more than the hunting. But now we both have other priorities; we are teaching a new generation of hunters and fishermen*. But I do seriously hope that when the time comes for my adult children to bring a future spouse into that hay field they will realize that spending time with the person they love is often times more important than the damn deer.

Peace Out!
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*I am using the word fishermen but including my daughter. Both men and women hunt and fish in this family.
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