Stonewalled by my intellectual inabilities, I reached out to followers of The 4 Pointer on Facebook for ideas to write about. As a disincentive to participate, I offered a signed copy of a trail camera selfie of yours truly as a prize for the idea that kick started my brain. The first few comments had a serious tone or at least were topics that would require some research. As Sweet Brown would say, “Ain’t nobody got time for that!” I will admit that they were fantastic ideas, and should I find the time to sit down and write at some point I have no doubt I will take up a few of the topics.
I have yet to find a good explanation for why the month of January exists. Everyone is on edge. Deer season is over, cold weather has set in, and our esteemed state legislators that seem hell-bent on taking away more rights and increasing restrictions are back on the job. It sure would be nice if they had the opposite goal. Seriously, who wakes up in the morning and says to themselves, “What burdensome law can I come up with today?” And why does it have to be cold?! AND WHY DID DEER SEASON HAVE TO END?!?!?!
Forgive me for the outburst. It’s been rough around here lately.
If there was one way to describe Rayna the best, it would be that her presence was always felt. If I was clearing snow from the driveway, she was there catching it as it shot from the snow blower. If I was mowing the lawn, she would drop a rock right in my path and force me to stop the mower. If Steph and I tried to watch a movie, she would sit in front of the TV and block our view. If I forgot to latch the bathroom door while doing my business, she would push her way in and expect a good head scratching while I was unavoidably detained. If she’d been able to talk, she’d have been an introvert’s nightmare.
My increase in concern over how much time I’ll have to hunt this fall is inversely related to the decrease in time until Baby Biebel arrives. My concern hit an all-time high this past weekend when I made my first scouting trip of the season. It’s hard to adequately describe the feelings of anticipation that I feel when standing over a pile of deer poop in an acorn infested stand of oaks. Knowing Mr. Big roams through this area, even if at night, is enough to get my heart rate up. That, and the mile-long hike to get there.
To make amends with their favorite customer, my least favorite cable provider gave me an additional forty channels for free after months of poor service complaints. Included in the additional package were the Outdoor Channel and Sportsman Channel. So much for my New Year resolution to watch less TV.
Having only been marginally exposed to what these channels offer for programming in the past, I have been somewhat disappointed at what I’ve seen. The commercialization of hunting has always irked me a little. If they hadn’t had that $300 cooler back in the truck, would they have not been able to shoot the big buck that was on a daily ritual of arriving at the food plot each evening at five? What about that expensive little device that purifies the air around your deer stand? According to show hosts, you can’t hunt without that or you’re not doing it right. Tell that to the chain smoking, flannel jacket clad hunters posing in the pile of old pictures I have in my files. They might disagree.