Deer or No Deer

Every year we go up to the Parishville farmhouse in the fall for a "work weekend," which doesn't usually seem to involve much work, but funily enough, always seems to fall on the first weekend of musket season for deer. The guys all wake up at an ungodly early hour, slurp down some instant oatmeal, put on all the camo clothes they can find, and trudge out in total blackness to the back meadow to wait for the unlucky ungulates to arrive. By the time they arrive back at the farmhouse, damp and cold (and generally deerless, sorry guys) Mom and I have hopefully cooked up some experimental breakfast chow in our outdoor dutch oven. Over the years, we've found that it doesn't have to taste all that good or even look appetizing, it just has to be warm and there must be A LOT of it.

Sausage-Egg-Surprise!

Although we constantly tease them about the lack of venision each year, I really can't critcize the guys for the real effort they put into hunting every musket season. They generally see plenty of deer but are conscientious enough that they only want to shoot a deer if it's a very good, clean shot, which is a rare thing. Especially when you are using black-powder muskets... it took them about 2 hours to clean and load the guns, so I'm guessing re-loading in the field is no picnic. Anyway, since there usually isn't a whole lot (any) time and energy spent on deer gutting, hauling, butchering, etc., there is always time for other fun activities, like hiking and fishing and visiting the giant used bookstore in Parishville.





This year we hiked out to the small waterfalls on Barton Brook behind the back meadow to do a little trout fishing. I was impressed that we were able to get about 8 small brown trout to fry up for lunch, since the dogs were constantly in and out of the water chasing the fishing lines.

Aiden didn't get to go hunting with his da-doo, but he did get to do some other naughty things, like feeding Timber and Sable everything on his plate, and gnawing on grandpa's chewing tobacco canister. Although he took a few steps on his own this week, he's still not walking by himself yet. He loves to walk if he has two fingers to hold onto, and even sometimes when you're just holding one of his hands... he's definitely getting the hang of it, slowly but surely. Lately he has been totally obsessed with colorful leaves. Once he finds two he likes (only red-ish ones, please!), he clutches one stem in each hand and will hold them like that for hours. Literally.

It's harder to walk when I'm clutching my favorite leaves!



Still got my leaves....

Still got 'em...