For Thanksgiving, we traipsed thru the woods to Grandma’s farm (a poetic way of saying we drove 8 hours in crazy traffic in a minivan that smelled like tween feet and oranges). I love fall and winter at the farm. It’s cold and crisp on the outside and cozy on the inside with food that brings back memories of childhood.
Plus, it’s just plain beautiful:
I’m a city girl, but I love a dab of farm life. I love picking pecans from under enormous trees with my family (my husband comes from a long line of gatherers), cracking them for snacks and fresh pecan pies. I love that while vaccinating the bull in the pasture, my father-in-law catches my kids up on their shots.
Ha. Totally kidding about that. We just keep them in here for fun.
My husband and I got up with the sun Thanksgiving morning and hiked down to one of his parent’s ponds. We spooked a flock of Canadian geese and they skid across the still water and made their V formation in the sky above us. We walked to another pond and saw a gorgeous bald eagle swoop and scatter a flock of mallards.
“You know I’m going to have to bring him down here to hunt,” my husband said of our 10-year-old son.
We talked about our boy’s Christmas list. There are 3 things on it:
1. A pocketknife
2. A rifle
3. A compound bow
And we laughed again at our son’s statement: “Dad, I just want to kill something.”
I’ve never been or had a 10 year-old-boy before and I’m a little afraid. This is normal right? He’s sort of got a one-track mind right now.
Duck Dynasty marathons are not helping.
So, the boys headed down to the pond and did whatever hunters do. They came back chilled to the bone and empty-handed.
But not if you asked my son…..”Mom, I got so close to killing a duck today!”
His dad gave me a knowing smile across the room and I said, “Why because you had a gun in your hand and there were birds in the air?”
“Yes,” he said, starry-eyed.
He’s got it bad.
My husband grew up hunting and can’t wait to give his son his first rifle. I’ve been saying he’s not old enough yet.
Then he found this photo of his daddy (my husband) at Grandma’s house:
I need a new excuse.
Guess who’s enrolled in Hunter Safety Classes this weekend?
The neighborhood deer don’t stand a chance. ‘Tis the [hunting] season.
How was your Thanksgiving?
Don’t forget about this.