Wednesday, 7 November 2012

The Hunt

The air is crisp, the leaves have fallen and a few snowflakes are floating about.  It's that time of year again.  Time for the hunt.

I grew up with deer heads, antlers of all sorts, even fish mounted on the walls.  For my Dad and three brothers the hunt was a BIG still is.  That was back in the day when women and small children didn't really participate in the hunt.  I was fine with that.  I never wanted to shoot a living animal anyway.  But shooting at tin cans and targets....that was fun!  I always enjoyed target practise and watching them do the skeet shooting.

Times have changed.  The hunt has been embraced.  It's now a cultural experience that we don't want to loose.  Women and children are now welcome in most of the camps.

I have no problem with the hunt.  The meat is not's eaten.  But I'm not going to eat it.  I can't stand the taste of venison.  There were countless nights that I would eat the potatoes and not the meat.  Then my Mom started to feel bad for me and she would cook me a piece of chicken.  She knew I couldn't stand to swallow it.  It just left such an awful taste in my mouth.

So when I met Terry and realized that he didn't really care for the hunt I thought...GREAT!!  I won't have to cook any venison....and I haven't!  But he does go up to the camp for an evening to socialize with the guys.  Some of these guys he only sees once a year.

Then he started taking the kids with him to the hunt camp.  They became hooked on the hunt.  Now Johanna, Grady and Jack look forward to the hunt just like my brothers used too.  The guys at the camp love to see them coming.  This year they gave them gifts of new jack knives, sling shots and bright orange hats with "The Ruby Hilton Hunt Camp" imprinted on them. 

When they come home I love to hear of their hunting stories....but it always seems to be about the food. The guy who sat in the tree stand and ate a whole blueberry pie.  The homemade bean and ham soup that they ate....they said that I NEED to get that recipe.  The guy that spilled the box of dry spaghetti all over the floor before it went into the pot and then they all helped to pick it up....and throw it out. 

They have so many good memories.

I needed to call the high school and let them know that Johanna would be absent for the day.  The secretary asked if she was sick or if she was hunting.  I'm so glad that she is able to attend a good, country school.  When she returned to school the next day she said that she hadn't missed anything....most things are 'on hold' during the hunt.  That's the Ottawa Valley way.



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