Just call me ‘the grouse flusher’

“For dose dat don’t know much about the Superior State, dere’s a couple of tings that need to be explained. First ting is, in da U.P., we don’t explain tings. Second ting is, we got some of the best huntin’ and fishin’ in da whole world.”

When I first started dating my boyfriend, I was SUPER excited that he hunted.  No more paying exorbitant prices at the grocery store just to get some high-quality meat for my dinner!  I don’t eat meat every day, but I’ve been eating it more and more since Tim and I started dating (almost a year ago now!).  But geez, the local meat that I buy goes anywhere from $7-8/lb to $14/lb!  So, I had wonderful visions in my head of him bringin’ home the bacon (“Put on the lard and onions baby, I’m gonna gut you a buck!”) to be cooked into a delicious stew or meat pie.

However, in all my excitement at the prospect of meat that was hunted for, I didn’t really consider what goes into it….it actually needs to be hunted for.  Tim could be out there all day long and not come home with a damned thing except for an incoming cold and a voracious appetite that all the most delicious vegetarian recipes in the world couldn’t satiate.

I also didn’t expect the implications of going hunting with Tim, which I did for the first time last Sunday- “Oh hey honey, would you mind just goin’ along that ridge of trees and seeing if you can flush out a grouse?”  Sure thing babe, should I go on point when I’ve found something?  And perhaps bay if I tree a coon?    In addition, we kept hearing lots of gunfire off in the distance.  Did they call all the grouse their way?  Were they some sort of pied pipers, singing a magic song to capture all the game?  We didn’t get a single shot off. Must have picked the wrong spot… Really though, it was a fantastic time.  There’s something about being out in the woods, getting brambles and twigs caught on clothes and hair and getting covered with muck, that brings out your inner wild child.

And I can’t wait for the day he actually brings home a buck.  There are a few things I’m not sure I would be too enthusiastic about…raccoon or possum being two of them.  Basically, anything that wouldn’t hesitate to eat trash.  You are what you eat after all.  And if a raccoon eats our trash, and we eat the raccoon, would that make us secondhand trash??

And, who knows, maybe one day I’ll even be the one bringing home a deer…Since the last time I shot anything (a bird, with a bb gun) I cried for a week, I’m not sure I’ll be hunting anytime soon.

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About aletalane

I am a learner.
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