This week is gun season for the deer hunters.
My husband is a deer hunter. I will leave it at that.
I asked him if he realized that the text he sent me this week, and then this photo, while he was hunting, was giving me blog material. He wasn't thrilled because he thought I would rip on him for his lack of *ahem*, deer caught! (Note: I realize the proper term is 'killed', not 'caught', but I like the word 'caught' better! And it drives him nuts)
Anyways, on Monday, while he was hiding in a bush somewhere, I text him a 'well check'. This means I want a response to know if he is alive. You know those hunters - no matter if you are in a blinding orange vest, this is why my horses have to stay inside all week. So, this was the preceeding conversation we had via text:
Allen: Seen big 8 150yrd
Me: Well get it!!!
Allen: Well it went in the pines
Me: Story of your life
So then, a few hours later, I sent another 'well check' text and received the above photo in response.
The sad part of all this is when I get a text such as Seen big 8 150yrd and I KNOW what that means! And I have committed to cooking with the venison if he brings any home - now that's a wife, right!
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