I tagged along with my husband and his friend this morning in search of the elusive bull elk. There was no warm up period, no leisurely walk in the crisp morning air. We went straight up, straight away! And these guys were power walking with 3 foot strides in comparison to my 1½ foot stride. After a while they would realize that I had fallen behind and they would wait. Then, as soon as I would catch up with them, huffing and puffing like an asthmatic, they would take off again before I could even catch my breath.
The guys would whisper up ahead of me, making plans and pointing up. They would never share their conversation and plans with me. I think they were afraid I would protest too loudly. They were, of course, correct because there is no quiet way to say 'Hell NO!' Was it just me or was it uphill all the way, both ways? I really hate 'up'.
Our friend is funny. He has an alarm on his wristwatch. Every hour on the hour it beeps. Every hour on the hour the deer and elk knew exactly where we were. I'm sure they appreciated it.
My husband got caught without toilet paper again. Oh, he packed it this morning, but left it in the truck. He asked me if I had it. Well, no, he packed it, not me. He asked me if I had the pack of tissue I gave him last week. Well, no, I gave that to him last weekend. I ended up giving him a bandana to shred. Will he ever learn? Nah, probably not.
Ugh, chola! I hate chola. I've created a new game. Its called 'chola limbo', except there is no bar to shimmie under. In this version the object of the game is to see who can get the closest to a chola cactus without being stuck. I lost every single time. I really REALLY hate chola!
One more day left for archery. For my friend's sake I hope he doesn't walk up on a big bull or buck right on the hour. Beep beep!
You get up in the morning, o'dark hundred, and dress in your Real Tree Mossy Oak Advantage jeans and turtleneck. Its fall turkey season and you're ready. You want to be able to blend into your surroundings like a ghost. You drive out to the field where the roost tree stands. But before walking out to find a good spot to set up, you don your vest and hat. A short hike and you are smack dab in the middle of turkey territory. The woods are just beginning to wake up and you are almost twitchy with anticipation. Slowly, almost teasingly, the sun rises and bathes the woodlands with its warm glow. You are motionless, you are one with the woods.
My husband went hunting this morning. He had the day off and instead of spending it with me, taking me around to get some pictures... he went out to buddy up with a friend who had a spring turkey tag. I have been itching to get 'downrange' for some shots, and when it finally opens up and he has the day off.... he goes out with a friend instead. Whats up with that?
My husband went to Cabelas 
Its been ages since I have been out in the woods and even though I was sick, I jumped at the opportunity to take a drive down-range with Steve. We didn't have passes so we could only go so far, but that was fine with me, I needed to get out. Once we got as far as we could drive, we got out to walk in. Steve suggested that we take the road rather than to try hiking up the hill since I was still feeling the effects of the bug that had hit me during the week. That was fine with me, I learned long ago to dread the mention of the word 'UP'. It was a bad word in my book. So we hiked along the road, crunching in the snow and ice. The sun was warm, it was a beautiful New Year's day. But then it happened, we ran out of road, and it was either go 'UP' or go back. Steve suggested that we cut around to get 'HIGHER' so we could see better. I wasn't ready to go back so I agreed. We were half way up the cliff before I realized that 'HIGHER' was just another word for 'UP'. Steve had tricked me!
So anyhow we're hiking up a hillside covered with snow, which is a good thing because had I known what was under the snow I would never have attempted to scale the mountain. It was loose shale and cactus! And what wasn't covered with snow covered shale and cactus was covered with scrub-oak, which Steve pushed through and managed to hit me with the backlash every time. I swear he was trying to hit me. 
Finally I made the decision to pull out my tissue. There is no camoflauge tissue... I was stuck with pure white that flashed like a flag in the woods, and I blew! And the unthinkable happened... I ran out of room on the tissue! I would have to get another one. But what to do with the used one, now filled with phlegm? I rolled it gently into a little package, careful not to crush it and cause seepage... and I placed it in my jacket pocket. I did the same with the second, and then the third tissue. I think that I must surely be allergic to elk because it never failed, every time we sneaked up on one, my nose would start running and it takes every ounce of will power not to suck it in and give away our presence.