I love to deer hunt. Bowhunt, muzzleloader, rifle, stick, rock, handful of mud...anytime, anywhere, any method. I'm a deer hunting junkie. But as fate would have it, I'm a deer hunting junkie in "recovery". By recovery I mean being married with 2 kids and a full-time STRESSFUL job. You see, before the aforementioned factors were a part of my life I used to hunt the crap out of deer. Pretty much from mid-September to early January you wouldn't find my sorry ass anywhere but in the woods. And lovin' it. Responsibilities? Job? Class? Hell or high water? Inconsequential. Irrelevant. Now, gettin' a lead on a nice lookin' fat-necked 10-point bruiser? Gone. Don't call. See you after dark.
My new found "hunting sobriety" has taught me a lot, though. You can't always do whatcha wanna do and the things you thought you wanted to do don't seem to matter so much anymore. I'll admit that at first it was a hard-sell...but I've "come around to Mamma's way of thinking". But hear this...I'll never pass up an opportunity to squeeze in a "quickie" every now and then (a quickie HUNT that is).
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