The Deer Hunter

Well, here I am, snugly ensconced in a hotel room in French Lick, Indiana after three blissful days of solitude in our little cabin in the woods, sans cell phone or internet reception.

The cabin itself was nice, if small, but perfect for us.  I had a bad moment when we got there and I saw that the fridge needed to be wiped out, the bathtub needed to be cleaned and the plastic dish drainer (there was no dishwasher) needed to be taken out back and burned – I’m sorry, it didn’t look like it had EVER been cleaned and was truly disgusting.  Beloved found that the grill out back next to what turned out to be a very comfortable hammock had been similarly neglected and took to scrubbing it, as well as the grubby utensils, while I took care of the inside.

And as usual, he had a much more humorous approach to it all than I did.

“You know, 25 years ago, this wouldn’t have bothered us at all.”


I guess I’m just getting old.

We spent Friday morning hiking about Hocking Hills State Park, which I’ll post about in more detail on Thursday, and the rest of the time napping, watching movies, listening to the rain and hunting deer.

You see, Friday morning Beloved had to go into the nearby town for a bit and when he came back he was all excited to report that he’d seen tons of deer on the drive out to the highway. So several times, mostly in the evening, we’d climb in the car and drive slowly around the little winding, back roads looking for the critters, armed with the new camera and zoom lens.  And, naturally, because we had taken the appropriate lens, we only found them once, on the edge of a clearing leading into the forest, where they were tough to get a picture of.

Mama Deer and Baby Deer

Mama Deer and Baby Deer

Of course, the day we packed up and left I had the wrong lens on the camera, so they came out and stood around everywhere, thumbing their cute little black noses and laughing at me.  This little guy even let me get out of the car and approach him a bit before running off.



Fawn Running Away

Fawn Running Away

Maybe there’s something to this whole deer hunting season thing after all.  I’ve heard that venison can be quite tasty if prepared properly and the thought of eating a nice Filet of Bambi’s Mom is a bit more appealing than it used to be.

16 thoughts on “The Deer Hunter”

  1. I also want to know why we get more persnickety as we age? I’d have been cleaning the darn fridge too.

    At least with a camera, even with the wrong lens, you don’t have to drag Bambi and family out of the woods after you’ve shot them, tie them to your roof and drive around town wondering if you’ve got the biggest buck.
    .-= Tricia´s last blog ..Blogging is Like Sex =-.

  2. When we lived in New Jersey we had a whole HERD of deer graze through our yard most summer evenings. I was mowing the yard one day and flushed a 2 point buck out of some trees. He was a brave bugger. He jumped out in front of my riding mower, stomped his feet and snorted at me! I shut the mower off just so I could sit & look at him; he wasn’t 20 feet away. As soon as I stood up to get off the mower he high tailed it for the creek & tree line.
    .-= LindaP´s last blog ..The Competition was Close =-.

  3. I swear, I totally expected a picture of “Fawn flipping me off”. Once I had seen a deer on the side of the road and stopped the car to get a picture. The damn thing took off and then got to the edge of the brush and looked back at me. I know for a fact, it stuck its tongue out at me and flicked its tail as if to say, “got your picture?”
    I’ll never watch Bambi again..
    .-= Sprite’s Keeper´s last blog ..Spin Cycle? I’m still working on my SLEEP cycle.. =-.

  4. Tricia is on the right track here. I will have to start shooting the damn things just so she can get a good picture! Maybe a petting zoo would be easier!

  5. Yes, I know the feeling of arriving and finding the layers of dirt left by several years of people coming and going, it makes you want to cry out for the bulldozer. But besides that “small” inconvenience, what glorious surroundings and the curious deer. Gosh, I wish I could see deer up close like that, begging you to photograph them. It sounds like you are having a great vacation. It will be fun to see more photos and stories.

  6. I grew up on game meat. My father was “Big Game Hunter” in southwestern Pennsylvania. This was the kind of town that the first day of deer hunting season was a school holiday.

    Deer meat is a bit tough in comparison to the processed meats with controlled diets we are used to. The flavor can vary widely as well depending on the availability of food in the area. Thus the meat is usually better ground up and used that way. My mother would make VATS of deer meat chili which was fabulous.
    .-= Snooker´s last blog ..Random Tuesday – Whoa, really random! =-.

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