First Day on My (Top Secret) New Job...

So, the mountains of paperwork finally got completed and within one day, six calls came in. Well, six emails came in. Same difference.

At any rate, I made my way in to be a casual employee today and I'm sure that I certainly made an impression in only the way that I can.

I walked in to be peppered by signs telling me about all the ways I could kill all the children I would come into contact with. There were signs about air pollutants, signs about peanuts, signs about other nuts, a sign about latex and a sign about perfume. Then there were all the signs about epi-pens.

The first thought that entered my head was OH MY GOD WHAT IF I KILL A KID ON MY FIRST DAY simply by walking by him??? No perfume? No air pollutants? NO LATEX?!?! (Not that latex is a regular part of my workplace ensemble, but how can a person be sure?)

Then there was the parking fiasco. I was standing around having no idea what to do with myself when the loudspeaker through the building came on. When the voice said "Jeep", my heart stopped. I was then thrilled when they said "Cherokee" because do you know what I do for a living? I DO THINGS THAT DO NOT PAY ME ENOUGH TO DRIVE A JEEP CHEROKEE. So then I was all happy.

Until they read my license plate off and I had to go out and move my vehicle.

Sure, not the biggest crisis in the world, but I was trying to MAKE AN IMPRESSION.

My workday started at eight a.m. and all of this happened prior to seven fifty. Nothing like starting off with a few good panic attacks to burn off the milk in your morning coffee, let me tell you.

It was a good day, a job I can see myself doing. I was invited back and will go back as it is quite close to CowTown.

My eggs aren't all in this basket, of course, as I am casual. I keep saying that so that I don't get ahead of myself. I'm holding out, doing this job plus my current full time job, in hopes that I can get that elusive nine to five with weekends off. Hopefully within the next six months to one year, I'll be there.

Oh, to know what a Saturday night feels like again.

Oh, Country Living....

I moved back to the country for a large array of reasons that you don't have the patience to read about and I don't have the patience to write about.

I have very few gripes about living in the country. I really love it here, in CowTown, with all seventeen houses ... Wait, I have a side comment. A new house is being built in CowTown AS WE SPEAK, which means that once it is complete? We will have EIGHTEEN HOUSES.

I love being out in the green, in the middle of nowhere, being able to light a big ol' fire any time I want to. I'm not surrounded by neighbors, I can get naked in front of my bedroom window, and if I drink too much and pass out on the front lawn, nobody will ever be the wiser.

There are two things I dislike about living in the country:
1. I can not have two a.m. shawarma any old time I like
2. The Internet

We recently acquired high speed internet here in CowTown, at great cost to our wallets and our souls. It works sporadically at best and is out often.

I've often wanted to post my rage about my non-functioning internet, but doing so makes me want to break out in hives, throw computers at walls, and stab myself in the eye with a pitch fork (A five tined one.)

I was perusing blogs lately and I came across this post, in which a woman so eloquently describes my frustration with internet way out in the boonies.

Read it. READ IT NOW. The woman is brilliant and I have spent many a morning in such the same fashion that I feel her and I have shared something sacred (Only, the opposite of sacred because living without reliable internet is NOT A WAY I WANT TO LIVE.)

On Online Dating...

I don't necessarily keep it a secret that I engage in online dating. I haven't actually gone on a date with someone I've met online in years. I look at it as a tool that may help me find the man of my dreams and if not? Well, I got the story of the guy who brought his knitting with him on our first (and only) date out of it. Oh, the mileage I got out of that story.

So today I happened to peruse this one individual, this guy who works in construction and fishes and hunts and then there's the best part: he rides barrels. OH MY WORD, a man who can ride a horse and wield a shotgun.

I just had to show his picture to my mother, and while she is looking at the picture of him on the horse, my father walks by and halts.

And I have possibly just found my next husband, the person of my dreams, my soulmate, everything that I am meant to be with and this is what my father has to say:

"Is he wearing a helmet? Is he wearing a helmet while he's racing barrels? It's bad enough he's in a girl's sport but if he's wearing a helmet to be in a girl's sport, you better not bring him back here!"

Seriously? Seriously?

It takes me months to decide that I don't like someone, and my father can decide such a thing with a glimpse of a single picture while he wasn't even wearing his glasses.

If only life was so easy for me.

On Removing Several Layers of Skin From My Face, Foals, and Puppies

Years ago, I wrote this post, in which you'll find an incredibly revolting tale of woe regarding a growth on a dog's head, and also an apt description of my acne medication.

I've decided, again, to attempt to make my skin look clear and wonderful, and as a result I've gone back to using my old acne medication. It still smells as strong, it still dries my skin as much. It currently hurts to laugh, smile, cry, wipe away tears, yawn, and chew on food. So, hey, perhaps it interferes with day to day living a little bit, but really, a small price to pay for clear skin, right?

There are some exciting goings-on here at The Ranch that don't have to do with my acne. For one, we are only TWO MONTHS away from meeting Tia's baby. In fact, it's more like six weeks away. Tia has become quite rotund and on a daily basis you can see her little baby flopping around in her belly. Sometimes at night I go down to the barn and lean my head on her belly to feel the little kicks. Nothing like getting kicked in the head by a fetal horse to make your heart smile.

Before Tia's baby gets born, however, we have another new arrival on her way eleven days from now. Dixie is going to be quite upset about this new arrival, this little bundle of liver-colored German Shorthaired Pointer puppiness. She is flying in from Winnipeg on the fifth of December. SuperNan and I are currently chomping at the bit, so to speak, to go shopping at Petsmart for cute pink little puppy things. My father is busy rolling his eyes at all the delighted squealing we have been doing over this adorable mass of wiggles. Dixie doesn't know what's about to hit her and for this I feel bad: my poor, grumpy old beagle is about to get licked and hassled by this puppy and there is no way to mentally prepare her for that.

In the meantime, I suppose I should be doing something productive with my day like doing schoolwork or excercising on my stationary bike.

The Players: Part One: Mal

I've decided to start my list of The Players with Mal for a variety of reasons. For one, she is a major player in my life. For another, I have spent a vast amount of time inebriated on her couch. And since I am slightly inebriated and on her couch right now, I thought HEY! What better time!

Malchin: [mal-chin] (noun, proper)
1. Best friend
2. Person you turn to when everything in your life has turned to crap
3. Person you laugh with when everything in your life has become hilarious
4. Person who lets you sleep on her couch when there is no other place in the world you'd rather sleep
5. Person you go to weddings with because, as per usual, you just don't have a date

Mallory and I have been friends for five years. When things started out, we were just two girls in a new city, meeting up at random parties. We worked together at The SubShack, that place I worked my way through university.

After first year, Mal and I were not really tight friends. I was preparing for my second year, not sure what day classes started on, and in the depths of Hell assembling furniture. I decided to take a break on my balcony and Mal was walking down the street.

So, I yelled out to her, and we exchanged phone numbers, determined what the first day of class was, and carried on with our lives. Later in the year, I got a kitten named Copernicus and she took Copernicus' sister for her roommate. After that, we arranged playdates for the kittens so that they would not lose touch with their familial heritage. This would define second year of university.

During my third year, my hardest year at school, Mal became My Person.

Third year was difficult for a variety of factors. My grandfather passed away after a long and difficult illness. Shortly therafter, my brother went to Afghanistan for the third time. My student loans did not come in, I was taking an inordinate number of classes at school. My roommate situation was abhorrent, my living situation was worse. I began to spiral into a very scary place and throughout it all, Mal was there.

During this time, Mal and I would meet up at her house or mine and eat food, drink booze, smoke cigarettes, and just exist. I liked the existing the most.

I disappeared for a month during my third year because I needed to get healthy again, and I will always remember the phone call Mal made to me, way out in the country. Where had I gone? What was I doing? When would I be back? a long list of "I don't knows" followed.

Eventually I made my return. I will always remember the first night I spent sleeping on her couch, catching up on homework that was long past overdue. So too will I always cherish the nights we spent drinking copious amounts of alcohol, giggling ridiculously at the movies and shows we watched together. These activities always took place on her couch. Free Willy, Reba McEntire, Borat, and an entire series of horror movies. We watched, we drank, we laughed together. One time we practiced shooting chewed up gum balls at a pizza box. We even drew a target on it. I've no idea who won, but it sure was a fun night.

I don't think it is possible to summarize five years' worth of friendship in one post. I could go on for hours about the drunken shenanigans, the nights sitting up late and talking about the things that scare us most. I've told Mal everything. Everything a person could know about another person.

During my third year, my mother bought me new Doc Martens. And as they broke in, they caused me to bleed and blister. I persevered and got an infection in my heel. I hate foot things, all things related to feet. I hate them. And my foot had something wrong with it. So Mal and I drank three bottles of Boone's, that delicious wine that is actually just pop with liquor in it, and I confessed to her that I had a hideous infection in my right heel.

So Mal did the only thing a true friend would do: She got out her tweezers, some antiseptic, some Tiger Balm ointment, and some bandaids. I screamed the entire time.

And then she began to dig infectious nast out of my right heel. We agreed on that night that our friendship had reached the ultimate level, and that we were sure friends for life.

Years after that, I incurred a workplace related injury. I can't discuss the nature of my work, but I can say that I do get bitten on occasion. And on this occasion, my left nipple had been bitten through three layers of clothing. And it was BLEEDING. I had no one to turn to and nowhere to go and I was sure that my nipple would get gangrene and fall off. And again, in an inebriated state, Mal was there to assist in the bandaging of my left boob to ensure that it would not fall victim to gangrene. Again we agreed that our friendship had reached the ultimate level.

A year after that, and we keep on finding new heights to our friendship. We keep on finding that place that outreaches all the other places of friendship and bringing it to a new level.

Mal and I did not talk for three months during the spring of 2009. I have to say that these were three very difficult and unhappy months. I kept on having random thoughts that I wanted to text to someone, and I had no one to text them to. I kept on wanting to have Fat Kids Night, and I had no one to be a Fat Kid with. I kept on thinking that I should do something to remedy the situation...

We began talking again and OH MY GOD, life became worth living once more. It was slow progress at first, but eventually, there we were. Eating too much food, drinking too much booze, and talking too late into the night. A life of excesses, we lead.

No more than ten cigarette burns into an old, borrowed couch. Countless nights of drunken debauchery. Countless men who haven't been worth our time, but to whom we've given our time nonetheless. Years of late night giggling, family functions, dating insanity, trauma and glory.

Here we are. This is Malchin. She calls me Mantis. (As in, bites the heads off of men. That's right. That's what she calls me). This is our friendship, defined by Cosmopolitans, beer, wine, Boone's, Peter Jackson, too much information, too much familial involvement: and the result of all of this is us.

This, Dear Blog, is Mal.

And Then There Were Cowmats...

Enormous, lumbering, covered in shit pieces of rubber that weigh more than I do. These mats needed to be plied (Pried) out from their previous home with many tools, much swearing, and a lot of sweating.

Each mat was kicked ceremoniously by myself before it was loaded into our borrowed pickup truck. I didn't get a chance to kick one of them, and I cried out "I have to kick it! Elsewise that will be the mat my horse gets tangled in and causes him to break his leg!" and with many a sigh, my good friend lowered the mat so that I could kick it.

Zydeco has arthritis. And as a result, I spent the morning today sweating, swearing, and hauling large and unwieldy pieces of rubber so that he may face less discomfort while he slumbers.

By eleven thirty this morning I was rather smelly, covered in manure, cobwebs and other debris. I was worn out, tired, grumpy, and I think I pulled a muscle in my back. Something was stuck in my hair and my face was flushed from work. Not flushed in a sexy sort of way. No, my face was more of a purple-ish color that made me look sickly more than anything else.

But hey! My horse is going to be warm and comfy this winter. Lord knows you can't put a price tag on something like that.

One Hundred Things About The Toonse Brigade

1. I have brown hair

2. I have Blue eyes.

3. I capitalize words that don't really require capitalization.

4. I'm not sure how tall I am in feet.

5. In centimetres, I am 171.5.

6. I'm never sure what my shoes size is

7. I am baffled by clothing sizes and I don't really know for sure what size I am

8. I am overly attached to the animals in my life

9. Zydeco came into my life on June 8, 2007

10. I don't know the date that Dixie came into my life but it was late summer and I was sixteen

11. I hate feet

12. I also hate sandals

13. I feel like people should not be allowed to wear sandals in my presence

14. I am bad at dating

15. But I have been on a lot of dates

16. I live with my parents and I am not entirely uncomfortable with this

17. My horse lives here, too

18. I detest people who use poor grammar

19. I consider myself a redneck but I don't meet very many redneck standards

20. I had my teeth fixed when I was between the ages of 10 and 14. My teeth are very straight now.

21. I take very good care of my teeth.

22. I own three guitars, all of which I play with the same level of incompetence

23. I name things: My first laptop was named Gretchen and my new laptop is named Alfonso

24. I've never shot anything while out hunting

25. I don't know how I feel about actually shooting something

26. I was 19 years old when I rented my first apartment

27. Soon after renting my first apartment, I named it Hell and the proceeded to live there for two full years

28. When I moved home, I wanted to be a strawberry farmer

29. I have no idea why my strawberry farm never came to be, except that I've been doing things other than planting fruit

30. I spent six years of my life managing a strawberry farm during summer breaks

31. My mother was diagnosed with cancer in January of 2007. She made a full recovery and didn't even whine over any of the procedures she had to endure

32. The Toonse Brigade is a nickname my brother came up with for me when I was young

33. It is actually a skit from Saturday Night Live. Apparently there was a skit about Toonses the Driving Cat

34. I did not see this skit until I was twenty five years old

35. By the time I saw the skit, this had been my nickname for over a decade

36. I have two biological brothers

37. I have two other brothers who I consider my brothers because of the amount of time we spent growing up

38. I have two nephews and two nieces.

39. I only see one nephew with any regularity

40. This makes me quite sad

41. I believe that cowboy boots have the ability to make you feel like a better person

42. I also believe that boot cut jeans area gift from heaven

43. I'm religious, but I don't attend church services

44. I battle with my addiction to cigarettes

45. Some days I don't smoke and some days I do

46. I have a general hatred for the medical profession

47. I have a brother who has served in Afghanistan three times

48. I am bad at make up

49. I often look orange once I've applied makeup

50. I depend on others to tell me when I look orange due to poor makeup application

51. I have an obsession with socks

52. I hoard socks and have quite an impressive collection

53. I was quite literally scared of the dark until I was nineteen years old

54. I was scared of spiders until I was sixteen years old

55. I have never been in a car accident

56. I once fell off my bike and knocked out my top four front teeth

57. I had braces at the time, so my natural teeth remained with me

58. Sometimes I think I would like to get a boob job

59. I really can't afford a boob job

60. I would like to buy a house here in CowTown

61. I refer to my hometown as CowTown

62. I dislike people breathing near me

63. I have issues with people being in close proximity to me

64. I'm working on that one

65. I was divorced when I was nineteen

66. I used to be embarrassed and ashamed that I have a failed marriage in my history.

67. I think it took me about five years to be comfortable with that little factoid about myself

68. I have never been on an airplane, seen the ocean, or been to Disney World

69. I don't really feel deprived about those things

70. One time, I let a drunk person pluck my eyebrows

71. Those eyebrows turned out better than when I pluck my eyebrows by myself

72. For three months, when I was in university, I lived on a couch that still belongs to a girl named Mal

73. Those were some of the best months of my life

74. During that time, I wrote a novel

75. The novel that I wrote is not very good: it is disorganized and long-winded

76. I tend to be generally disorganized and long-winded

77. I am writing a One Hundred Things List to replace the one I wrote several years ago.

78. I do believe that this list is a bit more inclusive

79. I once went to a horse show and won red ribbons and a prize for being top scorer in my division

80. That day still gives me a thrill to think about

81. When I get bored, I sit at my computer and look at pictures of me and my horse

82. Then I critique them and curse myself for not being a better rider

83. I own a Gibson ES137. It is a limited edition and has a real pearl inlay on the fretboard

84. One time I went to an open mic night and the announcer spent more time announcing my guitar than he did announcing me

85. When I was 20, I made a demo CD

86. When I was 21, I made another demo CD

87. When I was 22, my uncle sent out some of my demos to record companies, thinking he would get me a record deal without me even knowing about it

88. Instead, I got rejected by record companies without even knowing that I was up for rejection

89. I used to think that I might get famous some day.

90. I'm totally cool with not getting famous at this point in my life

91. I don't know if I want to have children at some point

92. When I was dating the man who is now my ex husband, I was so excited to spend a day with him that I spent fourteen hours sitting on the fender of his tractor while he hauled wagons during hay season

93. The lyrics of country music songs can make me cry

94. I have a specific playlist of music that I listen to when I want to cry

95. I cry over a lot of things, most of which are not worth shedding tears over

96. One of the most precious memories I have of my nephew is him offering me a Kleenex when he was about three. I had been crying and he came to me and said "Clean eyes for Auntie"

97. I don't watch very many movies

98. But I love horror movies

99. I don't know how to change the barrel of my own gun

100. It took me about twenty five minutes to complete this list

Updating the Ol' Blog

So, the time has come.

I've had the same info up on my blog since Joomy encouraged me to start writing it way, way back in October 2005. At that time I had just met the one I had dubbed Cute Boy, I was living in the depths of Hell, in a city I detested, with a kitten named Copernicus.

I figured that all of that information is completely outdated. Further, I have decided to take blogging on again in such a fashion that hopefully it becomes interesting to read once more.

My first task is to update my sidebars and perhaps give my blog a bit of a new look (From one of blogger's templates, lest you be concerned that I may take up the art of HTML.) My next blogging goal is to do a write-up of the significant players. Bear with me, old readers. I'm going to make a sidebar dedicated to The Players in my life so that newcomers can link to them and find out who they are.

After that, I need to re-evaluate exactly what it is that I'm writing about here. I sometimes read through some of my older posts and think, Damn, I used to be interesting! Lately my blog is boring and mundane and lacking in substance.

So, here we go!

This Will Not Take Two Seasons...

Years ago I went through a breakup. Surprise! That breakup, which I posted snipets of, was chronicled somewhat on my blog. I was thinking about how to blog about my current topic when that breakup came to mind, and I recalled that it took me a whole season of Road To Avonlea and a season of ER to get over it.

I do remember opening the gift of Road To Avonlea and thinking, this is exactly what I need when the breakup happens. As it stood, it took me more than a season of Road To Avonlea and as a result, directly after that, I moved on to ER. I sat on my couch with Dixie, I watched mindless television, and I recovered.

I've done this in the past, needed something to distract me while I move on.

I went shopping today and bought a book by Marian Keyes, who I think I love more than anyone in the world right now. Her novels are fantastic and if you start reading them, please start with Rachel's Holiday as it made me laugh and laugh until I was nearly in tears. Wonderful author, that Marian.

I had high hopes for my current dating situation and like so many others, it just hasn't turned out the way I imagined. Mal asked me how I was feeling about some decisions I've made and when I told her, there was silence on the line. And then she said "Ouch. That sounds like it hurts."

Yeppers!

The fact of the matter here is that I am not in the depths of despair. I have moments in the day where I feel kinda sad, and the odd time over the past two weeks I've felt, momentarily, like I've been punched in the gut, but other than that, I'm totally fine.

So I'm making the decision to not require a minimum of six weeks' worth of mindless television. I'm giving this one a book. A Marian Keyes book.

I will read it in peace in my parents' living room with my trusty deer hound by my side.

In about seventy two hours, I will have moved on (And I say this with utter confidence) and then?

Then, Dear Blog, I will post the exciting details of my new job, which is looming closer and closer to me each day.

There is hope!

On Impractical Vehicle Ownership...

So, I love my vehicle. I love everything about it. I love kicking up dust, spinning out on gravel, leaving tire marks on the road, and blaring music while I drive aimlessly through rural routes. I think everyone in the world knows how much I love my JEEP.

But now that winter is coming, I have some reservations.

The JEEP is a spinny, spinny vehicle. The first time I drove it in heavy rain, I almost spun into a bridge after having eased very gently onto the gas and off of the clutch. A few other times we have done some near donuts not on purpose, and these moments scare me. I love doing things like this under my control. The rest of the time? Bad news, Bear.

I've been consulting a number of people (read: everyone I know) on this matter. I've heard a number of responses on how to drive a JEEP in the winter. Some people have stated that the first time I see snow, I should turn on the four wheel drive and leave it there until the snow melts. Other people I have consulted have warned me against four wheel drive, stating that should I be in four-by and spin out of control, I will then have four wheels propelling me towards the nearest tree or hydro pole rather than two. Interesting logic, this.

I consulted my brother, and he had some interesting information on driving in four wheel drive for me. First, he asked me exactly who I had been consulting. I rattled off a list of people and he stopped me. He then stated "I'm willing to bet these are the same people who think that if you shoot a twelve guage shotgun, it will kick so hard you'll fly back twenty feet and land on your ass. They also probably think that it actually is possible to tip a cow." Right. Consider the source. That little tidbit.

I've been pondering a number of ways I can make my vehicle handle better in the winter. Being rear wheel drive, I've thought about packing some sandbags into the back to make it heavier, thus lessening my chances of kicking out sideways in slippery conditions. I've also thought of buying new snow tires for it, despite the fact that I can ill afford this move.

The end advice that I really plan on taking comes from my mother and my brother: Gentle touch. Soft hands. Drive slow. One of my reservations about owning such an underpowered vehicle is that I am always holding up traffic: It takes a long time to get from first gear to fifth, and people always end up passing me when I turn onto a highway, no matter how much time I allow. My mother tends to say I should forget about the rest of the people on the road and worry about myself.

Not spinning the tires is often difficult for me. Sure, there are times when I go out into the middle of nowhere and spin for the sheer joy of spinning. I have to say, though, that I'm actually not that good with the clutch and there are a few places that I spin my tires accidentally as I try not to stall the engine. I've been practicing this as much as I can and I have to say that after seven months of bliss together, Da JEEP and I have still not gotten it right.

I suppose that now all there is to do is wait and see, use the gentle touch, try not to spin the tires, and hope that the JEEP and I do not meet our end together in a haze of snowy glory.

Unhealthy Attachment

My precious puppy has returned to me, praise be.

Dixie ran off after a deer, or perhaps a rabbit, but this time she stayed in the forest. It is typical that, if you lose your dog, you leave your jacket in the place where you last saw her with a tidbit of food and hopefully, the dog will know enough to stay there until you return.

About twelve hours after her disappearance, my brother returned to the bush and lo and behold, there was my Dixie! She was tired from her shenanigans and slept for a large portion of the day. I returned to the house to fawn over her and she didn't even get up off the couch to muppy with me.

Please know that I use the word 'muppy' here as a verb. Dixie and I have this tradition whereby I squeal "Muppymuppymuppy" at her and she begins to howl, whine, wiggle all over, and generally fly into a frenzy. We muppy over each other when I come home from work, during commercial breaks on TV, if I've been drinking too much, or if she discovers me sleeping in my bed. A big fan of pushing me off my pillows and hogging up the covers, that Dixie.

I sat for the evening that Dixie was gone trying very, very hard not to focus on the fact that I may never see her again. I simply can't imagine a life without her, a life free of muppying, a life free of my trusty couch companion. My life is severely lacking a cuddle buddy to watch mindless TV with, and Dixie fills that void quite nicely.

At any rate, rather than trying to fix my unhealthy attachment to my beagle, I am just going to bask in the fact that she is mine and that perhaps this year was her last year deer hunting. I know she loves it but I have to wonder if it would be worth it should her mind falter and she forgets her way back to where we hunt in the bush.

I Am Trying Not to Despair...

Oh, Dixie.

I love my little Muppy. And I openly call her Muppy in front of the whole wide world simply because I love her.

Years ago, this happened.

Dixie is now nine and I fear that she may have lost her mind, if not just a little bit. She chased a rabbit the other day, quite out of character for her. I think she's just having a bit of an identity crisis and has forgotten that she is a deer hound.

Well, today Dixie chased another rabbit. (How do we know it was a rabbit? Good question. Dixie is such a fabulous deer hound that she has a particular howl for deer, and a different howl for everything else. The howl she let out today and the other day were not her deer howls.)

And now that she is off chasing the rabbit, she has not come home. She didn't meet the gang back at the trucks to go home.

And now my muppy waits, alone in the forest, for my family to return in the morning.

I'm doing surprisingly well. I am not weeping uncontrollably or laying in the fetal position on the living room floor. I feel like someone should give me a token for such behavior on my part.

I can't imagine a life without Dixie, a life without squealing "MUPPY! Muppy muppymuppymuppy" in such a fashion that Dixie goes crazy and spins in circles howling her delight. I can't imagine not having my cuddle buddy lay beside me on the couch. I don't know what I will do with myself should my beagle not return to me.

But I am keeping my spirits high. She has run away from home before, and now she has run away again.

Here's hoping that Dixie returns home safely once again.

Well, That Was A Letdown...

I have been hunting now for four years. And I use the term hunting very seriously here because I have HUNTED with ferocity in hopes of at least SEEING something worth shooting at in the bush.

But I've yet to see a deer.

I fought tooth and nail to get two consecutive days off of work so I could go hunting. I dressed up in my Blaze orange and put my gun in Da JEEP and loaded down my pockets with slugs. I had a cup of warm coffee, a knife clipped to my belt, and my trusty hound dog at my side.

AND I DIDN'T EVEN SEE A DEER.

I'm feeling a little deflated about the whole situation.

Dixie, however, had a grand time chasing a rabbit. This is a terrible habit for a deer hound (As her time is better spent chasing deer) but I figure out of hopelessness, she just wanted to chase something. I feel for her and several times contemplated shooting at a squirrel, or a tree, or into the open sky but chose not to as this is considered poor hunting etiquette.

She did chase a deer today, howling her way through the forest like her beagle-y little self, but sadly she took it about eight thousand miles in the opposite direction of us, so no deer was to be had.

Da JEEP made it through with flying colors. I was so pumped to get to use the four wheel drive for real, to tear it through the mud and laugh in the face of other hunters who would surely be stuck in the mud.

This was not the case and after driving a little ways with the 4X4 turned on, I stopped and turned it off because all it was doing at that point was burning gas. A person could probably make it in with a Honda Civic if they so desired, that is how dainty the road has become.

But, if nothing else, I braved the four a.m. alarm clock ring, the freezing elements and the whipping winds to bond with nature and make some decisions about my life while hoping that the elusive ten point buck would walk out in front of me.