My First Bow Season

by almost_rosey // 5Nov2017 // No Comments

A few years ago I bought what I call a “baby bow.” It’s meant to just target shoot & not actually use to go hunting. I really enjoyed playing with it in the yard and thought maybe I could actually get a real bow to go hunting. If anything it would open up my hunting season with more opportunities. Considering we hunt public land it would also mean I could potentially be able to tag out before all the idiots go out just for rifle opener.

I looked into a few options and went to an archery store and I bought a Mission II by Matthews. It’s meant for youth or small statured adults. It’s lightweight and is a good starter bow since the bow itself isn’t too expensive. I practiced all summer with it. I had 3 pins set to 15, 25, and 35 yards. I figured I wouldn’t need anything beyond that with where we hunt.

I went out a few times on the public land and didn’t see too much but it was also pretty early in the season. Deer don’t really start to move until the last half of October and early November.

My guy’s buddy said I could hunt his private property and thought I might get a chance at a deer since he had seen quite a few. I was actually very conflicted about it. I’m proud to hunt public land. My guy and I put in a lot of time to find good hunting land and we succeeded. Well he really succeeded. He did almost all the work. I was just lucky enough to have a good guide. We’ve taken 6 big game animals on public land in 3 years. I decided to try hunting the private land though cause I thought it couldn’t hurt to have more places to hunt. I also was hoping to just pull on a deer. I assumed I’d end up scaring them away. It’s hard to be stealthy with a bow. It’s a lot easier to bring up a gun discreetly on a deer. I knew I’d be hunting out of a ground blind on his land so thought I might be able to draw my bow more easily as well.

I hunted there a couple times and saw a few deer. Way more than I saw in our other spot. I never had an opportunity to draw my bow though. I was able to adjust my work schedule to work 6-2 so I could go out after work if I thought the weather would be good.

I ended up going on Friday the 13th. My lucky day. I’ve always thought Friday the 13th was lucky. The weather was about perfect. It was going to be dropping in temperature and the moon was waning from the full harvest moon the week prior. I felt good about it. I thought I’d see a lot of deer. Maybe get a chance to draw my bow.

I was staring off at one part of the property and when I turned back to look straight ahead there was a doe. She was too far away for me to shoot but I was still excited. She started to walk back into the woods. I could see the trail she was going to head own and there was another doe walking towards her. I sat watching. In my head I was thinking turn around…come back. I lifted up my bow out of my lap in case she turned around. To my amazement she did. If that doe hadn’t been in her way I think she would have gone back in the woods. She started to walk down a trail and I realized that if she kept walking in the direction she was going she would end up right by a tree I had ranged at 35 yards.

I brought up my bow and pulled back. I yelled at her and she looked but kept walking. I yelled again. She stopped. I adjusted my aim instantly and released my arrow. I thought I had hit maybe too low. She ran away with the arrow sticking out of her and I watched until I couldn’t see anymore. I grabbed my phone and texted my guy. I said I just shot a doe. I think it was low. I’m not sure why I thought that. I think I was just so worried about having a bad shot that I just assumed it would be bad. That was my worst fear with bow hunting. I was afraid I wouldn’t have a good kill shot and I’d have to go up to the deer with my bow to finish it off. He told me to sit still. He would come out to me. A moment later I heard a crash. I knew it was her. I just didn’t know if she had actually crashed for good. I sat there and waited for my guy to arrive. I was telling myself it was a good shot. I heard her crash. Then I saw birds circling right above where I heard the crash.

He got there and I told him where I shot. He said, “No. You didn’t shoot that far.” I said yes I did and then we walked to where I shot her and there was blood. He said in disbelief, “You shot this far?” I responded “Yes. It’s 35 yards.” We started to follow the trail and eventually came across my arrow. She had shaken it out. We kept walking and there she was laying on her side. I asked her if she was dead. She didn’t flinch. I walked up to her with my bow ready just in case but it wasn’t necessary. It was a perfect shot. It was just like my doe last year. I had double lunged her and nicked her heart.

I am so grateful to my guy for teaching me everything and that I was able to hunt his friend’s land. I am proud to hunt public land but I’m not ashamed to have taken an opportunity. Like I said, I didn’t think I’d actually seal the deal. I am still amazed that the first time I brought up my bow on a deer ended in success. Friday the 13th wasn’t that doe’s lucky day but it was lucky for me. She had so many other paths she could have taken but she went down the one that ended up in my first bow season being a successful harvest.

Saddle Thrombus

by almost_rosey // 15Jul2017 // No Comments

I started this after the worst day of my life. I was hoping it would be therapeutic. That I could write about that horrible day but also good things as well. I could never bring myself to finish it. Maybe I thought if I finished it I would forget everything or move on or that I would have to accept that my baby is never coming back. Obviously he is never coming back. Or maybe I thought it would never be good enough. This is true. It will never be good enough. I’ll never be able to convey the love I had for ‘a cat’ or what he truly meant to me. What also ended up happening was less than 3 weeks later we found out our other boy cat, George, had mouth cancer and only had 2-3 months to live. So while I never even got over the death of bun bun, I had to start dealing with the fact that George too was dying very soon. He ended up being put down on October 18th 2016 (about 3 months after bun bun). Why the world decided to take both our boys so close together is beyond me. They were the best cats. Another sidetone, I ended up getting cat scratch fever after dealing with that horrible day one year ago (July 15th 2016) & could have actually died myself. I got it taken care of quickly enough so was able to be cured.

That being said, here is what happened that day. Saddle Thrombus is every cat owner’s worst nightmare. You never know when it will strike so love your babies always. It’s affected me in such a way that I don’t ever want to get more cats. I’m sure I will but this day was the most traumatic of my life. This picture was the last one I took of my baby on July 3rd 2016, not even 2 weeks later he would be gone.

It’s Friday July 15, 2016. My alarm goes off at 6:20AM. I’m tired. I hit the snooze & actually fall asleep. It goes off again at 6:30AM and I lay there thinking about my day. I have to do a cleaning validation at work. It will be busy. It will go by fast. At 6:40AM I get out of bed. I open the bedroom door & I hear my cat meowing. It’s not a normal meow. It’s like he is yelling MEOW MEOW MEOW. It’s higher pitched. It’s loud. It’s short & he keeps saying it over & over. I run into the living room & he is laying on the floor by the ottoman. Still meowing in that strange way. He looks scared. I drop to my knees beside him. I’m getting close to hysterics. “What’s wrong baby? What is it?” MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!

I look all around. The other cats are watching. All of them. They look concerned. I’m looking all around to assess what could have happened. Thinking…

Is he asleep? He must be having a night terror. Can cats have night terrors? He must have fallen. Where could he have fallen from? There’s no way he could have fallen & ended up over here laying on his side. Maybe he tried to get to the top of the bookcase. Maybe he fell and crawled around the couch ending up over here. Yeah. That’s it. No. That can’t be. Maybe the other cats are bothering him. Yes. That’s it. They ganged up on him. I’ll bring him to the bathroom with me.

I lift him up & carry him to the bathroom. I lay him down on the floor. MEOW! MEOW! MEOW! He tries to sit up. He does sit up but then his back legs swing under him & he is only using his front legs to prop himself up. He has no control of his back legs. He must have broken a leg, or a hip, or his back.

I text my guy & say, “Bun got hurt.” I shut the bathroom door slightly. I run into the living room & grab my computer to find the vet’s phone number. My guy calls me. “What?!” I respond in a shaky voice saying that I didn’t know. I woke up & he was meowing strangely. MEOW! MEOW! MEOW! He can’t use his back legs. I’m trying to find the vet’s number. He tells me that he didn’t even see him that morning.

I’m thinking…So this happened sometime within the last 90 minutes since my guy leaves for work earlier than me. Maybe it literally just happened but at least I know it hasn’t been more than 90 minutes.

I call the vet. I am trying to hold back tears. The vet answers & I am starting to cry, “Um, my cat is hurt. He can’t use his back legs.” MEOW! MEOW! MEOW! “Can you hear him?” The vet asks what happened and I explain that I don’t know. I woke up and opened the bedroom door & heard him crying. I thought maybe the other cats were bothering him so I brought him to the bathroom & he can’t use his back legs. The vet replies, “Is he aware of your presence?” I tell her yes. “How old is he?” I tell her that he is only 12. The response I get is, “Oh. Well bring him in.”

I leave the living room & open the door to my dressing room. I hear a strange scuffling on the floor and turn to see my kitty pulling himself across the hallway with his upper body & into my dressing room. He always had great upper body strength. In his old house he used to jump from the counter to the space above the kitchen cupboards and use his front legs to pull himself up. Kind of like a chin up.

He lays on my clothes that are on the floor. I grab a pair of jeans & a t-shirt & throw them on. I put my hair in a ponytail. I look around and dump out my clean clothes in a laundry basket onto the floor & throw in a couple of towels. I put him in the basket and bring him out to my car. I forgot my purse so I run back inside. I tell him to sit still. I’m afraid he will try to move & hurt himself. I see his eyes follow me. He looks scared & I can tell he doesn’t want to be alone. I grab my purse, get back to the car, & I drive fast. I make the 75 minute trip in just under 60 minutes.

During the drive all I can think about is that this is my last hour with my baby. I try to tell myself that he just broke something & he will be fine. He’ll get a cast. It will be OK. Deep down I know that something is very wrong. I’m trying not to cry so he won’t get more upset cause I am upset, but I can’t hold back the tears. I put my iPod on shuffle. I just need to relax. It will be OK. I end up skipping most every song except for Tori. He loves Tori.

I sing along with Tori. He calms down when Tori is singing. He shuts his eyes and raises his head slightly. The sun is shining down on him in the car. He is relaxing a bit. He has always loved Tori’s music. I was watching it on my computer and he heard it and came up to watch & listen.

I keep telling him that mommy will make it all better. I sing him his song. It’s the song I use to tuck him in every night. Yes he liked to be tucked in. One night I pet him a lot before I went to bed & talked to him a bit and from that point on if I didn’t “tuck him in” he would scream at the bedroom door until I did. So I would pet him every night and talk/sing, “Bunny Bun. Pretty bird. Sleep so good. He’s a pretty bird. Mommy loves you. Yes I do. You sleep good.” and I’d kiss him. He’d grip the couch and shut his eyes & would be quiet through the night.

He relaxes when I sing him his song. I get to the vet & rush inside. The receptionist asks if I am the lady that called. I say yes. She tells me to go into the room to the left. I do. A technician comes in and asks me the same questions to which I give the same response. She asks, “Is he cold?” I tell her I don’t know. His head felt warm in the car but the sun was on him. She takes his temperature. I’m going to take it again she says. She does and replies that his temperature is 88-89F when it should be 100F. I’m thinking she needs another thermometer but she rushes off and comes back with heating pads & blankets. The vet walks in & goes over to him and starts petting him. She started pulling on his back legs. He doesn’t even flinch. She is pinching his toes. He is such a good vet kitty I think. He always has been. She pulls on his front paws and he pulls those away. She then looks to me…

“I’m afraid it’s pretty grave,” she says while nodding her head. I realize she is nodding her head so I will accept what she is telling me as truth. That’s what first responders do to people in shock. I can feel my head swimming. I feel dizzy. I know that I am in some sort of shock. She continues, “He has saddle thrombus. It’s a blood clot that is causing him to be paralyzed in his back legs & is causing this extreme pain. Cats with heart or thyroid conditions are pre-dispositioned to this.” And then a flashback happens. I remember when we was about 5 or so he had an abnormal test at the vet. They did some more tests & couldn’t find anything. They said I could keep testing him for other things but we didn’t cause everything appeared normal & he had no symptoms. This was probably an indicator of what was to come. Unfortunately, no one knows very much about saddle thrombus & unless he had been put on a blood thinner this was bound to happen. Even cats on blood thinning regiments still have the potential for saddle thrombus.

She goes on, “We can hospitalize him & hope he stabilizes soon. I’m afraid the outlook isn’t good. It’s affecting both his legs & his temperature is very low. If he does stabilize it will be a couple of months of home care. He might never regain use of his legs due to nerve damage. Even then a reoccurrence is highly probable since cats that suffer from this often have another episode & generally do not survive longterm.” I could tell she wanted to tell me to put him down but she couldn’t say it.

I stood there in complete shock. Every time she said something else it kept getting worse. He might not make it. If he does make it he might never be able to walk again. And then another blood clot will likely happen with survival longterm being not likely.

How can that be? He is so fit. He is the most active cat. He is always running about, playing with whatever he can find, and jumping high up on things.

I ask, “So he might die in the hospital?” She says yes. I think to myself that can’t happen. He is so needy. I coddled him. He loved to cuddle. He has separation anxiety. He has no idea what is going on. I can’t leave him here. Just at home he used his upper body to follow me. If he could have jumped out of the basket to follow me to get my purse he would have. I can’t leave him alone. He will be thinking it’s me coming in through the door and it will be a stranger. He hates strangers. He is a scaredy cat. He always hides when company comes over. She leaves for a moment. To go find out how much the hospitalization will cost. It doesn’t matter. Cost isn’t an issue. If I knew he could be saved I’d spend whatever it takes.

I’m staring down at my baby. I’m leaning over him, cradling him. His head is resting by my arm and both his arms are wrapped around my arm. I try to move my arm cause it is an awkward position and he grips it tight & his eyes widen. I can see the fear in his eyes. He doesn’t want me to leave. I tell him it’s OK and sing his song, “Bunny Bun. Pretty Bird. Sleep so good he’s a pretty bird.” I’m thinking that soon he will be sleeping forever. Why?! How could this be? He shivers but keeps gripping my arm tight. He starts to fade behind his eyes. He is dying right in front of me. The vet comes back.

I look up at her & ask, “How did this happen? He was just fine last night.” In my head I can see him being what we call twinkle toes. He is so light on his feet. I came home and he was happy and was running from room to room for no apparent reason as cats do. Mommies little baryshnikov. She tells me that is just how it happens. The blood clot breaks free and clogs his smaller arteries. She tells me there is nothing I could have done. She says that he is in a lot of pain & is scared so we need to make a decision soon, “Why don’t we give him some pain meds & a sedative so you can think a moment. Is there anyone you can call?” I wanted to scream at her…why didn’t we give him something right away! I tell her my husband is on a boat with low service but that I will go outside to think a moment. She takes him away to give him some meds.

I get to my car and text my guy everything that happened. He asks the same questions I did. I tell him what the vet told me. I google Saddle Thrombus and a blog comes up with exactly what I experienced. Of course in the title it says, ‘Every Cat Owner’s Worst Nightmare.’ How fitting. They woke up to find their cat meowing strangely & unable to move. Everything I read is as bleak as the vet described. Cats dying in the hospital, only 50% recover use of their legs, & the worst part…re-occurance is almost inevitable as only part of the clog has broken free. The rest of it is sitting in his heart like a time bomb. One that you will never know when it’s going to go off.

I try to calm myself down. I know I can’t leave him in the hospital. If it were one leg & his temperature wasn’t so low. If I hadn’t seen the fear of my leaving him in his eyes. If he hadn’t started to fade in front of me. He might never be able to fully walk again? All I could think of was what if he couldn’t run. He is the most active cat. What kind of life would that be. I know he’d be a trooper but would he be happy being bathed on a daily basis cause he can’t use his litter box properly? And then the worst part…most likely this will re-occur within a few months to a year. What if it happened while I was at work or worse…out of town. I’d come home to him being dead knowing he was there paralyzed & screaming in pain. I couldn’t imagine having him go through this again. I go in and tell the vet I’ve made my decision.

I’m waiting. The vet walks into the room holding him. He is looking all around with wide eyes. He looks confused, concerned, scared. At least he’s stopped screaming. He isn’t in pain any more. As she is walking him into the room she says in a chipper, happy voice, “There’s mommy!” He perks up cause he knows the word mommy and sees me. His eyes remain focused on me. I can see the fear leave his eyes. My heart breaks, but I also calm down at the same time, because I see him relax cause he saw me. She lays him down on the table & asks if I’d like a few minutes. I say yes. I wanted to tell her to give me as many as possible but I knew there would never be enough time so I didn’t say anything.

I bend down and look at him. I pet him and say “Hi baby”. He grips the table slightly (a love grip). I kiss his diamond head, pet him again, and ask him, “Who’s a sleepy boy?” He shuts his eyes slightly (sleepy, relaxed, squinty eyed) and love-grips again. The technician asks about the spelling of his name. OEDIPUS. It’s for the paw print they made. I can barely read the paper to verify the spelling. I tell her that is correct but ask if she can put Honey Bun on it instead. I tell her we only call him Oedipus when he is bad now. As if she cares.

I keep petting him but don’t speak. I just stare down at my baby. Petting him, soothing him, soothing myself. Relaxing. We both are relaxing. I know if I speak I will burst into tears & I don’t want him to be scared or know that I am upset. I can feel myself reaching a zen-like state if that makes any sense. Which is good. I know that now that my energy is more calm his is too (of course I’m sure the sedatives helped him also) but I’m glad I calmed down for him. Kind of like when a mom & baby are sleeping together & their heartbeats become one.

The vet comes in. I wanted to scream at her that the technician never left. We never got to be alone. She walks through the process. She says he will fall asleep & then his heart rate will continue to slow until it stops. She looks at him & says I think he likes his drugs. I almost chuckle & say yeah. He looks very relaxed from the sedatives. This is more or less how he looked laying on the table. Same direction, same expression.

She administers the shot slowly. I know she is doing it slowly so he literally will fall asleep & then die. In less than a minute it’s over. He is gone. His nose starts running. The vet grabs a tissue to go catch the fluid. I almost laugh cause he had a runny nose from time to time. She looks at me & hugs me tight. I’m not sure if I hug back or sit there limp. Either way I’m crying. She tells me she would have done the same thing. I say, you would? in a sad sobbing voice.

I bring him home. He looks like he is sleeping in the car ride home. Of course he would. He was sleeping when he died. Thank goodness he didn’t feel any pain in the very end. I dig his grave. I should have waited to bury him so my guy could have said his goodbye. I didn’t even think about that. All I could think about was that I had to dig. If I didn’t my guy would be upset that he had to come home from work to dig his grave. I’m not sure why I thought that. I wan’t thinking very clearly. What I should have thought was that I could dig but wait for the burial.

As I’m about to bury him I’m holding him and rocking back & forth. I’m crying hysterically saying, “My baby. My baby. My baby.” You know those scenes in the movies where a mother has lost her child. I give those actresses credit but it doesn’t compare to what it looks like in real life. Yes he wasn’t a real human child but he wasn’t just a cat. He was the closest thing I will ever have to a child. He was the most human-like cat I have ever met.

“Until one has loved an animal, a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.” ―French Poet Anatole France

He was my soul’s counterpart in animal form.

After I bury him I go and fall asleep for a few hours and the days that follow are not much better. It’s hard to go to bed & get up in the morning. I know the reason for this is because that is when it happened. I went to bed with no idea of what was to follow. I woke up to hearing him screaming. It’s only natural my body would associate that time of day with sadness. He was ripped from this earth in such a quick & violent manner. We had no warning. No idea that this could even happen. Fine one minute and paralyzed & dying the next. Everything sets me off in tears.

His sister claimed the spot on the couch where he used to sit. She walked into my dressing room smelling all the places he used to be & meowing at me. Asking where is her brother, her friend…

I open the cottage cheese and start crying. He used to run into the kitchen when he heard the container being opened. He loved dairy products. I go to make a brine for the venison & start crying. He loved venison. His tiger bowl is in the cupboard. Empty & clean. No more nibbles.

I eat at the dinner table & try to not cry in front of my husband. Bun Bun (another nickname) used to sit in a chair at the dinner table. He was the most personable cat I ever knew. I’m not just saying that. I have other cats and it’s not the same with them. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but he was my baby. He used to come into the bathroom and sit on the toilet & watch me get ready in the mornings. He would ask for a snack when I got home from work by staring at his food dish & then at me. He used to talk back to us. We used to say he had an opinion about everything. He would chime in at just the right moments during a conversation. Bing bing or ming ming. I can remember the way he used to sound. Hear him jumping down from high places. He was my precious baby boy, my little dandy bird.

I tried to tell myself that maybe it’s better this way. That now I don’t have to watch him get old or sick or see him start missing his jumps. I know that it isn’t better though. The human mind can accept death easier when it happens to someone that is old. It’s the natural progression of life. You get old & eventually die. I always knew I’d be a wreck when he died but I thought he would get old or sick. That’s what is supposed to happen. He was taken from us too soon.

People always say that you never know how long you have on this earth but no one expects it when it is sudden & out of nowhere.

As awful as it was I’m thankful that I was there with him until the end. I’m thankful it didn’t happen while we were on our honeymoon or away for the weekend (we were just out of town the weekend prior for goodness sakes). I’m thankful that I could see the love in his eyes & I know he could feel my love towards him.

I can feel good knowing that I was a good mommy. He liked his new life up north. We got to spend a lot more time together since I don’t have to commute as far & came home for lunch. He has been such a key member of my family for so long. He picked me out at the humane society. He meowed at me to get my attention. He was more than a pet. He was a friend. He was there during hard parts of my life. There was a period of time when I was moving constantly & he was happy as long as we were together & vice versa. He loved his daddy also. I’m glad he had a daddy that he loved so much.

He was happy as long as he had me & his sister & my guy.

So here we are, one year later. They say time heals all wounds but it’s really just a different way of living. The grief is still there. Just different. I am better but I still get sad. I need to quit re-living that day over & over. In the end he wasn’t in any pain. He wasn’t scared. In fact he was completely relaxed. His last memories were me talking to him, Hi Baby. Who’s a sleepy boy?, and kissing him, & petting him. He fell asleep being pet by his mommy.

I just need to remember him when he was alive. All the cute day to day things that he used to do. Happy blissful memories of my orange kitty, my baby. He made me a better person & I will love him forever.

Dinner Party Tiramisu

by almost_rosey // 10May2017 // No Comments

I really enjoy having friends over for dinner. I like being a hostess. I would prefer to have nicer plates & actually make a pretty table like they do on TV but have never invested in it. Regardless, I enjoy having company, planning a menu, making sure everyone has what they need, and that they are enjoying themselves.

A long time ago, in another life I like to say, I used to have friends over for dinner often. Roughly every other weekend I would have people over. One of those people was my guy. At that point in time though we were friends. We were on the verge of transitioning into where we are today.

One night I had an Italian themed dinner. I had planned a menu of parmesan encrusted chicken breasts with roasted red pepper sauce, some sort of side that I can no longer recall, and tiramisu for dessert.

I have always loved tiramisu but had never made it before that dinner party. My trusty cookbook had a recipe so I thought I would give it a go. It did not turn out pretty but tasted fantastic. As I was making it & reading the recipe, it said to cut it into thirds. I cut it into 3 pieces in the pan. Whoops. It meant cut the whole cake into thirds so that you’d have cake, filling, cake, filling, etc. I didn’t care too much. I found it more funny than anything else so decided to just keep it and have it be super tall. It would be an excellent conversation piece if anything else.

I was finishing as much prep as I could do before people arrived. They were running late which didn’t bother me cause I was running a bit behind too. I went into a cupboard to grab a mixing bowl and managed to knock out the bowl of my food processor onto the floor. I stepped back to get it & stepped on what I though was a rock. I looked and saw it was the blade of my food processor. I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. I had stepped on the plastic part that attaches it to the bowl or so I thought. I took a few steps to put it away and turned around & realized I was not as lucky as I thought. There was blood everywhere. The blade was so sharp (honestly it had never been used) that it had sliced my foot super clean so that I hadn’t known I had gotten cut.

I saw a roll of paper towels on the counter, grabbed it, & hit the floor putting pressure & the towels on my wound. In my head I was thinking that this couldn’t be happening. I was having friends over for dinner in a matter of minutes. This is all their fault. If they had been there they would have seen what had happened & yelled at me to not step back.

Of course I knew that it wouldn’t have really been that way. If anything I would have still stepped back & rolled on it from them trying to warn me & probably cut myself a lot worse. By the time they arrived it had been a few minutes. I was wanting to hold it tight for a bit to see if I could stop the bleeding. I didn’t know how deep it was & didn’t really want to look. I finally did & they joked that they wanted to see. I went in the bathroom & unwrapped my foot & knew that the dinner would have to go on without me as I needed to go to the ER.

I was such a good hostess though. As I was getting ready to leave I told everyone where I was in the dinner process. Where they could find all the ingredients, the recipes, & any miscellaneous items. I left. My guy (well not my guy at the time but you know what I mean) came out to watch me leave & I waived goodbye.

I ended up with 10 stitches. I had never had a stitch in my life. My first one (or ten) happened when I was almost 27 years old. I did not pay attention to my doctors advice to not drink. I actually took a shot of whiskey in the parking lot after being picked up. I lived in wright county at the time so I’m sure there was at least one other person doing the exact same thing. My friends had been having fun in the 3 hours that I spent in the ER. They managed to make dinner and saved me a plate. They waited to have the tiramisu until I got back. We hung out & I didn’t have to get up once.

That part of my life seems so long ago but it’s really only been 6 years. It’s amazing what can change in 6 years. In that time my guy and I figured out where we wanted to be in terms of our relationship. We moved to Almost Canada. We got married & just celebrated our one year anniversary. We have a whole new life.

We actually hosted an Italian night with friends we have made up here. Of course I offered to make the tiramisu. It made me remember my first tiramisu & how horribly ugly it looked. I wish I had a photo. When I told my guy I was making tiramisu for dessert all he said was… ‘make sure you cut it correctly this time.’ I guess he never forgot that evening either or at least the tiramisu.

I did make this one appropriately with the exception of doing 2 layers instead of 3 as I don’t think my knife skills are up to par to make thirds. That’s OK though. It was fun hosting. Everyone seemed to enjoy the tiramisu & I didn’t end up in the ER. I’d call that a success.

Another Good Year for Hunting

by almost_rosey // 3Dec2016 // No Comments

I was excited once again to go deer hunting this year. Last year (my 2nd year of deer hunting) I harvested my first deer which was an 8 point buck. Not big enough to go on the wall but a great trophy for me. A good deer any year. An amazing deer for my first deer.

I was excited to go back out since last year had been such a good year for me with getting a turkey & a deer. I was also excited to go out cause my guy had gotten pulled for a bear tag. He sat 2 times and that second sit he harvested a bear. His first ever. And with a bow no less. He told me bears were in bow hunting distance so he thought he would give it a try & he succeeded.

Seeing as how he was successful with his bear he ended up going bow hunting for a deer once October hit. His first sit he harvested a doe. He sat 3 times and harvested 2 big game animals. I thought to myself this year is another great year for hunting. Maybe I’ll be lucky two years in a row. Plus, I got a doe tag this year. That is when I remembered the idiots who hunted the same area we hunted. I was hoping that they would be discouraged & not show up this year but I wasn’t so lucky. Walking to my stand opening morning a vehicle drives up on the trail behind me & it’s them. Great. Opening weekend reached a high of 70 degrees which is terrible but now I’m not going to see anything cause of these guys who drive down the trail & smoke in their stands.

They stop & ask if I’m the one in the ladder stand. I say yes. They tell me they are the ones who are hunting in the other stands just like last year. When asked how they do they say the got a couple deer last year & in my head I say bullshit. They were only there opening weekend. There is no way they got a deer. They ask me. I respond that I got a deer & the guy’s eyes widen. I could tell he was surprised. I think, Why would you be surprised if you had gotten deer?

I did see some does opening day but that was it. I ended up leaving at 10AM both days cause it was too warm. At least those guys will be gone. They only hunt opening weekend which means I’ll have the place all to myself. I’m lucky enough that I can alter my work schedule and go hunting before or after work. I went three times that first week and saw some deer but didn’t have shots at any of them. How is that possible you ask? Well I’ll tell you.

I hunt public land. Don’t laugh. I’m proud of it. I’m not just sitting in a box stand overlooking a field & being able to take pretty much any shot. I have to work for it. You have to scout & find land & find signs of deer. It’s also bow hunting distances so you have to take scent control seriously, pay attention to the wind, & be extra quiet. It’s fairly thick woods so I only have about 4 shots I can take. The deer have to walk down these certain trails to be able to take a shot. It’s not as bad as it sounds though. It’s actually pretty great. It feels more like hunting. As I said before, I also get to hunt before or after work so I’m not relying just on weekends. So when you think oh poor her for hunting public land let me ask how many animals you’ve taken in the past two years. Between me & my guy (guide) we’ve harvested 5 big game animals in two years. Which brings me to my announcement that I did harvest a deer this year. A doe. Which is what I wanted since I was lucky enough to get a doe tag (you only get them every 3-4 years where I hunt).

It was the second weekend. We went out Saturday afternoon and it was so close. There were two does but I didn’t have good shots at them. My guy trained me to wait for a perfect shot. We went out Sunday morning and it was so windy. It’s hard to hear the deer when it’s windy. I have to rely on sound to hear them coming since my visibility is not over an open field. The wind was in the wrong direction to make it even worse. In the morning they tend to come from one direction & in the afternoon the other. The wind was going right into the direction they come form in the morning so I was thinking it was pointless.

That’s when my guy said to me, there is a doe. Get ready. I could not see a deer for the life of me. There were too many trees in my view compared to my guys. All of a sudden there she was. I couldn’t believe it. She had completely snuck up on us cause it was so windy but she came from the wrong direction. She came from the direction that they normally come in the afternoon so the wind actually worked in my favor.

I started to position my rifle into my shoulder & rested it on the shooting rest. She started to turn away but then went down the perfect trail. My guy yelled & she stopped & looked. I shot & she ran away. I’ve never had an animal run away. My first deer last year hit the ground like a sack of bricks cause it was more in his spine & I had to go up to him & do one more shot. My doe ran but it sounded weird. Very noisy like she was running into everything & her tail was down. I heard a crash & then nothing. We waited a bit and then went to try & find her. I’ve never had to track an animal but it was easy. It was day time & there was a trail of blood. It looked like the trail ended & I was confused but then I looked to my right & saw the trail had taken a turn & there she was lying against a tree. I went up to her & she was dead. One shot. Thank goodness. I can’t stand having animals suffer & it should be a one shot kill at all times if possible.

My guy then proceeded to teach me how to field dress a deer. I put on gloves and started the process. I did a decent chunk but then he came in to show me how to pull everything out. It all comes out in a nice little bag if you do it properly & had a god shot. We were able to see that I had just nicked her heart & double lunged her & it passed out the other side. It was about as perfect of a shot as you can get. He dragged her back to our stand & then I dragged her out of the woods by myself. You want a tough workout try dragging a deer out of the woods. I don’t know what I’d do if it was a monster buck.

We hung her in the garage for a week cause it was cool enough and the following weekend my guy taught me how to remove the hide, quarter her, & deal with the meat. He helped with the hide & quartering cause it’s pretty tough, but I cut up all the meat, cleaned it, and vacuum sealed it. It took a few hours both days that weekend. I’m sure the next time will go a bit more quickly.

I have been extremely lucky with my hunting experiences thus far. I’ve had the opportunity to see deer, take the shots, & have made the shots. I’ve learned how to track & how to harvest the meat which is very important to me. I feel it is very important to be self-sufficient & the skills I have learned are priceless. I can’t thank my guide enough for helping me. I know I still have a lot to learn. I also know I won’t always be successful but I will always have these memories.

A Good Year for Hunting

by almost_rosey // 21Dec2015 // 1 Comment

I had a lot of hope going into this deer season. I had gotten pulled for a turkey tag and harvested my first turkey in the spring, maybe I would get to harvest a deer this fall. Perhaps this was my hunting year. Unfortunately I didn’t get a doe tag, but my hunting guide and I found a new hunting spot and there was plenty of deer sign. It was close quarters, pretty much bow hunting distances, with my possible shots being anywhere from 40-70 yards at most. I was a little worried about this at first, but when you don’t own land those 100+ yard shots in open fields just don’t exist. My hunting guide put in a lot of work finding this spot for me and it was starting to feel right.

On deer opener I saw the northern lights. I know it sounds crazy but this too gave me hope for a good hunting season. I can’t explain why. Maybe it’s because I rarely actually see them. Maybe I was just looking for any sort of hopeful sign. I needed something to hope for after last deer season, my first deer season. Last year was a terrible year for deer. It was cold. Brutally cold. It was windy. You wouldn’t have been able to hear a deer if it sat down right next to you. I barely saw any deer. I really just wanted to see some deer this year even if I couldn’t take a shot.

Walking to my stand I saw a shooting star. I thought, this is it. This is my year. I’m going to harvest a deer. I was sitting in my stand and it was about 15 minutes before shooting light and what do I hear? Not a deer. It’s some bozo that was walking through the woods waving a flashlight. He was literally stumbling and charging his way through the trees. I’m sure he lost his path but what concerned me most was where he was going. He walked by and I found out he was hunting about 50 yards away from me. I couldn’t believe it. He then had the audacity to say, “good luck” to me. I was horribly discouraged. This isn’t the cities where people hunt on top of each other. How could this be? I tried to tell myself it would be OK. Then I saw another shooting star. Maybe it would be OK.

At about 8:30AM a spike buck was walking towards where I would actually be able to take a shot. I’m watching him come down the trail that leads to a perfect shooting lane for me. I couldn’t believe it. Was I going to tag out my first morning? My heart was beating through my chest. Then he stopped, turned, and took off in the other direction. Of course. He wasn’t downwind from me but he was directly downwind from the bozo 50 yards off of me. I didn’t see any more deer that day or the next. I also found out that the guy who was hunting off of me had built a permanent stand on state land and was driving down a 4-wheeler trail to get to our hunting area. Not only that, he was smoking in his stand because there were cigarette butts all underneath it. No wonder we weren’t seeing deer. I was just hoping he wasn’t a local or that he was just a weekend hunter.

I’m lucky enough that I can hunt during the week. One of the benefits about where I live is that I can hunt in the morning or afternoon and adjust my work schedule accordingly. I went out Monday morning and about 15 minutes before shooting light I heard a good sound. Instead of some guy crashing through the woods it was a deer. I don’t know if it was a doe or a buck because I couldn’t see anything, but I it walked by me by probably only 30 yards. I was once again hopeful.

Tuesday afternoon we went out to see if there was more activity during that time. I saw two deer. One was a doe for sure and I think one was a buck but it was too far away to be sure. I was so relieved to actually be seeing deer. The weather looked like it was about to change on Thursday. The temperature was dropping and it looked like snow was possible. My guide said that Wednesday afternoon might be a really good day to hunt due to the weather moving through.

Walking to my stand on Wednesday afternoon I could smell a doe. It smelled like the drag we had been using but obviously more fresh and a bit more skunky in my opinion. I was hoping that a buck would also be in the area. I got to my stand and felt really hopeful. It was November 11th. Eleven eleven, make a wish. As I was sitting there I kept thinking that this was it, this would be the day. I could hear a deer all over the place. It was over here and then it was over there. I thought I was going crazy. Was this one deer or a few deer?

My guide then whispered to me that there was a deer. I looked straight ahead and saw a doe at the edge of the thick woods. I looked at him and said, “It’s just a doe.” He then looked at me and said there was a buck behind her. I looked back at where she was standing and she was still staring at me. Assessing the situation, so I thought. She then darted out and I saw a buck coming out after her. Initially I tried to bring my gun up quietly because I’m thinking I don’t want him to hear me and turn back. So silly. I could have had bells on and he wouldn’t have cared. He just wanted one thing. I was shaking like a leaf as I tried to bring my gun up to look through my scope. At first I couldn’t see through it but I shifted, I got my sight on him, and found what I like to call the deer square. I call it that cause we have a deer target for shooting our bows at in the yard and there is a square where you aim at. I locked in on his deer square and moved my rifle along with him as he walked. My guide said he was going to try and stop him. I didn’t respond. I just stayed locked on his square. My guide yelled at the buck but he kept moving. There was a moment where I thought about taking a shot when he was still walking but I didn’t. My guide then yelled again. The buck stopped dead in his tracks, he looked right at me, and I pulled the trigger.

What happened next was almost like a cartoon. I swear it looked like his legs got kicked out from underneath him and he hit the ground hard. I quickly ejected my shell and put in another round thinking he was going to get up and run. I took a breath and exhaled. I was shaking. I couldn’t believe it. It all happened so fast. It was a matter of 2 minutes at most that all this happened in. It was like the hunting shows on TV. My buck didn’t get up. He tried, but I had essentially spined him and he couldn’t get up. I went over to him after a few minutes. He looked at me as I stood by him and then he layed his head down. I think he knew what was about to happen. I fired the finishing shot and then he stopped moving. My guide went to grab some things so we could field dress him and I thanked my deer. I thanked him for his life, for this experience, & for the food that I would get from him. I felt terrible. I felt exhilarated. It’s a very weird feeling to take another life. Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up hunting. I never got desensitized to it. Maybe you never do get used to it.

This year has been a good year for many things. It has especially been a good year for hunting.

The 2015 MN State Fair

by almost_rosey // 19Sep2015 // No Comments

The Minnesota State Fair came and it left. I attended with my fishing guide. It is something we do every year. Every year is almost the same, yet we keep going back. I am not sure how to explain that.

We always eat a corn dog

Cheese Curds

Pork Chop on a Stick

And Ice Cream from the dairy barn (sorry it got half eaten before the photo)

Normally we try to find new foods at the fair. Generally this has been New Fair Foods for the year. This year we weren’t that impressed. Instead we decided to just try some things we don’t normally eat.

We got mini donuts. I haven’t had these in years but they were perfect at 8:30AM for breakfast with a coffee. The sugar was all at the bottom but just give them a shake and they are good to go.

We also tried an egg roll. It doesn’t look like much but for $2 it is a nice snack.

Later on we ended up going back to the same place as the egg roll and considered buying chicken on a stick. The guy in front of us heard us and turned around. He gave us the most serious look and said, “you better do it.” The tone in his voice was grave. If we didn’t get this chicken than surely there would be hell to pay. We did and it was one of my new favorite foods! I am looking forward to eating it again next year.

We also walk around the same places. We look at the same things: ice castles, snowmobiles and ATVs, crafts, baked goods (I almost always buy some local honey which I did this year), and the animals. No birds this year due to the bird flu. We also people watch. There are so many “interesting” people at the fair.

We always end up at the craft beer flights.

They have tables outside and you usually end up sharing a table with others. We were able to get a table for just us initially but then two couples that were there together asked if they could join. We of course said yes. Then the state fair craft beer conversation starts.

Where are you from? What do you do? Everyone is always amazed we live in Almost Canada. The people you encounter at the craft beer area are different yet the same. Many are pretentious (if you do not mind my quick judgement) and many are weird.

I’m sure they think various things about us, but it doesn’t matter. It’s fun. It’s interesting. It’s always an experience at the craft beer booth. You never know where the conversation is going to go. It’s like going to the bar but better because it’s at the fair.

Seeing those two couples together at the fair made me reminisce of years past. It goes without saying that my fishing guide and I haven’t always been together. We have known each other since high school but only in the past few years did we end up together.

Before we were a couple, we were in relationships with other people but friends. Couple friends like these two couples we saw at the fair. We actually used to go to the fair together as couple friends.

Those days seem so long ago. I’m not saying I want those days back but seeing those couples together just reminded me of where I was and where I am now. It makes me wonder where I will be in the future. How will I be different? What will next year bring?

Almost certainly the next year will bring the Minnesota State Fair. If for some reason we don’t end up going it doesn’t really matter. I know it will always be there for us. It is full of fun, food, activities, and memories. Old ones, but more importantly, making new ones.

Seared Ahi Tuna

by almost_rosey // 16Aug2015 // No Comments

I moved to Almost Canada two years ago this fall. Making the decision was easy but involved a lot of sacrifice. My guy sacrificed everything to move with me. One of the things he gave up was his career as an accountant.

The job opportunities are bleak to say the least where we live. They basically include the company I work for and a lot of dead end jobs. Since he has moved with me he has been on unemployment, worked at a bait/outdoors store, he became an ice fishing guide, & he has been doing lawn care/landscaping.

He often used to talk about how this town was eating him alive. That he didn’t have any chances to succeed.

He ended up pursuing one of the only opportunities here which was becoming a boat captain. Something that is not that easy to do. The application is rather extensive and it takes quite a bit of time & cash. When it came down to it, he made it happen.

He got his Captain’s License!

I couldn’t be more proud of him. My fishing guide is now a professional fishing guide.

This is something he has talked about for awhile and it is finally a reality. He has even gotten some experience on the lake and has taken people out a few times on his own despite the season being half over.

Even though this has been a long time in the making, and he is thrilled to be able to do this, being on a boat is no walk in the park. It’s hot, it’s windy, people get sick, the fishing is slow & your customers are upset, the list goes on.

Despite the list of negatives this isn’t the worst job in the world & it is a consistent seasonal position. It’s one of the few seasonal opportunities around that actually pays OK & there might be some chances for growth. Life doesn’t always give you the best opportunities but it’s how you deal & what you make of them.

The same is true for grocery shopping in this small town. It’s impossible to get anything here so you have to adapt. I cannot get many items here. I most certainly cannot get quality sushi, but I can have it overnighted by a company to my door! Sushi grade fish delivered right to me. An opportunity that I simply could not pass up.

Seared Ahi Tuna Salad (serves 2)

11 oz sashimi grade ahi tuna
salt & pepper
oil
salad of your choice (I used a salad kit with sunflower seeds and a citrus onion dressing)

If the tuna is frozen allow it to come to room temperature in the fridge. Do not let it sit on the counter. Cut the tuna into two pieces. Season with salt and pepper. Heat a small amount of olive oil in a skillet and sear the tuna on all sides for 1-2 minutes per side until. Slice and serve over salad of your choice.

Summer of Rhubarb: Pound Cake with Rhubarb Sauce

by almost_rosey // 16Jun2015 // No Comments

In for a penny, in for a pound.

A phrase I am not too familiar with. I am not that type of a person. I don’t have an all or nothing mentality. I am fine with moderation. I am content with not taking high-stakes risks. Although sometimes you do have to take them. There are moments when the world presents you with opportunities which are all or nothing.

That’s what happened to me 2 years ago. I went ice fishing up north with my guy and said that I wanted to move there. He agreed. We wanted to leave the cities, the constant rushing around, the rat-race as they say. I jokingly began looking for jobs and realized that there were opportunities for me as a chemist in this small town in Almost Canada.

Then I got the job offer. Now things were real. It wasn’t just a dream or fantasy any longer. My guy and I had to make a choice. Do we do it? Get up and move? Change everything? Risk losing everything?

For me the risks were not that great. I had a job offer. I could easily pack up and move. My guy, however, had a house and job in the cities. He had to be willing to lose everything. We both knew that it was now or never and decided to go for it. It was time to hit the reset button.

This was easier for me. I accepted the job. I took a pay cut. I cashed out my 401K. I bought a house. I started over. My guy had a lot to lose. He did end up losing his job. And now the prospect of losing his house and credit is very real.

That was a risk he was willing to take. A risk that is becoming reality. Everything that he spent his whole life working for is disappearing.

We both went all in…In for a penny, in for a pound. I cannot thank him enough. I appreciate everything he has done. The reset button for me was fairly quick and painless. For him it has been a slow process and is still on-going. He was willing to lose everything to slow things down and move to Almost Canada with me. To actually enjoy more of life. I know when it is all said and done, by losing all these things we both are gaining so much more.

Pound Cake

1 stick butter, softened
1 1/2 cups granulated sugar
3 eggs
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/2 cup whipping cream
1 tsp vanilla

Cream together the butter and sugar until the mixture is light & fluffy (about 3-5 minutes). Mix in the eggs one at a time scraping the sides of the bowl as needed. Add the flour, salt, and baking powder all at once. Mix until combined. Add the whipping cream and mix until just incorporated. Stir in the vanilla. Pour into a buttered & lightly floured loaf pan. Place in a cold oven. Set the oven to 325F and bake for 80 minutes. Remove from the oven and let cool in pan on a wire rack for 10-15 minutes. Remove from pan and let cool completely on a wire rack.

Rhubarb Sauce

3 cups fresh or frozen rhubarb
1 cup fresh or frozen raspberries
1/2 cup water
1/2 cup granulated sugar
2 tbsp corn starch
ginger and/or cinnamon

Place the fruit (I used frozen) and water in a medium saucepan and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 5 minutes. Stir together the sugar & corn starch. Stir the mixture into the fruit. Cook for 2-3 minutes. Stir in ginger and/or cinnamon if desired (I did a few dashes of both).

Note that this recipe makes a lot of sauce. Use as a topping for ice cream or in other baked goods such as Oatmeal Rhubarb Bars which is what I did with mine.

Whipped Cream

2 tbsp sugar
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1/2 tsp vanilla

Place bowl and metal whisk in freezer for 10-15 minutes. Place sugar, cream, and vanilla in bowl. Whisk until mixture forms stiff peaks. Use immediately or place in the fridge.

My First Turkey Hunt

by almost_rosey // 27May2015 // 2 Comments

I’ve mentioned before that I did not grow up hunting, so the fact that I started when I was 30 is quite surprising. It started with deer hunting. I did not harvest a deer but I ended up with some grouse which was fantastic. After that experience I knew I could at least hunt birds (I am still unsure about the furry critters), so my guy/guide and I decided to apply for turkeys in the spring.

We applied as a group for the ‘A’ season for turkeys in an area he knew well and we got pulled! The first step was a success. Now we just had to hope we would see some turkeys and get them close enough to ‘shoot em in the lips’ as my guide says. He set up a ground blind the night before so we could arrive bright and early and wait for the turkeys.

We walked in on the first morning and got situated. We waited a little bit for the woods to quiet back down after we disturbed it and then he started calling.

Can I just say that he is so good to me! He was willing to sit with me and call for the turkeys as I had never done it before and couldn’t work the mouth call for the life of me.

Anyhow, he called out for a turkey and one gobbled right back! It sounded like he was right on top of us. It turned out that he basically was. I looked out the blind and saw a tom sitting in a tree about 30 yards away.

I couldn’t believe it. My first morning out, the first call out, and there is a trophy tom right there. My guy kept calling and he kept gobbling back. He was fluffing out his feathers looking like he was doing some morning stretches.

He evemtually jumped down from the tree and started walking right towards our decoys. I was struck in awe. This was not happening. My heart was pounding and my hands were shaking. I tried to quietly and slowly maneuver myself in the ground blind to take aim. I shot and the turkey just stood there. I kept waiting for him to fall over but he then turned around and ran. I tried to get off another shot but it was awkward leaning out of the blind. I tried to get out of the blind as quickly as I could, but by the time I did the turkey was gone.

I was dumbfounded. I hit him! I knew I did. We tried looking for him and found blood & feathers but no turkey. I felt terrible. Was he nicked or was he dying somewhere. I had no idea. I felt bad for the turkey and bad for me. I was super grumpy. I knew it was all my fault that I had not sealed the deal. He was handed over on a silver platter and I screwed it up. A trophy tom no less.

I knew exactly what I did wrong. I didn’t have a very good angle to take the shot with how I had maneuvered in the blind. I didn’t take enough breaths to calm myself. I’m not sure I took a breath at all. I definitely didn’t breathe with my shot. My inexperience showed when I didn’t try to take another shot immediately when he just stood there. We went back to the blind and tried to call in some more turkeys.

We saw lots of turkeys that day. We saw another trophy tom. We saw some jakes and some hens. It was incredible seeing all of these birds but none were close enough to take aim at.

The next day we tried moving the blind to where they seemed to be walking but they didn’t come near us. After looking at the blind and the woods it was painfully obvious why. Our blind was bright green and the woods were still very brown.

All I could think about was how I had screwed up my turkey hunt. My guide was a bit frustrated with me.

‘This is what hunting is dear. Most of the time you don’t see anything. Then when you do they have to be close enough to shoot. Then you have a chance of missing. You have to take away the good things.”

He was right. I needed to take away the good things. We had seen lots of birds. Even though I messed up and the turkey ran away, how cool was it that we walked right under him and he jumped down right in front of us. The weather was amazing: sunny, 50-70 degrees. You couldn’t have asked for a better hunting season. Plus, there was this squirrel that was running all over the place. He dug in the ground and looked like he discovered the jackpot because he quickly covered the hole back up and patted it in with his paws while looking around to make sure no one was watching him. Too funny.

I had finally come to terms with this experience and had told myself it would be OK if we didn’t get on any more turkeys.

We decided that for the last day we would hunt off of the ground with our backs to the trees, which is how I always envisioned turkey hunting in the first place, since our blind stood out like a sore thumb.

We were covered from head to toe in camo. We walked into the woods. We sat about 20 feet apart so he could call in the turkeys and we waited. We heard some far away so decided to move.

We set up against some different trees and started calling again. We were in a clearing at the top of a hill. I was sitting there & enjoying the great outdoors when a turkey walked up over the hill. My heart jumped into my throat and my stomach turned upside down.

Was I really going to get another shot? The turkey walked towards our decoy. I couldn’t tell if it was a jake or hen. I looked to my hunting guide and he shook his head signifying he couldn’t tell either.

The turkey started chirping at the decoy. I sat still. At the very least this turkey might call in some toms and act as a real live decoy for us. I kept looking for the beard but the angles were terrible as it stayed behind my decoy while walking around.

It looked like it was going to walk away and then it turned around. I saw the beard and I knew I had a jake. I looked to my guide and he was nodding at me.

The turkey puffed up his chest and started walking towards the decoy. Apparently the sweet talking hadn’t worked so now he was going to show her how big & manly he was. I slowly started to raise my gun. I positioned myself so that my gun was resting on my knee. My heart was beating fast & hard. I paused and looked to my guide and he nodded. His expression was telling me I could do this. I took aim. I breathed a couple times. I gripped my gun firmly, pulled the trigger, and he fell down instantly.

My guide yelled out a hunter’s cry of success. He came over to me and I was staring wide-eyed at the turkey who had stopped twitching almost as instantly as it had fallen down. It was a great shot. He asked me how it felt. I don’t even remember what I said. I’m assuming something like, that was crazy, that was amazing. My first big game kill.

I carried my turkey out of the woods. I registered it. The guy asked if it was my first. I’m sure it was painfully obvious I was a novice hunter by my facial expressions. Once we got back to where we were staying, my guide showed me how to clean up the turkey and we vacuum sealed it up. Now I get to cook with the wild game that I had provided. Bonus…I had barely ruined any of the meat! Hardly any of it had to be cut away so the shot really was as perfect as it could have been.

This hunting experience was incredible on so many levels. Yes, I could have had a mountable turkey, but I ended up with so much more. Hunting is more than the harvest. It’s about taking away the little things. It’s learning new skills. I gained a lot of valuable hunting experiences. I gained life insight. I left the woods that day with more than a bird.

Picked Pea Pot Pie

by almost_rosey // 10Feb2015 // No Comments

Do you ever just have bad days? Of course you do. Everyone does. My fishing guide had one the other day. This year he is not really my fishing guide. He became a real fishing guide as he needed a job. The job options up here in Almost Canada are rather bleak so he was more or less forced to work on the ice. He now brings others to fish, thus we do not get to fish. Something that is none too thrilling for our hobby of ice fishing which we are both quite passionate about. But what can you do? He needed a job.

This job is different from his previous accounting desk type jobs. He likes this job well enough but like all jobs, things set you off. You get grumpy. He called me on his way home with a grumpy & annoyed tone the other day. Our conversation was brief. He had a long day.

All his days are long actually. He gets up at 4:30 and working 12 hour days (or longer) is the norm. Consequently, I make dinner. I always made dinner before but now it is more of a necessity. I don’t mind. I love making dinner.

When he called me I had planned on making individual pot pies with biscuits. A comforting, warming dish common in Minnesota this time of year. This one would be super easy and all my ingredients were readily available. I had leftover duck already shredded, I had biscuits for the crust, and I had cream of chicken soup, cheddar cheese, herbs, and a bag of mixed veggies in the freezer for the filling.

The veggies consisted of corn, green beans, carrots, and peas. And here lied my dilemma…peas. He hates peas with a passion. I love peas and I love them in my pot pie. Needless to say he does not enjoy them at all in food. I knew today was not the day to be serving him peas. I actually burst out laughing in the kitchen imagining his reaction if I were to serve them to him. Funny to me but not to him most likely. So I set about removing the peas from my filling. It wasn’t that difficult. I just tried to scoop portions for his that didn’t contain many peas and then removed any stray peas.

When he came home and saw mini pot pies for dinner he looked pleased. When I served him his plate and put mine before me he said, “mine looks different”. I responded, “That’s because I picked out all the peas from yours.” A smile appeared on his face. And then a smile appeared on mine. We then enjoyed what little time we had left before he went to bed.

While I know that picking out peas did not cure his grumpiness completely it did lighten the mood. It is a reminder of how much I care for him. A small thing that reminds me that things aren’t as bad as one might think if all you have to do is take the time to remove some peas.

Individual Pot Pies* (serves 4)

*Note that I do not know who came up with this recipe first. I know that biscuit companies have this almost exact recipe listed on their websites but I also know that I didn’t learn it from them. I’m not sure where I learned it. I think it is one of those recipes that everyone comes up with at some point.

pack of 8 refrigerated biscuits (or make your own)
1 1/2-2 cups shredded meat (I used duck but chicken works just fine)
1 can cream of chicken soup
1/2 tsp each oregano & thyme
salt & pepper to taste
1/4 cup shredded cheddar cheese (use more if desired)
1 bag mixed vegetables or use what you have on hand (about 2- 2 1/2 cups veggies)

Preheat oven to 375F. Grease 8 muffin cups.

Cook veggies according to package directions. Place meat, veggies, soup, cheese, and seasonings in a large bowl. Mix well. Take biscuit dough and stretch each biscuit until about 1/4 in thin. The circle should be about 5-6in diameter. Place biscuits in greased muffin cups. Fill with filling until about the top of the muffin cup. Fold sides of biscuit over filling. Bake for 20 minutes until golden brown.

Heat excess filling on the stove or in the microwave. Serve pot pies with the additonal filling.

(Picture is of my pies, the ones with peas. My fishing guide’s pot pies looked the same but contained only corn, carrots, and green beans in terms of veggies)

Feeling Almost Rosey

Put Those Glasses On

Glasses On