my favorite tradition




Nate turned seven today.  He was born on a thursday, which I will always remember, because after everyone left the hospital that night he and I cuddled up in the bed to watch ER.  I wasn’t being neglectful; he was sleeping on my chest and the nurses all chided me for not putting him in the nursery and getting eight hours of sleep.  And, it was the ONLY tv I watched the whole time we were there (which was extra since he wouldn’t nurse) and I suppose I feel guilt about this, hence the defensiveness. 

So, Happy Birthday, Nathan! 

The other day we went to the post office to mail packages.  (Duh.)  Anyhow, I was in line between two men.  In front of me was a former post office employee (this is a smallish town, so everyone in line — including me — knew or at least recognized him) and behind me was a man who knew him really well.  The guy behind me was also convinced that I could not carry my boxes and kept offering to help and finally just picked them up and moved them before I could at one point.  That irked me because they were not heavy at all.  But what really made me want to beat the living crap out of the pair of them was the twenty-plus minute conversation they had about hunting.  The following topics were covered.  At great fucking length.

  • deer jerky
  • superior flavor of young deer vs. older ones
  • big racks
  • venison
  • elk jerky
  • how to properly make jerky
  • rabbit
  • wild pigs
  • the altitudes where one may find wild pigs
  • what kind of portable, battery-operated saw is good to bring when hunting wild pigs, because it really cuts through the bone and makes it easier to carry the carcass (h.u.r.l.)
  • goose
  • duck (the former worker doesn’t care for it.  no matter HOW it is prepared.  I KNOW THIS because the man behind me asked every combination of the "how about this way?" question possible)

I feel like there was more, but this happened a couple of days ago and I had to wait for typepad to get repaired to blog it.  That makes me sound bitter, but I’m not.  I think it generally runs very smoothly and I am happy with it.  I wasn’t even paid to say that.  It’s genuine.  I heart typepad.  Time to go clean up and finish the tree.  Hopefully I will also find the sewing needle I lost in the living room while we were making the popcorn and cranberry strings.  Tonight I will make cranberry bread, because I bought three bags of cranberries when we really only needed about a half a bag.

7 thoughts on “my favorite tradition

  1. TitanKT

    Aw, Jen, will you hate me if I tell you we had deer liver fajitas for dinner tonight? My dad hunts and we all do so enjoy venison. I guess you’re a vegetarian?

    I can understand some people not liking the whole death and stew cycle, but in our defense we do at least NEVER, EVER kill anything we’re not prepared to eat. And not just the best bits, either… the entire thing. Absolutely, positively no trophy hunting here.

    No, I’m not trying to convince you or anyone else and I’m only mildly trying to defend myself… really, to each his own. I just hope you’ll forgive me for being a carnivore! 🙂

  2. capello

    okay, i’m a bad person. we are carnivores, but i still prefer to be in denial of where *that* part of our diet comes from (except, of course, that it be hormone and antibiotic free and organic. i’m in denial, but i’m not *stupid*).

    anyway, i feel for you, having to listen to such conversation for over 20 minutes. makes my stomach turn just reading your entry. ewww…

  3. Belinda

    Oh, I love cranberries. I like to put ’em in a saucepan with orange juice and a splash of lemon juice and a truckload of sugar and simmer and simmer and simmer it forever and make a nice compote. MMMMMM!!!! And cranberry scones, and bread, and granola…dang. I’m gonna have to go get some!

  4. Lin

    LOVE your photos…sitting on the floor with the kids, needles and thread at the ready, and the cranberries and popcorn. Beautiful. Tree is gorgeous, too. Hunting stuff not so pretty!

  5. jenB

    people want to help carry your boxes because you look like a cute little pixie and they want your pixie dust.

    oh dear, i should go to sleep.


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