Eleanor loved deer hunting. She would get a deer every year. She had Parkinson’s. If you can imagine the barrel of her gun swaying in a figure 8 — she knew just when to pull the trigger and she was a dead eye shot. Though to watch her shoot — you’d think she’d never hit the broad side of a barn. For 2 weeks of every December she would pull on ALL. THE. CLOTHES. Take her 30.06 out into the woods around the cabin and be gone till after dark (unless she got her deer). She was always the last one in. Everyone fended for themselves as far as food went for those 2 weeks.

My father-in-law, on the other hand, would get his buck the first day of the season and be back in the cabin by the fireplace with a snifter of blackberry brandy in hand warming his bones. Usually by lunch.

My mother-in-law would put me on a deer stand, build me a fire and then go off to her own chosen stand. As soon as the fire went out — I’d head back to the cabin to hang out with my father-in-law. To another fire & that brandy to warm me.

My husband would be high up in the mountain by day break in his happy place — alone in the woods with Nature. For him it was a holy experience.

And that is the deer hunting/brandy tale. :)

I do love the cardinal. I have a couple pair that bicker over my feeder. I love them. Myth has it when you see a cardinal — it’s a loved one come back to visit you. Did you know that? HHMMMMM