This time of year is huge. For generations my family has participated in the annual deer hunt. As a child I remember packing up the car and heading to the shack where my mom cooked on a genuine wood stove and we all slept in a room filled with full size bunk beds. Nights were filled with card games, and on Sunday everyone watched the football game on a tiny black and white television sitting on an old white refrigerator.
Now my house fills with family and text messages fly to see if anyone is seeing those elusive deer. Not just my family, but my brother and his family who are miles away, but we still are in each other's pockets.
Mr. B likes me to be out in the woods with him. So, I spent the last few days, sixteen feet in the air, sitting in a tiny wooden structure with all the windows open. I froze, froze, froze and watched the squirrels carry apples up into trees and leave them in the crooks of branches.Today, I have to get food for Thanksgiving and run errands. In truth, my whole body aches and all I want to do is write. In January when the holidays are over and the snowy days seem endless, I will pull out these memories and smile.
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