Team Riley Ice Fishing Derby

So I thought of my good old blog today at a random time: so I went to get my oil changed at my family mechanics (one of my dad's good friends) and noticed that he was wearing this wonderful blue bracelet that I happen to hold dear to my heart. It reads "Living the Life of Riley"- my dad and I sold it to him well over a year ago, and he was still wearing it. Then I thought, oh gosh I never blogged about the ice fishing derby! Duhh. So first off, who is Riley for those of you that don't know. My cousin Riley is a caring, loving, beautiful, fun 7 year old in 2011 (which, as far as I'm concerned, he is still all of those things!). Everything was normal. I was starting my first semester at URI and three days into a new school and new place, I got a phone call from my grim sounding father on a Wednesday. You know when a tragedy happens and you remember every detail of what was happening around you when it happened or when you heard about it? Yeah, that was this night. My dad reluctantly told me "Moll, your cousin Riley has a brain tumor". I didn't really know what to do other than cry. A brain tumor? He's 7! 7 year- olds are not supposed to get brain tumors! And he was a fine, normal kid! Nothing was wrong with him! I was so scared for him, for my family. That Friday, he went to Boston Children's Hospital to get surgery to see just what was up with this tumor. I arrived at the hospital that Friday night to find my family devastated- Riley had brain cancer. I remember Riley that night, after getting a horrifying surgery for even the bravest of adults, woke up with a smile and said
"Hi Molly, and is anyone else coming to see me?" The hospital time continued for Riley all the way thru Christmas, when he was finally allowed to come home for a month. He was still so cheerful after undergoing painful chemo and radiation treatment. His mother, grandparents, and aunts threw great family parties to so we could spend time with Riley, and his mom even threw a fantastic birthday party for him (he turned 8), even with a surprise visit from Rob Ninkovich from the Patriots (who has become a pretty close friend to Riley's mom and grandparents!). He went back to Boston after some time home and continued his treatment. Our visits continued to Boston- you know I really love someone if I drive through Boston for them, because this girl does not do cities- and Riley continued to remain optimistic. In April, treatments were going extremely well, and doctors believed that he could rid himself of the tumors and possibly become cancer-free by 2013. Everyone was so hopeful. We had many scares, but we all seriously believed that wow, he was really doing so great. He was in every way a hero and a fighter: he was strong, determined, optimistic, and so wise. Towards the end of April, though, we got horrible news. His condition seriously declined in a matter of days. Riley fought so hard, but we lost him on June 9, 2012. My family has been and will be forever changed by this but the moral of the story is: we are all so blessed to have had Riley in our lives, even if it was for so short of a time. So, to rally for some funds for Riley and his mom while they were in Boston, we all sold blue bracelets reading "Living the Life of Riley". You know how people just wear those rubber bracelets all the time? Well these rubber bracelets aren't just an accessory, they are a piece of my heart. See, Riley, in his 8 years of life, had it all figured out. He understood that life wasn't about your possessions, looks, the way you dress, where you live, any of that crap. Riley realized that life was about the relationships you have and the love you share with people. He knew to treat everyone with kindness, patience, and love. He always asked "if anyone else was coming" because he valued personal relationships and time with family and loved ones. How many of us can honestly say that we are that kind of person? I know I can't. One day when I visited, Riley hadn't eaten in 4 days! 4 days! And he wasn't freaking out or anything, he just kindly kept asking the nurses if he could have some food because he was hungry. Okay, I would have killed 20 people by then. Obviously, his mother was so strong and incredible and amazing- she instilled these values in her son in 8 short years. That is something people fail to accomplish in their lifetimes. So anyways, in Riley's legacy, my family has been attending events, Riley events, with our "Riley Superhero" banner that my uncle (Riley's grandpa) made. So that [finally, sorry for the long story!] brings me to the Metacomet Fishing Derby held January 27, 2012. Riley and his grandpa had a long history at this derby. Actually, they won a few times and made it in the newspaper for biggest trout! Riley loved this derby, as did my whole family. I spent many years of my childhood attending this derby, and I even won a few times too! So we made a team for the derby for the first year. We were determined to fish for Riley. There was a lot of heart backing this team, not just booze, snow machines, and charcoal buckets (though we did have a snow machine and charcoal bucket, and ya know a few kicks of peppermint schnapps if needed). So, at the crack of dawn as in 4AM!!! our team woke up after a massive sleepover to get geared up for the derby. At 5AM, -6 degrees outside, my dad and I were on the 4-wheeler dragging the sleds across the lake in the pitch black. Somehow, we lucked out to have a full moon so I guess it wasn't pitch black. My little cousin Maizy, Riley's cousin, was telling us about the full moon. Apparently at her school they called it the "Wolf moon" and all the little kids were scared of it (okay, if you've read the 3 little pigs as a kid, you know wolves mean business, like, they knock pigs houses down) but Maizy said that "the wolf moon is her friend, even though he followed her all the way home!". Whelp, luckily the wolf moon stayed friends with us and made our morning a lot easier! By 5:30 AM, the team was assembled and setting up camp and drilling holes by the light of the wolf. Tip ups were in the water by 6AM and we were ready to rumble. So unfortunately, our hearts were a lot bigger than our lucky horseshoes. We caught a BUNCH of small pickerel and perch, and a few trout not big enough to be worth anything. Aka, Team Riley did not win the derby. But here's the thing: we had an awesome family day. It brought all of us together outside for a day on the ice of socializing, fishing, and eating delicious charcoal bucket foods (if you haven't eaten a charcoal bucket cheeseburger at 8AM for lunch, you haven't lived). So, even though we didn't win the derby, we were still "Living the Life of Riley". My cousin Sam caught her first fish ice fishing! I learned that I am capable of ice fishing by myself because I was basically the "son my dad doesn't have" [well, my dad has a son, but he's not into freezing his ass off at 5AM on a lake dipping his hands in freezing water- brother J, I don't blame you buddy]. But, who am I kidding, I love it. I hate getting up at 6:30AM for school, but I was up at 4AM for ice fishing, ready to go. Something about being outside, smelling the fresh air, catching your own food (well, we didn't keep anything, but usually we do), observing the natural world around, and enjoying being a part of something other than the dent that is forming from your ass in the couch, just calls to me. I love it. I can't get enough of it. That is my legacy to "Live the Life of Riley"- do what makes me happy. Be with the people I love, and soak up the things that bring me joy and happiness.

Flag! Umm, definitely a little pickerel on there.

Going for a ride! With a cooler of fish!

Duke's way of coping with the cold- begging for snacks.

Other Pictures Because I Can

Duke, like the rest of us, after the holidays. Super fat, super tired.

The BEST Christmas pajamas ever. Okay, you can do anything in these. Run, jump, flip, play games, bake, ice skate (haven't tried ice skating yet).

Okay, so I know this picture makes you want a pair for sure. Built in butt flap? I know you're sold. They are called "Lazy Ones" you should probably buy one (or 10).

Early morning on Laurel Lake! Beautiful!

Pulling up a perch. Honestly, I just want a damn trout or salmon okay perch, go away.

Heyoooo pickle (I know it's actually a pickerel, but I call them pickles- why? Because I love the "I've got a pickle" song from Little Rascals and like to sing it when I catch one. I would say don't judge me, but if you've been reading this, you know I'm a unique person already)

Wait, Molly and Scott dress up? Rarely, but yes. Aren't we just so dang cute?

Why Are there Underwear on his Tip- Ups?

Last years tiger trout! This years were definitely not as pretty colored!

 So after our rainbow trout tragedy, obviously dad and I had to get back out on the ice. It was a Friday afternoon and POURING rain. Obviously, pouring rain isn't going to stop us. We figured hey, drill our holes right near the parking lot and sit in the truck and wait for flags. I know, lazy way out, but better than getting drenched (obviously, I did that enough hunting this season!) Total diversion, the dog is sleeping next to me and he's twitching like crazy. Anyways, so we get there around 4 in the afternoon, only an hour to fish but whatever, enough for us! So there was one other poor bastard on the ice fishing near the parking lot, but he was sitting out in the rain. Crazy man! So dad and I were sliding all over the place. Ice + water= fall and break your back. So we drilled our 10 holes and started walking towards the truck, but bang bang! 2 flags up. I lost whatever I had, but dad had a tiger trout chasing around his shiner. When we are trout and salmon fishing, we set our shiners right under the ice. When we are fishing for other stuff, perch, pickerel, crappie, etc., we set about 2 feet off the bottom. We usually do a good variety of right under the ice and far down just to have the best chance of catching anything! People go to Laurel Lake for the day and set only for trout and salmon, and I've witnessed people not even having a flag, ALL DAY! Talk about boorrinnnggg.. [Dog is now snoring and twitching]. So since our set was right under the ice, we could watch this tiger trout striking and playing with this shiner. Dad's philosophy is that trout and salmon hit the shiner head on, so we set our hooks ahead of the dorsal fin. Sure enough, when the tiger trout was done playing, he slammed the shiner head on and we hooked him up. He was a little stockie, so we let him back but I LOVE the markings on tiger trout. I caught one beauty (picture) last year! Anyways, so we let that tiger trout go, and another flag went up. I pulled up a beautiful brown trout (tried to get a picture with him, but my parents don't know how to operate cameras: seriously). Then the tiger trout hole flag went up again and I pulled up another tiger trout (picture attempt (FAIL) below haha). At this point, we notice the other guy glaring at us. He's walking towards us to one of his tip-ups so my dad decides to walk towards him to see how he's been doing. My dad gets 3/4 the way to this guy and the guy turns around and walks away. Um, dad got the SHUT DOWN! I was cracking up hysterically. Obviously, this man was very pissed with us. At this time, dad and I obviously have to start picking this dude apart. Seriously, sass move! First problem: his tip-ups. They looked like little jigging rods attached to a stand. Um, people, I know technology has advanced, but what is wrong with traditional tip-ups? They are cheap, efficient, easy to use, and you can see everything beneath the hole using them! Oh, easy to repair too. Duct tape, anyone? While we are examining these fancy spancy tip ups, we got another hit and my dad pulled up a nice rainbow trout! We caught and released all the fish, we just wanted to do a little fishing! So after the rainbow we were like okay seriously fish, stop hitting we are getting soaked. No kneeling to pull in fish, just squatting, and after doing P90X legs, um holy tolito I was not feeling the squats! So we went in the truck to dry off and my mom's sitting in there she goes "That guy is NOT happy with you two!" The guy was packing up his stuff at this time, clearly um pissed! So when he's pulling up his probably $50 fancy tip ups, my dad goes "what the hell are those?" Mom goes "hm, they look like Christmas tree skirts" Dad goes, full out ranting "God, people these days, got their fandangled fancy ass fishing gear with underwear on it. Who wants fishing gear with underwear? Oh, I've gotta put the skibbies on my tip-up before it gets fishing!! How the hell is he going to see if the line is moving? Whats that little rod for? A midget!?" We gave the angry man a friendly wave as he left, and he returned it with a pretty scary glare. I swear, we are lucky we didn't get any more flags when he was there, or he would have probably grabbed his auger, threw it on the ice and yelled "HORSESHIT!" and stomped around, and with the stomping probably would have fell on his already soaking wet ass. So, after grumpy gills left, we cleaned up our tip ups and I got kind of stuck on the ice. We needed to walk up an icy hill to get to the truck, but dummy forgot her ice picks yet again. I got halfway up the hill and did the duck flap like pleaseee let me get up the hill. Noope, slid back down. Same thing happened again, but more flapping, and my dad decided to help my pathetic ass self. Anyone feel bad for my dad and boyfriend yet? The stuff they have to deal with, I swear they are saints.

Why is this picture upside down? I don't know you tell me. Anyways, that's a rainbow coming out of the hole!

Nice tiger trout I've got, can't you see it? The trout decided that posing for 5 minutes was not it's deal since ya know my parents cannot operate cameras. I always look so attractive when fish are diving out of my hands- hot [mess]

I should be saying "my preciousssssssss" and take a bite out of the trout. Seriously, need to kneel. Squatting= badonkadonk bigger than Fuzzy's!

Oh Boy, We've Got Another Case of the "Daddy, HELP's"

So I haven't blogged in a while. Why? Because I'm a sporadic blogger. I remember "oh, I should write in my blog" and then oh, I don't. So here's the catch up. Hunting season was, well a typical season for me minus ya know breaking my ankle. See that beautiful beast to your left there? Yeah him. Well, I'm sitting in a good hunting spot in Richmond, MA. My dad and his buddy Dennis are like "oh, we are going to do a push for you like you should see a deer and ya know be able to shoot it". Good, awesome. It was a nice day um I didn't even have to wear my 30 pound wool coat (WIN!). So I'm sitting on my rock in the woods waiting for um something so I figured ya know why not use my deer call make some buck noises, maybe I'll piss off some pig (like the one of the left). So I make a few good buck grunts and sit back. Then I hear gobbling I'm like oh, stupid ass turkeys them BOOM. Buck was heading right for me, but Dennis was waiting to push for me that hey the sucker walked right into him. Dressed out at 146. Whatthehell! So I shot a tree to make myself feel better, then had to reload the goddamn muzzleloader after, which sucked (especially because I got tree bark stuck in the rod thing and then had to sit down with my knife and dig the stupid bark out- this girl is a disaster). Anyways, so Scott came home to visit for Christmas and hey! His little brother went outside for like, 5 minutes and shot a deer (kids 12). Scott said he had a lucky horseshoe up his ass. Well taking a kid with a lucky horseshoe up his ass hunting is better than a rabbits foot, eating copious amounts of cookies, and all the shit. So, Nate and Scott come up to hunt. Which, obviously, was a fail. Nate's feet got sore within like an hour. My dad and I kept on truckin further into the woods. The wind was howling and trees were falling all over- I know, safe. We had a doe and buck permit so if it was brown, it was down. So, we jump 4 deer. I've got a good gun, and a scope, and all that but I was so frickin flustered with all the deer running that I didn't even know what to do other than freak out in my head and not even shoot like a dumbass. After that, it snowed pretty heavy and honestly, I was just too lazy to go walking in 16 inches of snow- can you blame me? So, another year without a deer. Fail. So that was the close of 2012, bringing on 2013. Scott headed back to Alaska (boo) and I decided to do something I'm actually good at- ice fishing. Dad and I lasted 4 days into the new year before we had to get out on the ice. We set our 10 tip ups, and had constant action on Laurel Lake in Lee, MA all morning. Crappies, perch, pickerel, bass, everything. So, one flag goes up right. I slide over to it (because my dumbass forgot the ice pick things that go on your boots- okay almost took about 15 diggers) I hook the fish and it's fighting just like a perch so I'm like oh got another perch on cool. Well, then I saw the fish, and basically needed some huggies. It was a rainbow trout, but like, not the normal rainbow trout I see. This rainbow was the size of the pacific salmon I was catching in Alaska, at least 5 pounds and well over 20 inches. All I saw was the huge side and the rainbow coloring. I was like holy shit. "DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, HELLLLLPPPPPPP!!!!". It's funny how people resort to acting like babies in serious moments. Like, this was a serious moment in my life and I'm wailing like a 3 year old at the playground whose got his underwear caught in the swingset (yes, it happened to me). So my dads like "umm, yeah?" DADDY, GET OVER HERE QUICK, HELLLLP!!!!. Dad gets to the hole and I swear his eyes almost popped out of his head. This rainbow was thrashing like crazy near the hole. He saw the light and obviously did not want to be mounted on my wall for the rest of his life. I got his head as far out of the hole as I could and the (STUPID) circle hook popped right out. Dad went flying into the hole, grabbing for the rainbow, but obviously, it was slippery and smart. We didn't see another trout for the rest of the day. Why? Because papa trout went back down there and said "Guys, guys! You know how they tell you in church when you're about to die you see the light? I SAW IT! But it wasn't nice, there was this girl with a pretty deformed screaming some word that sounded like duck, and a weird red haired dude who looked kind of like santa grabbing me in the face. Seriously, if you want an easy way out, just eat a stick or two, but don't go towards the light!" Seriously, if this fishing season is going to be the season of the crappie, I'm gunna snap.

Dad with a nice largemouth!

First flag of 2013!

Crappie, my first fish of 2013. Though you are tasty mr. crappie, I'm a trout and salmon kinda gal.

Okay even though I missed the trout of my LIFE, we had a pretty tasty fish fry when we got home.

Okay, I Look Like a 12-Year Old Boy, BUT I Can Spot Deer!

Probably the doe I snuck up on today (our dates on this cam are way off)

So last week when I was hunting, I almost peed my pants and was pretty close to the house and like, I'm a girl and if I'm close to a toilet and can avoid freezing my ass off (literally), I'm going to do it, so I moseyed into the house to use the potty. When I looked in the mirror, I was like "Oh God, I'm a 12 year old boy right now, awesome!". Okay, a 22 year old girl looking like a 12 year old boy? That's a get-up a mother can't even love. Anyways, so this morning my dad howls up the stairs to me at 5:30 to get up. Again, it's not light until 7, WHY do I have to be out of bed at 5:30? I was actually dreaming about shooting a deer [that's why they are called "dreams" people, because they are what you want to happen, but ya know really never do actually happen instead they taunt you and make you feel like an idiot when you can shoot a deer fine in your dreams but a duh can't even find one in the woods]. Anyways, slight tangent there, so I make it downstairs to the couch, where I notice it is POURING outside. So I'm a poor college student, anyone think I own expensive waterproof hunting clothes? Nada. I do have wool stuff (real nice once it's wet...not) but seriously, it was pouring. So my dad goes "well, we can wait until it's light out to head out". Ok? As if I could have seen a deer and shot it in the dark anyways, like, that was my plan all along. So we watch the news, which says that the rain is going away in the next half hour and it's going to be "light rain". Okay weatherman, I'm pulling my bullshit card there. We went out at 7AM and it dumped on us until 10AM. So there are obviously some clear advantages with the rain when hunting, like being able to sneak up on deer, and walking quietly through the woods because well, my dad and I are two of a kind aka clumsy as hell. It's funny though, because my dad makes not a lot of noise, but a good stick crunch here and there when he's walking through the woods. I do the same thing. But when I do it, he goes "Moll, shhhhhhh!!!". And I'm all like "Dad, you do the same thing!". Then I go out hunting with Scott. After 5 minutes last week I was like "Scott!!! Shhhh! You walk so LOUD!". Like father like daughter? Yuh. Anyways, so quietness in the rain saves us from sounding like stampeding elephants, and it keeps us from wasting our day "shhhh-ing" eachother instead of paying attention to ya know hunting. Bad aspects: Ya get soaked. My pants were sagging like a southern Florida gangsters, and I could not get them to stay up. I need suspenders or something. My wool jacket weighed 800 pounds as did my backpack full of "dry"[wet, useless] extra clothes. When you eat a sandwich, it gets instantly soggy and you gag on the bread because wet bread is just the most disgusting texture ever. So today my dad decided that he would accompany my hot mess self and we would head south. I am comfortable hunting north from the house. I know the area pretty well and I know where the deer usually are (though that's kind of a stupid statement because I THINK I know where the deer are, but ya know never see any). Being south is like, a bunch of swamps, and all kinds of cool awesome stuff I'm unfamiliar with. Since we had 4 other people in the woods with us who were going south, my dad babysat me so maybe a deer would get pushed to us. So we had been walking for about an hour and 45 minutes (you could not sit for a long time: you would get WAY too cold. Even my dad was cold: when my dad's cold, it's cold) and I swore I saw something white. I was like "You see that dad?" Uh, no. Okay Molly, you're obviously hallucinating because you want to see deer so bad you are seeing things. Okay carry on. We walked for another 10 minutes and my dad stopped. I thought he stopped because he saw the two deer butts and tails skirting up the ridge. I heard "you see those four deer?" come from his mouth. 4, I thought, dangg this is awesome! So I've got an extra quickness into my step at this point. I walk to the point where we saw the deer and find the tracks. "Dad, should we just follow these bounding tracks up the ridge to find those deer?" Huh? He said, "What deer?" Okay, I was confused here. "Um, dad the ones we saw when we stopped. I only saw two but you said you saw four". "I didn't see anything," my dad said, "I said "Do you see the trail here, not do you see those four deer" Well alrightly then. Apparently my 12-year old boy eyes were working correctly and good thing because my dad wouldn't have known there were deer there. So we kept walking for another 45 minutes and stopped again. Almost immediately after we stopped, we heard a deer bark at us. This deer was close. Ohh baby, here we go. My dad cut down the ridge, and I cut high. After walking for two minutes, I spotted a big fat doe, standing right between my dad and I. She was looking right at my dad. I slowly stalked right up behind her. If I had a doe permit, she would have been dead 100 times. So while she's watching my dad, I'm pointing my gun at her, waving, basically doing jumping jacks to say "HEY DAD!!! LOOK A DEER!!!". She eventually realized there was a psychopath behind her moving like some kind of deranged maniac and ran away. Again I met up with my dad, "Hey, Dad!? Did you see that doe!?". Huh? What doe? You saw one? Okay daddy, you need new eyes. I saw three deer today, and dad didn't see anything. We wandered around for the rest of the morning until 1PM, when we were both too soaked to walk anymore. We had walked about 5 miles total in sopping wet heavy clothes. No bucks for anyone today, but, where there are does, there are bound to be bucks, so I'm going to stay optimistic. On another note, 364 days ago today I snapped my ankle hunting on my second day hunting in the season. No ankle break today baby, woo hoo!

No Deer, But a Nice Shin Bruise!

Okay, I slept in the most uncomfortable bed on Monday night. Like, my sisters old futon is the bed from hell. Thing sounds like a squealing pig every time you turn. Dear bed, I'm not that fat so stop making me feel that way. So my dad's always like "You gotta get up super early to go hunting so you'll be ready". So 5:15 comes around, and in my head I'm thinking "it doesn't get light until 6:30.... why the HELL am I awake right now!". Fact: Takes me about 20 minutes to get ready. So after rolling around on squealing hog bed for a while (which, drove me buckwild cuz it was as annoying as all hell) I was ready.... by 6. Like, gear on, pack packed. Pitch black outside, still. If you know me, you know I can't see for crap in the dark. Like, this one time, I walked into a wall because I tripped down a set of stairs (that I couldn't see) and hit my nose and it was swollen for a few days. So Scott and I head out in the dark anyways with a headlamp (A HEADLAMP, as in 1 tiny light for 2 of us). So poor Scott is holding the headlamp and I'm all like "UM, shine that around the woods, and in front of us" and he's like (intelligent) "Um I'm going to shine it on the ground so we can see where we are walking". Hm, to the girl who broke her ankle from tripping on a stick, this should seem logical [noooooooope]. So I snag the light from Scott so I can swing it around in a million circles to see, ya know, if somethings trying to get me (not like I'm carrying a gun or anything: I'm a bit of a wuss). So after sounding like a herd of elephants walking on Christmas ornaments (loud as helll), I get to my tree stand in the swamp and Scott goes away. Molly, by herself, in the woods. Always resulting in some kind of ya know, fiasco. So I'm sitting in my tree stand and it's starting to get bright out and dang, like it's cold as hell. And my feet are cold. But, my backpack is penguin egg tucked between my legs ya know incase I need whats in my backpack (oh, maybe a cushion that I didn't put under my butt? Or a thermal shirt that I didn't put on under my jacket? Or a box of matches? All stuff that I desperately need next to me while crowded on a little seat in the middle of a tree). So my feet are freezing, but I can't move them, but I have to. Soooo, of course, I shift my foot and oh whoopsies there goes my backpack. High class mistake: the arm of the pack gets caught on a tree branch right next to the ground. What a nice little backpack hanger, couldn't have thought of that one before. So an hour passed and nothing was going on, other than my organs freezing off, so I decide to walk around for a bit. Within like, 10 minutes, I get hard core caught in a tree. So my dad likes to "be the deer" so like, I go through the thick stuff (which, in being the deer, I sound like a stampede of buffalo so obviously I suck at it) because he does. And the tree grabs me from the backpack. So I'm trying to get this devil tree off my back while holding my gun because this would naturally be a good time for a deer to come up and lick my face, when I'm tangled up in a gnarly-ass tree. So I'm swinging my arm back, grunting like a baboon, looking like a mess. Finally the tree let me go. So then after walking a while, I decide to sit in another ladder stand because apparently I enjoy losing feeling in all my limbs. About an hour passed there, so I decide ya know organs shutting down again, I should walk. I walk down to this swamp and friggin ruffed grouse blasted out of the trees, scaring the shit out of me. If you've ever flushed a grouse, you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. I could have shot them too (well, probably not but I could have tried at least). So I poked and sat for the rest of the day, but the classiest move I had came towards the end of the day. I'm contemplating how to cross this brook like, its 2 feet wide and I just can't figure it out (how about hopping over it, dumbass). So I lead on this nice [VERY dead] tree like the "cool guy" lean with one elbow against the tree. Whelp, apparently the bed wasn't squealing for no reason, porky, cuz that tree went right on over, as did I. Slammed my shin on a rock. Cute, since ya know I'm going to a wedding this weekend and that big blue egg is gunna look HOT with my blue dress. So in conclusion, no one got any deer yesterday (including Scott, which ya know is good so I didn't have to throw a full out tantrum like a 3 year old, like, not that I'd do that or anything...). Hopefully better luck will come in the next few weeks. But, on the bright side people, my ankle didn't break, so at least I didn't hit rock bottom again.

Me and my baby (The rifle that is. Would this girl ever call a guy "baby". Oh hell no.) and Scott.

Successful Opening Day for the Crew (no, not me)

Ronnie's 11-pointer (166 pounds!)

Dad's 4-pointer (doe?)

 

Ronnie and his monster! Hopefully there are a few more up there waiting for me!

Today around 11:30AM, while I'm listening to a lecture about air stones, I see my dad calling my phone. I was dying to answer, but uh I'm a good student and I'm not going to just bust out of class. So at 11:50, I called my dad. He had shot a "doe" aka 4-pointer, and his buddy Ronnie shot a nice 11-pointer behind our house. Scott and I were pinning the gas all the way to Western Mass because the deer were clearly moving! On the drive I gave him a nice lecture: "Scott, if you shoot a deer on my property before me, I'm going to punch you in the face, scream, cry, yell, possibly throw up, and not talk to you for at least 3 days. BUT if you see a deer, obviously I want you to shoot it!" (Yeah, after that lecture I'm sure he definitely wanted to shoot one). Okay, so as woodsy as I am, I am still a woman! So we got to the house to hear my dads story. He went to Richmond, MA, where our Zone 3 (well, his, mine is a big fat LOSS in the lottery) tags. Around 9:30, dad looks up, and there came a doe. Shot 1, stood there, shot 2, bounding, shot 3, leg but still bounding, shot 4, slugs in the thick stuff aka nothing, shot 5, deer finally drops. He waited about 5 minutes, walked up to it, and the, at this point, "duck/boe", jumped up and started running again. He tracked it for about 2 hours to find that his "doe" was actually a 4-point buck (100 pounds). This is the second time this has happened. 2 years ago, my dad shot a "doe" and it was a spikehorn. Obviously, when your getting older and your eyesight blows, you can't see any antlers (yes, my dad has buck tags too so it's actually legal to be blindish). Scott and I decided that if my dad ever actually sees the antlers, it's going to be a hella big deer. So speaking of hella big deer, Ronnie killed a MONSTER buck today behind the house up on the mountain. He brought a rag full of doe scent with him, sat down, the wind swirled, and the buck came charging and grunting right into him, it was only a 15 yard shot. How about um, luck! So after seeing these deer in the yard, I grabbed the scent gland of Ronnie's big buck and rubbed it all over myself (okay, my gloves. Seriously, wiped my face and nose with buck pheramones, WOOF). So I go howlin into the woods to my deer stand. Oh, and I've been told that my cookies are good luck from Scott for about a month. Apparently, whenever Scott eats cookies I bake him in the woods he shoots a deer. Then, my dad ate a cookie before he shot his duck/boe. So it was confirmed that they are lucky. SO piggy here shoveled four cookies down the gullet but noneya, apparently men eat cookies and shoot deer, whereas women eat cookies and get fat. I guess I'll be visiting my treadmill later instead of gutting a deer. Anyways, I am going out all day tomorrow and since I basically smell like a buck in heat, hopefully I'll get something. BUT it was a really good day for the crew!