Friday, December 16, 2011

What To Do After Getting Your Permission Slip From the Almighty G&F


There is no better time of year for a hunter than the time when the clouds from above part slightly, a chorus of “Awww” fills the air, and a ray of sunshine beams down upon the almighty Game and Fish Department the day that licenses are to be drawn and posted at approximately 9:00± A.M. for all to see.  Any person around a hunter at the time of notification will experience the most unusual sighting for the day.  The unusual sighting, mainly men, begins by the hunter pounding his chest in complete ecstasy, ONLY if he gets what he had previously requested from the Hunting Gods.  Otherwise, all enjoyment turns to turmoil as clenched hands go into pockets, kicking dirt, and a little cussing because NOW, you gotta hunt general tags!  None-the-less, all hunting leads to the making of the first version of the sacred HUNTING CHECKLIST.
There are many steps taken to creating the well-calculated hunting checklist.  Usually, the hunting checklists will under-go many many many revisions.  Sometimes, the creation has comments like “see next page” or “page 2 of 7, plus back of pages”.  These steps all begin your insightful reading into a Judy Blume’s novel.  Only, this is a short-story version by The Hunter’s Wife about a teenage boy about to go on his first hunt.  Oh wait a minute, hee he hee, this story involves MY husband, who is thirty something, but regresses into his teenage years as if going on his first hunt, again, even though he has been hunting for 365 days that year, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day…hence, the term horn-porn! 
Here we go…as a young man sits in front of the T.V. watching his favorite horn-porn, large red Disney’s Cars pen in hand, b-b-q stains on his face because it is now after dinner, his tongue sticking out in the right corner of his mouth, as he concentrates while jotting down on a piece of crumbled paper that he found on the floor by his side of the bed making his “Christmas” Wish List, I mean, version one of the blessed HUNTING LIST.  Here are the results:
Please Note Reader:  This checklist may or may not have been tampered with!
Compare version one of the holy HUNTING LIST to an example of any age female Dear Dear Diary entry.  Even the sacred HUNTING LIST endures drama.  For instance, you are going hunting, why do you have to write down an item to bring such as your RIFLE & BULLETS?  Remember-you are going HUNTING!  Wouldn’t that be a gimme!  Maybe a reminder of a knife perhaps for that time during the big hunting day when you are indisposed and you forgot to grab some toilet paper at four in the morning while getting ready.  At least the knife would allow you to effectively supply yourself with a much needed necessity. 
No clue to the list making ways.  But because I am a good wife, here is how I do MY part to help my husband ensure that he has everything he needs for his many weeks while off hunting.  After he is finished writing out the majority of his list; he usually decides to leave it for many months prior to the big hunting trip on the counter by the kitchen sink near the Epicenter of Stupidity, consciously annoying me.  (Note:  there will be another 3-5 revisions before the final product and most hunting tags are given during the month of MAY.  Depending on the area, elk, and deer hunting permits usually begin the month of AUGUST, which is THREE months AFTER MAY!)  I write consciously because I politely ask him every year he needs to find a home for his sanctified list.  I can usually last about a week and even that is pushing it.  Yet, it continues to sit there for days, taunting me. 
As a result of the taunting list, I begin to ADD necessary items to the list to include make-up, Faith Hill Perfume, diapers, pacifier, stuffed animal, woobi/binny (also known as a child’s favorite blanket), and the most important-tampons!  It is always best to be prepared.  J  I am positive that he leaves it by the Epicenter of Stupidity on purpose just to see how creative I can be with what items make it onto the divine HUNTING LIST.  Currently, I am contemplating scratching out HUNTING LIST and replacing it with HONEY-DO-LIST! 

Monday, November 21, 2011

30 DAYS OF THANKFULNESS


30.     BIG THANK YOU to the many followers of “A Hunter’s Wife’s Blog.”  I am glad that you all join me in laughing WITH my husband, who so graciously provides me with awesome material.
29.     A successful year of hunting.

28.     Barney rejoins the Mlinar Clan at the house for playtime to include horn-porn/stock-trading/hunting forum.

27.     All phone calls with Papa Mlinar will involve hunting, hunting, oh, and more hunting! 



26.     During the holidays, a new UPS/FEDEX delivery guy to begin affair with.

25.     New hunting gear and gadgets to research and compare; then test by the Epicenter of Stupidity = new material for blog!

24.     Hunting fund build-up

23.     Met a NEW SANTA goes by the name of taxidermist owner of Western Wildlife Creations, David Hrabvosky (please, send all fan mail to:   5960 Klipstein Road, Cheyenne, WY 82009, or view his art at westernwildlife@millect.com, or phone at 1-888-778-2051) and patiently waiting for him to call.

22.     Cyber Monday SALES at CABELA’s, SIERRA TRADING POST, BASS PRO, GANDER MOUNTAIN, JAX, SPORTSMANS WAREHOUSE, and so many more goodie stores

21.     Thanksgiving sales at CABELA’s, SIERRA TRADING POST, BASS PRO, GANDER MOUNTAIN, JAX, SPORTSMANS WAREHOUSE, and so many more goodie stores…how can we hit them all!?

20.     EXERCISE routine begins and will include the following: 

1)      begin making hunting list

2)      checking the list twice

3)      put the packs away

4)      then pull them out

5)      check goodies in the pack just in case something fell out

6)      then repeat steps 1-5 once a week for the next months leading up to the official hunting trip

19.      EEEEEEK - NEW ELK CALLS

18.     Practicing with the new elk calls…have one daughter upstairs and one down while you sit in the living-room making your call too….house will sound like one big elk fest!

17.     Words from little protégé, “Daddy gets to take us rabbit hunting!”   Words from dog, Soda, “I like rabbit hunting, please, can I go too?”

16.     Honey-do list can once again be worked on…motivation-threaten to shut-off cable & internet!  Then hide all the horn-porn…mwaaaah

15.     Road trips will be planned around potential hunting areas for scouting purposes.

14.     Hunting camp results in new recipes that MUST be replicated at the house.

13.     Many new friends met while part-taking in forums.

12.     New friends met at hunting camp.

11.     New friend from Colorado, who was met while working, resulting in a NEW hunting opportunity-BONUS!!

10.     Bill sent to new friend for adding more hunting to my husband’s life!  (I did not think it possible-thank you friend from Colorado!  Please, make check payable to The Hunter’s Wife)

9.       CAMO SALES!!! CAMO SALES!!! CAMO SALES!!!  Shrills of happiness

8.       FONDLING Guns at any store possible!!

7.       Horn-Porn goes from 1 hour to 10 hours plus, 7 days a week!

6.       THANK GOODNESS for super-smart space phones so all forum/chats/stock-trading can take place on it.  Sure cuts into my scrabble time when I want to play on his phone! J

5.       Forum chats and stock-trading in full season.

4.       Rifle and Archery target practice results in house full of Hoppe’s gun solvent aroma, sounds of bullet making, and ordering more arrows

3.       Mother Nature was hard on the truck this year so new tires are in the works.

2.       An awesome husband & great kids:  all who provide me endless material, lots of love, and infinite amounts of laughter!

1.       Just when one thinks hunting season is over, another 365 days begins!  Hope there is enough time for preparing.

Saturday, November 12, 2011

What Happens At Hunting Camp STAYS At Hunting Camp

         All women possess a little E.S.P. (Extra Sensory Perception) especially when their husbands are like MINE and I know him, oh so well. Then you add into the mix his little protégé aka our youngest daughter-Lord have mercy!  Let me elaborate by telling you how ONE evening of stalking turned out.  Awww, Daddy and daughter bonding time is so special.  However, when these two spend time together, all I can emphasize is that I MUST purchase extra insurance…heehehee. 
        Upon arrival to the house from the evening’s stalk, our little girl opens the passenger truck door with tears in her eyes benevolently promising me that her Daddy’s actions were truly an accident by rectifying, “Don’t be mad Mommy.  Daddy didn’t mean to break the back window of the truck with his 4-wheeler.  He will get it fixed.  He promises!”  Poor kid! 
         Apparently, I am WAY more powerful than I know because I heard she was more concerned for her Daddy’s safety than the broken window which had allowed cold air to freely flow into the cab during the ride home.  I was told her reaction to the window getting broken, which happened while loading the 4-wheeler into the back of the truck, instantly caused her to scream with anguish, “OOOOOOOOHHHH, Daddy, Mommy is gonna kill you!”  I will admit I was a little upset.  Though, after taking a few minutes to calm down in addition to the reassurance our youngest gave for keeping her Daddy safe, I began to see a positive side of the situation:  I wouldn’t be the one freezing while driving to work the next morning!  
         I am betting that if his company during that inevitable stalking trip were different, say his company was another hunting buddy named Barney, who is allowed to stay out much later than our girls during school weeknights.  The broken window story would have more elaborated events then leading up to the climax of the story with hopes of attempting to distract me: 

                     “Barney spotted a pile of elk turds so he sniffed them to determine how
                     fresh the pile was; Jimmie noticed a large herd of elk while peering
                     through his scope.  Because Jimmie was concentrating so hard at the herd,
                     Barney decided to skid a stick across the rocks towards Jimmie to break
                     his focus.  The sound of the stick skidding across the rocks replicated that
                     of a rattle snake about to strike.  Jimmie’s priceless reactions made
                    Barney, laugh hysterically, quietly of course.”

Now, because I have a twisted sense-of-humor, a visual begins to develop in my head of two grown men…dressed in camo attire….in the woods…playing jokes on each other while maintaining quietness, causing them to…breath heavily from holding back any sounds of laughter so they can successfully stalk their prey-is this a horn porn scenario or what!
         I also picture their conversation prior to returning to the house after the truck window breaking to follow a similar version of:
*Photo courtesy of:  htt://bedrock.deadsquid.com/gallery/cars.php
                                             Barney:  You're afraid to tell her what happened, aren't you?
                                             Jimmie:  [skids the car to an abrupt halt] Afraid?  Now let's get this
                                             straight, Rubble, I don't need permission from my wife to make a
                                             decision.  In my cave, I reign supreme, *supreme*.
                                             Barney:  I won't tell her, Jim.
                                             Jimmie: [relieved] Thanks, Pal.
Oh, yes, in my head, I can develop one-hell of a funny illustration of events that took place!  Plus, I find it difficult to fret over something as benign as our truck possessing a broken window when Jimmie and Barney return home with a successful hunt.   

Jimmie's catch:  SAWEET! 

Besides, knowing my husband like I do, it is better to have what happens at Hunting Camp STAY at Hunting Camp whether it is one day or many weeks spent with our girls and/or Barney, and leave my twisted humor to develop its own conclusions of the events that occurred.  Thank God for blogging!

Monday, October 17, 2011

Born to Hunt-FORCED to Work



While at work for the many months prior to opening day, I foresee my husband carefully allocate days/perhaps weeks/hoping & praying for months to be taken for HIS hunting season. I predict him acting a lot like our younger daughter after indulging a piece of chocolate she can’t handle. After consumption, I imagine Jimmie sitting in a fetal position, rocking to and fro, feeling as though he’s in a well-padded white box wrapped in a very tight white jacket, twitching and wanting to climb walls and/or hang from the ceiling! Possibly appearing like this:

Note to reader:  Possible Side Effects of a Mlinar’s Consumption of Chocolate; direct effects of Mlinar’s Born to Hunt-Forced to Work Syndrome


           Therefore, as an unlicensed psychiatrist, I am diagnosing my husband with the disease of Born to Hunt-FORCED to Work Syndrome, which can only be distorted by participating in the physical and the mental behaviors for pre-hunting/hunting/ post-hunting activities. These activities to include but not limited to archery & hunting forums; observations from informational websites such as You-Tube & Facebook; and constant email(s) for every week(s) advertisements from any of the following stores: Gander Mountain, Cabela’s, Eastman’s, Sportsman Warehouse, and/or Bass Pro!
All activities participated in has played an intricate part in misrepresenting the Syndrome’s symptoms through horn-porn and stock-trading as well as introducing other excuses for any of the following family activities:
          •fondling guns and/or bows
•shooting the newly made ammo using the new supplies
purchased which THEN leads to our house smelling as a high-class
brothel due to the odor of Hoppe’s gun cleaning solvent
•let’s not forget any other hunting gadget(s) which requires testing
 by the Epicenter of Stupidity AND then reporting the discoveries 

I’d like to report curving of the disorder’s side-effects has only affected the Mlinar Clan, but there have been instances when “Barney,” my husband’s devotional hunting/stock-trading/horn-porn watching, buddy has joined us. During one of Jimmie’s symptoms, “Barney” graciously helped Jimmie and our daughter to load her beautiful successful hunt and get it back to town for processing:

The First Hunt with Daddy:  WOHOO!


I wish I could have been there but I hear the over-whelming experience led to one exultant young lady, who now also possesses symptoms of the Mlinar Disease.

P.S. When our youngest begins to possess symptoms of the Mlinar Disease (again refer to first picture above), I am purchasing additional insurance whether it is vehicle/over-the-road vehicle (further explained in future blog, What Happens at Hunting Camp Stays at Hunting Camp), house, medical, and anything else to counter-act the outcome!

Saturday, October 1, 2011

The Epicenter of Stupidity



         Over the past fourteen years of knowing and being married to my husband, I have discovered that the world of hunting encompasses many physical and mental rituals almost replicating those that OCD suffers possess. Of course, ALL of my husband’s rituals are performed at or near the Epicenter of Stupidity also known as the kitchen sink.
Most people would test and/or experiment contents that sprays highly irritating liquids, coming out of a bottle at rapid speeds outside where it is not confined to a small area. This would allow the experimenter to not experience any concerns as the developing odorous clouds slowly begins to dissipate. Furthermore, they would NOT test it during or on Super Bowl Sunday-unless you are MY husband!
In previous weeks, we had discussed allowing our girls to begin to walk to and from school. Only, I was completely against the idea unless we got them a taser! Jimmie stated that we couldn’t allow them go to school possessing a taser. Then get kicked out all because Mommy is paranoid. He informed me that he could carry it too, during bow hunting season in case there was a mountain lion or any other predator scouting him (note to reader: I am a good wife. I DID read the article he suggested to me out of Field & Stream about a mountain lion that was scouting a bow hunter. The article was AMAZING and I highly recommend the read). Anyway, Jimmie pointed out that a taser really wouldn’t be as productive. Daaaamn! I really dislike his way of thinking especially when it throws all of my rationality out…okay, fine…based off of his logically, well thought out, argument, the pepper spray would suffice. I envisioned: one child could carry the pepper-spray while the other child carried the cell phone. I was not happy about it because I REALLY wanted a taser! Plus, I now have to chalk up ONE lost battle, which I NEVER would openly admit to my husband that he is/was correct.
After our debate, I write debate because, again, I REALLY wanted a taser; we were off to purchase some pepper spray. While at one of the local stores, we agreed on a hand-held pepper spray, purchased it, and proceeded back to the house. Walking in the door to our house, Jimmie says, “come on girls follow me,” and heads toward the kitchen. I kick off my shoes and head towards the couch in the front room to flip through the channels on the T.V. anticipating the best part of Super Bowl Sunday, half-time. However, half-time would be on much later in the day, so I figured we had plenty of time to show the girls how to use the hand-held pepper spray before the next day. Apparently, I was wrong.
Suddenly, my throat begins to quickly shut, my eyes are watering, and I am having a hard time forming any words. I think I notice something or someone running toward the front door. Through squinting eyes, I see a developing red cloud exploding out of the kitchen doorway and realize the running figure was my husband. Jimmie is opening the front door and the girls are piling out. Shoeless, I too head for the front door and our dog, Soda; tail upright is at my heels.
Gasping for air, Jimmie asks, “Where’s Stitch?” Stitch is our little Chihuahua puppy, which at that time was extremely new to the Mlinar Clan; he is the cutest little thing approximately three quarters of foot in height and weighs approximately 3.5± pounds, wet. Usually, he does not leave my lap, and I am not sure why he did this day perhaps he wanted a drink of water out of his bowl from in the kitchen.
Standing in the snow with no shoes, tears in my eyes, and a burning in my throat, I softly say, “I think...”and point towards the kitchen. Jimmie heads back into the red hovering cloud to search for the three pound Chihuahua. I bend down so that I am closer to the entry way floor to briefly take a closer look for Stitch. I peer into the house. From where I am at, I can barely make out Stitch’s sluggishly brown little body leaning against the refrigerator, coughing, one paw in the air as if to say, “Icarumba!” I am thinking, please, be brave little doggie; stay away from the light! Tears are streaming down Jimmie’s cheeks as he heroically brings Stitch to join us standing, shoeless, outside in the snow by the front door enjoying the in taking of fresh air.

Little Stitch!



As a result of the events that took place at the kitchen sink on that cold winter day; we had to open ALL the windows, waiting 4-5 hour for the cloud to dissipate enough so we could enter back into our home. I’d like to say this is the only time that something like this has happened. But, do you realize how many variations of fire starters there are! Good Lord-Heaven above! Please, help me and our children!! There are so many magazines and so many websites that HAVE willingly published and/or posted to educate the hunting public. MY husband feels it is HIS duty to test and to compare results for each and every one of them. I am more than confident in reporting that the pepper spray experiment has not and will not be the last to be performed at the Epicenter of Stupidity.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Estes Park Golf Course Lost Their Balls!

Cheyenne-Mlinar residence eager for their Bryel Weekend, headed to Colorado with anticipation for many sightings of people getting chased by slutty bulls’ when/if becoming too close to their cows, and the sounds of elk bugling.  What a HUGE disappointment!   I am just venting here; my guess is that the golf course in Estes Park probably got slapped with a lawsuit OR they were threatened by one.  Now, there is a gigantic fence that runs the entire side of the course!  Makes me believe that the golf course in Estes Park has lost their balls!  REALLY!!  People with more money than common sense seem to be dictating when and where wildlife can mate especially when the animals have been migrating to this area for years.  Wouldn’t it be that people came into their area? 
          The Mlinar Clan still had some good sightings of elk and cows.  We just had to full-fill ourselves by venturing into the Rocky Mountain National Park.  Sadly, we didn’t hear any bugling just grunts and huffs.  Plus, I think EVERYONE was celebrating with us this year as all the parking areas, sides of roads, and other “parking” spots were completely full.  Thank you all for your support!  :)
         Next year, we will try again!  Here are some pictures from 2011 celebration of Bryel Day!  Enjoy!!





Does this tree make me look fat?

                           Jimmie saying, "OOOO, DAD, LOOK AT THAT ONE!"

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

We interrupt this Hunting Season to celebrate-Bryel Day




The Mlinar house-hold is comprised of me, my husband, a few other pets, and our three girls, one of which is always with us spiritually. September is the only month of the year that we all excuse ourselves from the chaos of life such as work and school to celebrate our baby, Bryel’s, unexpected adventure of joining Heaven’s Cabin.
Unfortunately, the club of loss includes many unwilling participants. There is no sane way to handle such tragedy and there is no coping skill to suit every participant.  Each participant can only bear their own grief and it is NOT the responsibility of others to carry it for them.  Religion of most any kind in addition to Psychology textbooks are simply guidelines for those who attempt to help and/or to possibly explain scenarios and actions of the circumstances that have occurred. Ultimately, each individual is and will continue to kick/scream/hold their breath the entire rest of their lives until once again meeting up with their loved ones, searching for ways that best suits them to cope with the intolerable hole that now, on a daily basis-every second of each day, encompasses that person(s)’s heavy heart.
The sport of hunting, leads me to believe that this is my husband’s way of coping to keep what little sanity he has left. Let me remind you, under sober conditions and willingly, he DID marry me! I am a whole pile of complete mental instability BUT that is a completely different blog site in of itself! Seriously, how much closer, can a person become one with God than in the depths of the wilderness possibly on top of a mountain accompanied by so many variations that Mother Nature has to offer. For this reason, there are NO boundaries with my husband’s life-long fetish for hunting as long as I am able to add my twisted humor, poking fun at him and his rituals for the sport.
Throughout the past ten years, our family to include our constant support system of my husband’s parents has celebrated Bryel Day by taking the LONGEST AND the SLOWEST day of our lives and adding life back to it. We have celebrated Bryel’s life by attending a college football game, a professional baseball game, the zoo (no, this is not another name for the psychiatric ward, and yes, there was candy & soda involved), and skipped work, if the weekday happened to fall on our Bryel Day celebration.
In 2010, during bull elk bugling season, we took a trip to Estes Park, Colorado, to listen to and to observe the scenario & as a bonus-spotted a Big Horn Sheep in the right-of-way, roughly, 10 feet off of the side of the road-SAAWEET! If you have only heard the elk bugle on T.V., on U-Tube, or on your husband’s phone as a ringtone, you are SO missing actually hearing in person one of the most amazing sounds as well as observing a slutty bull elk round up his multiple potential mates. Don’t tell my husband, but I am ranking this sound & sighting right up there with the coos & giggles of a baby, the smell of the air after an awesome rain storm, and/or catching your first fish even if it did fit in the palm of your hand, which does not even comparably measure to be as big as your husband’s 2 foot in length, measuring from the tip of the middle finger to the end of his palm (note to reader: I HAVE married sasquatch!). I can truly understand why my husband’s neck swells after coming home from one of the almost dark night stalking trips and then topping the evening off by popping in some horn-porn.
I am anxious for this year’s sighting and sounds because last Christmas, I received a NEW camera- thank you, Jimmie and girls! It even came with a BIG lens to capture some awesome pictures. Wyoming Wildlife(1) is gonna cut me a grand prize $500 check payable to: The Hunter’s Wife. If the check isn’t the greatest thing in the mail that day, it will be my photos finally be published in the May or maybe it is January’s 2012 edition, which includes photos from the amateur photo contest! Since this is a lot like winning the lotto, random and I got to pay someone off, I will post some 2010 pictures taken for you to be envious of! This year’s sightings TBA!







(1) For your own subscription(s) to Wyoming Wildlife (cost is $12.95 for one year or $35 for three years) contact, Wyoming Wildlife, 5400 Bishop Blvd., Cheyenne, WY 82006 or call toll free 800-710-8345.


Dedicated to our little Angel; not a day goes by we don't miss you!: 

http://www.vevo.com/watch/kenny-chesney/who-youd-be-today/USBVA0500022

Sunday, August 28, 2011

The UPS Delivery Guy and My Husband Are Having An Affair














        Stock-trading does not only involve guys on Wall Street dressed in some over-rated high dollar suites in close proximities, standing, and yelling gibberish into each other’s faces, while attempting to make some serious cash.  In the Mlinar house-hold, stock-trading is multiple simultaneous conversations, consisting of your husband on the Internet either on the family computer or on his new super-smart-space-phone, and a variety of other men seeking or making trades/sells/or requesting knowledge regarding anything related to toys & gadgets of the hunting world for any of the following:  guns, gun holsters, ammo, empty ammo cartridges for reloading purposes, hunting attire, movie recorders, sites, fletching, fletching tools, bows or arrows, etcetera, etcetera.
If you are still a little lost as to what stock-trading conversation is, let me help you develop a visual.  Stock-trading conversation consists of mainly men, envisioned to be safely nestled in their home; caressing their little diva-Chihuahua’s head as it sits in their laps; dressed in cut-off’s and a pink camo wife beater tee that reads, “Bring a GPS…it is awkward when you have to eat your buddies(1). These on-line conversations freely and openly allow the stock-trader to share their feelings while participating in a variety of discussions regarding hunting issues.  I am positive that at least ONE of those stock-trading conversational men has cried during a forum session!
To the non-hunter, forums should be compared to the Dear Abby columns that can found in your local paper where advice either good or bad is given to any individual(s) behind code-names, seeking knowledgeable advice from one individual.  However, stock-trading chats or forums involve groups of mainly men engaging in, in-the-moment conversations that range from giggling, joking, story-telling, and/or sharing helpful information & websites to tangible episodes of scratching, slapping, and/or hair-pulling.  Really, there is no difference between men and women when discussions are being made about their passions EXCEPT that men are more direct and any difference they have between one another can be resolved during a simple “hunting accident.”  I think that is what Vice President, Dick Cheney called it.
As a result of these sessions, the outcome is that almost every day, I will discover a new box, a letter, or a package either at the front door, on the kitchen sink, on the dining room table, in the front room, or possibly in the “man-cave” by the throne, if you get what I am writing!  Not to mention if I am the one, who is present when a box, a letter, or a package shows up at the house, the delivery guy goes out of his way to peer past me to see if he can find or make eye contact with my husband. There can only be TWO reasons for this obvious act.  Either my husband has found himself a new sugar-momma OR he is having an affair with the UPS delivery guy.  I can’t decide. One thing is for sure, I am NOT going hunting with my husband alone.  There has GOT to be witnesses!
 
(1) http://www.deergear.com/product/Mens/T-Shirts/Short-Sleeves/AWKWARD-TEE/pc/2431/c/2446/sc/2501/155206.uts?webSyncID=373cc67b-1c24-6397-c1d2-219904be9510&sessionGUID=c29d7719-b468-3a9d-0b28-5e711e4cd937







Wednesday, August 24, 2011

Jim's World of Hunting

Usually, hunting is a seasonal thing EXCEPT in the Mlinar house-hold. In this part of the universe or what I like to refer to as “JIM’S WORLD,” it is an event that is held 365 days a year, 7 days a week, 24 hours a day not-necessarily-a-permit-required ritual. My husband began hunting with his parents, his grandparents, and little brother at a very young age.  In fact, I would put money on it that his first vocabulary words were “ELK”, “DEER,” “CAMO,” “GUN,” “AMMO,” and “CABELA’S.”  Probably, closely in that order! Now that he has his own family, he has brought many of the rituals to our house to include his life-long passion for hunting.  If he could convince me, the entire house would be decorated and painted in some form of camo, for blending purposes, of course.  Fortunately, he married me, who is a better cheerleader possessing an abundance of twisted humor with endless amounts making fun at his rituals, than I am a hunter.  I am a work in progress to the hunting sport, so forgive me, if I do not know it all at this point…remember slow work in progress.

Although I have started this blog now, we have already missed a lot of the hunting rituals, but no fears as there is MUCH more to discuss.  Besides, we do have 365 days a year!  Besides my twisted humor on hunting and mentally tracking my husband hunting rituals, it is important to understand WHY hunting is so important.  If you have never taken a Hunter’s Safety course or you do not hunt or eat meat, you may not find this blog quite as humorous as the carnivores around you.  I highly recommend that you either move onto other things, or enjoy reading, getting a laugh about someone else’s experience’s even if you don’t necessarily agree with them…chances are you may become offended OR you could learn something new-your choice.  
Fact is-I eat meat! I love meat! You are NOT going to find me eating twigs & bark unless I am unable to find me some luxurious, savory, onions on top with A1, slab of protein-mmm. With that being said, let’s begin our journey in “Jim’s World,” starting with a crash course in Hunter’s Safety.

My husband signed our oldest daughter and me up for Hunter’s Safety approximately 6 years ago.  I really didn’t get a say in whether or not I would sign up.  I received a text message stating, “Signed you and her up for Hunter’s Safety starting this Saturday.”  Who’d of known that a simple remark of, “Man, I think if I went hunting, I’d nail me a moose,” would have me enrolled in Hunter’s Safety.  Lesson learned on my part! During the entire course, which was about a week long, which is so much better than two weeks, I began writing down a list of names for potential poachers, who I would turn into Game and Fish for the reward monies.  Seriously, you ever sat in one of these classes? Good grief, the young, middle-age, and older people, who attend define why others like myself make fun of the sport.  In actuality, I thoroughly enjoyed the course, but I already made the mistake once of mentioning the hunting possibilities.  What the hell, would I end up doing if I stated I enjoyed going!  Since I AM a fast learner, I am keeping this comment between us!

The course had a lot of interesting points of why the sport of hunting is so important.  First and foremost, let’s not see the animals suffer from harsh winters, predators, scarce food, and depletion of land.  To get a really good idea of what I am writing, grab yourself a carpet sample.  It is roughly a 12 x 12 piece of carpet that you sample from any carpet store such as Carpet Works, Lowe’s, Home Depot, Carpet One, etc.  Stand on this one piece of carpet…ask at least 12 of your buddies to stand on it with you; and another 3; and well you get the idea.  Once it becomes overcrowded, this is the beginning of a long winter scenario.  First, over-crowding, scarce food & cover, AND let’s not forget the predators i.e. wolves, who seem to decimate entire herds just for fun.  So, now, that nice little piece of sample carpet, let’s shorten it to green-livings for the winter now occupies you, some predators, and 20 others on it.  The snow kills off at least 5 of the occupants and Mother Nature takes care of a few, which leaves you, and roughly 10 others to fight for space & cover, food, and run from the wolves.  

By the time spring comes around and babies are to be born, there could be double the wolves, less space, and hardly any cover and/or food, which leads you to starving, searching for little greens, and covering you & your baby from the harsh winter & multiplying predators. If one hunter, takes out one of the animals or perhaps if hunting wolves is an option, that is one less animal that will have to deal with the wolves, the loss of land & cover, and one less that would eat your supply of green-living quarters.  If you are one of those people, who require pictures for full understanding, please, feel free to draw it out. We will wait………….….aww, you are back.  This means a) you got the picture (no pun intended) or b) you are completely lost and have left this blog.  Hopefully, you are an “a” reader and comprehend the idea of how the sport of hunting has benefits.  Now that the lesson is over, let’s get back to my husband’s hunting rituals. B esides, it is really hard to write something comical about Mother Nature-I’m rather positive that she and Karma work hand-in-hand!

It is August. To most people, it is considered the hottest month of the year. However, to a hunter, it is the beginning of some Archery Season-WAHOO!  In the Mlinar house-hold, it is the beginning of stalking season.  Stalking season consists of almost dark night stalks at the area which you have drawn for the upcoming hunting season, which could be at least two months away, depending on whether or not you are going to attempt to hunt archery or rifle.  In either case, you will spend at least $100-$500 in gas just to stalk for possibly a month unless, you downsize your vehicle to a rice burner aka GEO tracker.  So, BE sure to save because whoever tells you hunting is not expensive sport, obviously, won the frickin lotto, OR they are newly married Blake & Miranda Shelton!

In any case, stalking consists of not returning to your house until almost 9:30± P.M. because you have to sit in your car or hike the area of interest with binoculars in hand to see if you can spot an animal that you will be hunting.  Most of the time you will spot something that you are NOT hunting, but you will thoroughly enjoy the sighting.  DON’T forget a camera so you can verify that you DID observe something no matter the specie that was stalked.

When you return home after the first night or perhaps it was the third night that week of stalking, you must before dosing off for the night to dream about that evening’s stalking events, watch at least one horn-porn.  Horn-porns are hunting movies that involve men dressed in camo attire, talking softly, holding rifles and/or bow & arrows, breathing heavy while hunting, AND then yelling like a little school girl on the playground in high shrills, “eww, I got it!.” I know you are imagining yellow pigtails and bobbysocks at this point. My favorite horn-porn is ones that involve Michael Wadell.  My husband’s horn-porn is, well, everything. He is not really that picky. However, he has seemed to be an Eastman’s lover or a Big Bull or something-like-that kind of guy.  One Christmas, Santa fed his fetish by stuffing his stockings with horn-porn.  Santa could really use an ass-kicking!