Deer season has come to a close. It does not appear that we will have any venison for the freezer this year. The friend who used to give us the occasional shoulder, leg, or ribs in exchange for letting him butcher the deer in our barn is dying of COPD and was not even able to shoot from the car (they give special dispensation for road shooting to disabled folk). We have enough land that we are eligible for a free deer tag and I know someone who would used the tag to shoot for us on his own land (my husband does not hunt even though he is an excellent shot) but I forgot to get the tag in the confusion surrounding my trip. I did “get” a deer once. This was a large fawn that had just been hit by a car as it followed its mom across the highway. I put it in the car and brought it home and butchered it (and probably broke the law). At any event, R still fulfills that primal “hunt and gather” urge that many men have by shopping. He locates the bargains, stalks them, and closes in for the kill…err…purchase, and if we need one item, he’ll buy three. In some areas this has snowballed. At one point we had 32 tubes of toothpaste (uhh oh, we’re running low, ONLY 11 left now) and about 25 bottles of shampoo. We currently have 59 bars of unopened hand soap (there are just two us living here). I’m not really complaining though. Unlike many women, I hate to shop, so go get ‘em sweetie!
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