Now that we live on the Frozen Tundra, Fisherhubby has re-taken up bow hunting. He disappears for hours on end into the snowy wood and I am left at home to wonder if he has fallen from his tree stand, onto one of his arrows, and is lying amongst the roots with a broken leg or worse.
Today was one of those tree stand days.
Hunters are supposed to come out of the woods a half an hour before sundown, so a while ago when I saw that the sun was down, I gave his cell phone a little jingle to check on his progress.
"Are you lying on the ground impaled on one of your arrows?" queried I when he answered his phone.
"No", said he. "Why do you ask?"
"Well - - - it seems like you've been out there for a very long time." replied I.
"It seemed like a very short time to me." says he.
No - - - he did NOT get a deer, for which I am truly thankful since neither of us even LIKES venison.