A deer camp five mins away is to [del]drink, smoke, play cards, have fun[/del] be very generous to the wimenfolk so as not to wake them up early & not have them have to deal with the disgusting things. Isn’t he a wunnerful guy for thinking of you. BTW, you got a sister? 
I have 4 sisters. All but one are involved with husbands. My baby sister is single. But, trust me you don’t need that headache.
Come on down and hunt. The guys will accommodate you. We’ll get you a good ol’ redneck chick in about 15minutes.
P.S. bring your own toilet paper.
It’s a law!
The weekend warriors are rolling it. They need time to put the deer stands up and set up camp. Ah, joy!
My road is like a highway to somewhere important. I rode to the mailbox and met 2 trucks and half a dozen ATVs. I’ve heard distant shooting. Sighting in rifles, I assume.
Son-of-a-wrek brought me some of his sweet potatos he grew and said hunters were swarming everywhere.
He’s frying catfish at the Camp tonight. He asked did I wanna come. Nooooooo! I’m good. I’ll eat sweet potato and watch my movie and look at my computer screen.
I’m a happy Camper.
Must be a regional thing, 5 minutes away…doin it all wrong…I mean, I get it, you live in the middle of Deer Hunting Arkansas…we was just raised different I guess, get up and leave at 4am, drive, oh I dunno, 3 maybe 4 hours before turning off the pavement, drive another hour or 2 on dirt “roads” THEN get out, decide who’s climbing to the top of the rim to toss rocks into the brush and aspen at the base and start walking
Most of Mr.Wrekkers fellow campers do just as you described, Dork. They come from many places. 2 of his great nephews came in today from west of Dallas. Of course, they came to see me. They remarked about how far out and off the beaten path we are. And, “Aunt Beck how can you stand it out here alone?” Well, I can stand it just fine, thank you. Get thee to the camp, please.
"Well, I can’t BE alone until you leave!"
Exactly!
How can I miss you when you won’t leave?
So, so true^^^
I’m kinda certain I’ve seen all the extended family members I need to see, this deer season. Thank the lord.
Now to just find a hidey hole til this goodwill tour of family gets done hunting and departs.
Man, I sound hateful. I’m not really. Just phobic.
I went to the foot doctor and got an all clear. I’m keeping that bit of good news under my hat. I may need to pull it out for a good excuse to not to go to the camp. (~VOW, girl you’re a bad influence:))
Through the grape vine I hear another big event is happening, at the camp, after the pig shoot Saturday. I won’t be attending if I can help it.
Son-of-a-wrek reports the bath house has been cleaned. Little Granddaughter says, “It still smells bad, Nana!” I can just imagine.:smack:
He says the road to the camp was busy as a highway. Too many dumb butts with guns. Jeez. Worrisome.
Keep your head down and stay away from windows.
If I’m outside I wear orange. I live in the middle of 90 acres with lease land and state land on each side of us. The direction I worry about is toward the road. We have a large gated entrance and it’s obvious it’s a home. Somebody shoots off that road every year. These hunters are going to the state land that is posted. It’s on a map as state land so hunters from other places assume it’s open for hunting. It’s not. They get there and see the posted signs. Invariably someone will scare up a deer on the road and take a pot shot. Dangerous and very illegal. I have bullet holes in my house and barn.
Have I mentioned I HATE deer season?
I rarely stay at deer camp. I prefer driving back to my mom’s or other relatives for the night. Fortunately it’s less than 20 to 30 mins away. Next morning I’m at Andy’s before daylight drinking coffee and eating before heading out to the woods.
A lot of the older men in our deer club do the same thing. Camp is for people hours away from a warm bed.
This. You know it is going to be a nightmare and yet you inflict it on yourself. Enjoy a vacation by yourself at home. So wonderful.
Mr.Wrekkers deer camp is for a bunch of camaraderie and tale telling, beer drinking.
Big boys and their toys.
I know he and my son are serious hunters. I assume most of the other members are as well. They always get their limit of deer. But they’re gonna have their fun as well.
More power to them.
There are way worse things they could be doing.
ETA, they cook all their meals at the camp. It’s a big deal what they eat everyday. Coffee is always on. Deer summer sausage and cheese and crackers are always available. Most guys bring some cookies or snack cakes. Plenty of food, all around. They wipe out my fresh eggs every year.
Beck, just so you know, a Sonic corndog was consumed in your honor this evening
I had to go south for the monthly med run, and glistening like Las Vegas on the other bank of the river was corndog heaven.
Once again my diabetes quack has issued instructions that conflict with reality: Increase your Tresiba dose by 5 units twice a week until you hit 60 units.
Only problem with that is the pen is set that every click is TWO units. Odd numbers need not apply.
How was that corndog? I’m so jealous. DIL insisted on eating in a sit down place, today. We had Italian that was not great.
The diabetic nonsense I hear from lisc. Medical professionals would curl your hair. I always second guess and ask many, many questions. They hate me. I love to make them feel guilty when I sense their frustration building up, I say “I’m just trying not to die, here” & bat my eyelashes.
Works every time.
I’m gonna go straight to hell when I do die.:eek:
My dad used to tell a story about a bunch of guys who went hunting together every year. Each year, the cooking duties rotated to a different hunter, and the rule was that anyone who complained became the cook. All of them hated to do the cooking, and one year one of the hunters decided he had a sure-fire way to get out of the chore. He made beans, and he poured a whole pound of salt into the pot. So they’re sitting around that night filling up plates and grabbing their beers, and one of his buddies digs a spoon into the beans and takes a huge bite. Seconds later he’s spitting the mouthful out, cussing and swearing that the beans are so damned salty … and then he pauses, and says, “but that’s just the way I like 'm.”
Son-of-a-wrek and 2 other guys do most of the cooking. They like it, I guess. One guy makes the best pancakes. They really like him. I imagine his beer is free for the duration.
I got a joke for your menfolk for when Deer Camp is shuttered at the end of the season.
What is the difference between a deer-hunting story and a fairy tale?
A fairy tale starts out, “Once upon a time…”
A deer-hunting story starts out, “Now this is no shit…”
~VOW