Firewood cutting at the deer shack, is fun firewood. All with a round ready to go downrange in November are here assembled in September.
The weather, the way the ground is starting to ferment all of summer’s enthusiasm is slowly simmering a bit, and with the flickers of fall color just starting to make you wish, it wouldn’t go so darn fast.
So to slow things down even more, lunch was gonna be grilled up one brat, one burger, one dog at a time. We stacked some firewood, bucketed birch bark and pinecones until the woodshed was even a touch overfilled, then all that was left was a leisurely lunch. And the senior member of me by only months has sway with the only flyswatter at the shack.
He’s doing a very bad job.
I ask him to relinquish the weapon which he initially refuses, then he licks his orange Cheeto’s fingertips and passes the bug baton to me, with a, fine, see if you can do better.
I’m not encumbered by snacks or sticky fingers, and I set to work on the winged insects, and in short order, order had been restored to the small building’s interior. I was duly congratulated by all but him.
He offers, maybe this deer season you should use a flyswatter deer hunting, you may have better luck.
- The Trout Whisperer
