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A quote: “Luck is a very thin wire between survival and disaster, and not many people can keep their balance on it.” ~~ Hunter S. Thompson
I’ll start with a story …
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Grandma was intense.
While my friends found their grandparents tolerable, at best, mine had me hopping. Friends hung out all weekend at the Cineplex. Me? I was dragged camping and hunting.
Wintertime, grandma had Great Books on audio while I was knitting or weaving or canning …
… yep, grandma was running a race that I had no clue about. Not until my phone … well, all phones were bricks and electricity soon passed into memory.
Now as I teach my grandkids how to dress a deer I pray thanks to grandma and wonder what happened to my Cineplex friends.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. Featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license.
Lloyd says: Loved this. I am 80; my eleven year old Grandson knows how to hunt & fish. He cleans, cooks and eats the fish & game he brings home.
Dupin says: That doe was pushing her luck. We used the old guard tower as a hunting blind now.
That tower had been a part of an internment camp during the short-lived US theocracy coup. The so-called Christian States of America locked up all sorts of people into their re-education camps. You supported immigration reform, gay rights, or reproductive rights, you could get locked up. And with social media, you couldn’t backtrack.
They even locked up other Christians who fed, clothed, visited, welcomed, or loved the wrong people. Luckily, the military stepped in before things went too far, and the coup was over. The Constitution was back in place.
Cameron says: The deer watched us quizzically as I radioed headquarters.
“My permit is legit!” the man said in outrage. “The signature is from one your Wardens.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But listen; that tower is a border marker. You didn’t know but I’ll make sure you understand.”
“Border for what?”
I looked at the deer. “Enough games,” I growled. A moment later, the deer was gone and a young man was standing there.
“The fey have a twisted sense of humor. Shoot one and they would have hurt you or worse. Come on; I’ll give you a lesson at the station.”
Navig8r says: “Good job of teaching. Now I can feed my family through an apocalypse.”
“Yes, you are a good student.”
“I sense a ‘but’ coming”
“Hunting is but a foundation for many other skills that you must learn.”
“We already have the field dressing, cleaning and cooking parts down. And the shelter building, fire making, land nav, all the Boy Scout skills.”
“But there is still at least one of great importance.
“Such as?”
“Always ask yourself ‘What next?’ If many hungry people take to the woods at once, Grasshopper, how long can the deer population last? And the other animals?”
The Greenies sure made it easy, insisting all the minefields and other measures had to be on the inside of the barbed wire. Couldn’t have some poor little deer step on one and blow itself to venison hamburger. Oh, and all those mines had to be radio trackable and remote-detonation enabled, so future generations of deer and moose and bison would be safe when this place was packed up and hauled away.
They couldn’t be bothered to do half that for the humans they were penning up in there. No, we’re a filthy plague upon the Earth, and must suffer. This secular Calvinism, all absolute depravity and no irresistible grace, has gone on long enough, and I’m saying that as a good Presbyterian.
I send the signal, and with a roar all the mines go off at once, blowing down the fences, knocking down the guard towers. Now to free our friends.
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