PETA activists, may want to skip this post.
Growing up, fall and winter brought venison, quail nuggets, rabbit dinners and summer sausage. Hunting season was open! It was always fun when my dad pulled into the driveway after being away for several days on a hunt. Us kids would run to the truck and after searching his hunting pack for candy bars, we would turn our attention to see what he brought home. The rest of the day turned into a family event helping- well, really watching- my dad prepare the meat he brought home. As we all gathered in our barn he would tell us stories. He would describe the temperature, the smells, the terrain, the wildlife, and the snoring sounds of his buddies in the tent. He would give us every detail and allowed us to relive his adventure with him. We huddled together in the cold barn and prayed. We thanked our Lord for his beautiful creations and how he always provides. Eagerly waiting to get inside and get some dinner; Mom, Dan, Linds and myself would beam proudly as we walked into the house with our dad and provider.
Congratulations, Dad! We are still beaming and proud. I wish we were there to hit the barn with you this winter!