The weekend before the first day of gun season is a wee bit chaotic at our house. Ours guns have been sighted in, so they are ready: lock, stock and barrel. Now, Danny and I need to drag out all the totes that contain all the hunting gear we possess--and then choose what we desire to wear. After we have tried on our formal attire to make sure it still fits from last year, I wash all our clean clothing to create the illusion that we are one with nature. In other words, we “soil” our clothes. I have a warped sense of humor, or so Danny tells me. I love you, Danny.

After the laundry is complete, we spray our clothes with scent-free spray and set our gear into a waste bag till the following morning. When that is finished, Danny and I decide what we are going to pack in my fanny pack and his little goody bag. I pull out our drink bottles to be filled for the next day, since pop cans make too much noise when opening. If we decide to carry lunch cakes along, I need to place them in Ziploc baggies--the noise factor again. Next, we decide what type of sandwiches we will eat. It sounds like we carry a lot of materials with us, but somehow Danny and I seem to fill any and every pocket we have. I love you, Danny.

All the while we are gathering our gear, Danny is deciding where we are going to hunt. His “buck fever” is really kicking in and I am nodding my head in agreement to everything he says. Danny is telling how we will go on the ridge, and walk on this road and go this way and that. Just give me an exact location and that will suffice. I love you, Danny.

The night before the hunt, we get our shower, so we can go to bed smelling dirty, and set the clock for 5 a.m. Excitement is racing through Danny’s veins. Between anticipation of the hunt and someone’s snoring, sleeping is a difficult task for Danny. I love you, Danny.

 People say deer meat is the cheapest meat, and that it takes only one bullet. I beg to differ. With the prices of hunting accessories, guns and ammo, I believe it is the filet mignon of West Virginia meat. I really love you, Danny.

A special thank you goes to my dear, Danny, for aiding me in the preparation of these stories.

If a buck has a death wish, I will let you know.

Robin got her "Dear."

Be safe and good luck, hunters!

Remember, any comments or questions are appreciated. Email robin@calhounchronicle.com.