As Andy and I discuss the actual day of our hunt together, I feel as if I’m being briefed by Colonel Sink on the eve of D-Day. “Tonight is the night of nights.” I believe I am well trained. I have mastered the art of stealth, marched the miles of scouting, and studied the book “White Tailed Wisdom.” Surely, this is what I have been training for, this is what the excitement is all about, and this is what it means to be a hunter.

As we discussed our gear and clothing, I still see a significant difference between the two of us. I am thrilled that the time has arrived to see the great hunt. Andy is exact and thorough. All clothes must be layered. This makes movement easier and weather more endurable. You can take layers off as the sun begins to rise. Begins to rise? Oh dear, this is when those differences begin to be revealed.

Early for me is not the same as early for Andy. I believe the good Lord gave us roosters for a reason. Don’t get up until the sun gets up. The hunter disagrees. “We must be in the woods before day breaks,” says my dear. That is a struggle, but I can handle an early morning with enough coffee. “Be cautious about how much you drink. We will be in the woods all day,” says my dear. An early morning with little coffee is not good.

I begin to wonder about lunch. He did say we are going to be in the woods all day--and I love picnics. I approach the topic with caution. He smiles and says, “No picnic baskets, Yogi Bear.” Maybe we can take a thermos with hot cocoa or hot tea in case we get cold.

I always look for the silver lining in every situation. I may be hungry, tired and caffeine deficient, but I will be spending time with my dear doing something he loves. That gave me a great idea. Maybe we should take some cards along and play while we wait for the deer to arrive. At this suggestion, Andy actually starts to laugh. I then suggested that I take a good book, knitting or even Sudoku to keep me entertained.

You know all the movies where the silly woman insists that she go along with the man? Then, she ends up in the way or even worse, dead. Have I become that woman? After suggesting this to Andy, he again laughs at me. I have become quite the comedian it seems, even though I am not trying to be funny. “You’ll be fine, Love,” was his exact words. That was good enough for me. Let the games begin. On the week before D-“deer/dear”day, I am ready for the hunt (I think).