So, if we are good friends, or just distant friends, or acquaintances who have met on the bus, chances are that you know I like shooting guns. I enjoy shooting at targets, and even occasionally at things with legs. Moving to Alberta had the major perk of being the most pro-gun province in the country. I knew that I could have guns here and not have to worry about what my friends would think- assuming they weren't all too scared of me on the bus to become my friend in the first place. My dad came up to visit last weekend and we took some time exploring the back roads and putting meat on the table. Here is man in his natural element:
While we were out, my dad was hunting for deer, while I was simultaneously hunting for grouse. I got a few too! We each popped 2 of them. Here is what was left of that little bird once all the dirty work was done:
I can't make head nor tales of it! That poor little bird never saw it coming. And if it did, it should have run away. The final result- two little grouse breasts, now frozen. Liz is going to teach me to bake them with bacon and garlic. Yum!
The woods out here are really beautiful. The landscape is very different from BC. I kept wanting to get up a mountain to look around, but there just aren't any. It is all pretty flat! It can look quite barren with all the naked trees. And I love that you can see entire fluffy white clouds. I hope you enjoy the pictures because I am quite certain my dad lost a few more hairs while observing my picture-taking-while-driving technique.
While Dad and I were out, we drove down to a little town called Conklin and ate in the only restaurant. I was the only woman there! The next day we drove north on the winter roads up to where the ice road begins later in the season. What a crazy place to live. We only got stuck in a bog once, at which point Dad had to push and I got an impressive coat of mud on my four wheeled beast. Washing it in 4 degrees, though, was a little too cool for school.
Check the sweet pipeline sign, up in the middle of nowhere!
This week at work: has been really good. I am learning to leave my work at the office. I got my one month review, which consisted of comments like “awesome” and “really valuable.” I also had a meeting in Edmonton, and the commute was crazy. You fly in, first thing in the morning, then race out to get a cab and get back to fly home for 7pm. That said, I did feel pretty cool flying in for a meeting. I almost sound important! I started up our Community Kitchen program too, ala West Abbotsford Mennonite Church, and that is going to start next week.
I am so glad you had a good time with your dad!
ReplyDeleteThere is still some of your deer meat in my freezer, and one of these days I will eat it and think of you fondly. Not in a I-am-gnawing-on-red-meat-and-thinking-of-Kate kind of way.
How's it going with gluten free eating over there?
Good shooting - both the birds and the clouds.
ReplyDeleteI will totally help Larissa eat Kate's venison. Because let's face it, Larissa: if you cook something, I'm not going to let you eat it without me. Unless it's peas. But you don't like them, either, so I know that won't happen. We're so compatible.
ReplyDeletePoor little grouse. Did you name it, Kate? I find that naming my victims helps me deal with the tragedy of their loss.
You *almost* sound important? We both know that you are important. I mean, just think of all the really important and awesome people you know who read your blog! That would make you important and awesome by association, even if you *weren't* saving lives and running around with an armful of guns!
ReplyDeleteYou are invaluable Kate, they are lucky to have you on the team.
ReplyDeleteNice photo of dad and you with the red meat. Good clouds too.
love you
G
You disgust me.
ReplyDeleteWell, can you blame me?? You write about killing animals and then get 5 comments saying things like "you are invaluable Kate" and "we both know you are important". This is terrible internet literature. This is what my mom always warned me about when she said the internet was the devil. You write to condone animal murder, and truck driving, and cold winters, and all things awful. You are the antithesis of a good hippy Victoria-ite.
But, I miss you.