|One of my hunters, son Beau|
In our household, like so many others around the state, besides family and friends filling the house, and mountains of pies crowding the counter tops, there are also piles of blaze orange strewn everywhere! Dinner isn’t served until an hour and a half past dark, giving time for all the hunters to come in from the cold and tell their tales as they gather around the wood fire to thaw out. We LOVE it!
This is how I grew up. I couldn't imagine spending Thanksgiving any other way. Then throughout the year to follow, we thank the Lord for the good meat filling our freezer and canning jars if we are so blessed.
Hunting sometimes works its way into my books. It's one of the ways in which the writerly adage of "writing what you know" eeks out of me. I love to write about the outdoors and to help readers experience the smell of fauna or the sound of a deer crunching with delicate steps through the frozen leaf floor of the forest. I love to thrill them with the sound of soft wings as a grouse flushes and arcs through the tree tops. I love the way a chickadee will land on a branch near your head and converse, or even the pestering of a noisy squirrel chattering warnings in the woods.
|There's a short, romantic hunting scene near the end of this story. YES, hunting can be very romantic! My proof is one of those writing-what-I-know incidences *eyebrow-wiggle*.|
How does your family celebrate Thanksgiving? With football and board games, or are you a family of hunters too? Whatever you do, I hope you have a safe and blessed Thanksgiving!