the big hunt

Here in Minnesota, Christmas comes in November for all those who love to hunt. And there are a lot of them . . .  you see them everywhere . . . big, burly and bearded - wearing blaze orange and a big fat smile. Carl is one of those hunters . . . and Jocie will be next great hunter in our family (minus the stereotypical description).

 

 

Joc couldn't do any actual hunting this year because she hasn't taken gun safety yet, but she did help push some woods and sat in a stand with Carl . . . she said she really liked it ( . . .really??). Thank goodness I can just go to the local grocery store to buy our meat now-a-days, because the hunt was unsuccessful. Bambi = 1, Carl = 0.

 

 

But that doesn't mean that everyone can't get together and eat like the hunt was successful! The food was plenty (as always) at "Deer Camp", and Carter got to meet his Great Grandpa Kuznia. He's almost 95 and probably healthier than me. 

 

 

 

 

We were delighted on Saturday to wake up to a coating of ice on everything. Just another charming trait of being in Northwestern Minnesota. The ice totally ruined my idea of going to East Grand Forks for the afternoon . . . I haven't been "home" for a year and a half!! That's just crazy pants. I guess there's always next time . . . when ever that is.

 

We can't end on a depressing note. So here are a few snaps of my littlest chicklettes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They're pretty cute, if I do say so myself.