Monday, May 5, 2008
the great hunter has returned victorious
After three scheduled and then cancelled turkey hunts Jeremy and Jake finally had their big hunt last Saturday. It gives me great pride to report that in Jeremy's very first wild turkey hunt ever he found success. Jeremy and Jake came home Saturday night with a butchered turkey (minus a little "clean up" work). We got two large turkey breasts and a couple of nice drumsticks out of this turkey which Jeremy plans on cooking tomorrow. I'm still not sure how I feel about eating a wild animal. I might consider it this time because in all fairness the meat just looks like meat. I think my least favorite part of hunting is me waking up the next day to make the kids breakfast and finding tiny black feathers on my counter top.... SICK!!
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4 comments:
What a manly thing to do. Way to go Jerm and Jake! I'm afraid when I ask Eric to bring home dinner it usually comes in a Chipotle bag...at least there's no black feathers to deal with.
My dad once brought home a dead elk for us to eat. (For months, and months and months.) My dad, being German, enjoys eating all kinds of animal parts that I don't usually partake of. (Just ask me if you want to know what the house smells like after a big old beef heart has been boiling away on the stove all day.) So...he had my mom cook up a mess of elk liver for dinner one night. In my house, you ate what was placed before you and you didn't "diss" my mother's cooking. I decided that the elk liver would be more palatible if I liquified it in the blender and made a shake out of it. Since I wouldn't have to chew it, I thought I could just drink it down real quick while holding my nose. Not only did I have to finish mt elk liver shake, but I had to mop up my own barf.
Good luck with the turkey.
Linda, you are so funny. I see where Liza gets her sense of humor.
When my mom cooked my dad's hunting conquests, he would tell us that whoever found the little bullets got a prize. That's one of the few times I actually won something in my life.
I forgot something. I was going to suggest that you need to get Jerm a t-shirt that I saw at the Prime Cut restaurant the other day. It said:
veg·e·tar·i·an
"An Indian word meaning poor hunter."
P.S. I don't believe that there is actually a "t" in the word "my." I sometimes think they were a little slow getting me on that ventilator.
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