November 7, 2011
First, my apologies for the extreme delay in getting this
version to press. It has been six months since this was started and I am just
getting it finished. So, just imagine going back in time….
This past weekend was the opening day of deer season here in
the great Lone Star State.
And, as the dutiful son that I am I took my dad hunting, on the very property
on which he was born eighty six years and five months ago. For those of you
that would rather opt for the short story, we didn’t see anything. Nothing.
Nada. Zero. Zilch. The big goose egg.
The weekend started a day later than anticipated due to a
surprise audit on Thursday. It was uneventful but it did throw us a day later
getting off. I knew that on arrival I would have a ton of water pipes broken in
need of repair and needed to arrive in the morning to get a good start. One
thing I could not tolerate is not having water in certain appliances in the
cabin. Of course, I didn’t anticipate all of the parts necessary so we had to
make a trip into Centerville
for one lousy fitting. Now, I don’t know about you, but I simply cannot walk
into a hardware store and purchase a fifty nine cent fitting and walk out. I
just have to purchase enough that the sale justifies a credit card purchase.
The new pipes would have to be insulated so we added ten dollars in insulation
to the tab. Then on the way to the door I spot some deck screws that I thought
would work better than nails on that step that needed fixing thanks to my best
hunting buddy. And it required a torx driver instead of a typical Phillips
driver so there is another eight. And because I am so unorganized I could not
find my plastic pipe cutters. Another twenty. Finally after I am satisfied we
would not be short any supplies we headed back to the ranch. Pipes at the well
house repaired we headed up to the cabin to turn the water on. Darn…water
pouring out of the wall under the sink. Out comes the sink, sheetrock, and
insulation revealing not one, but two half inch cpvc pipes split. Luckily I
have just enough fittings to repair those leaks, but to my dismay once the
water was back on there was another just out of sight. Now we are headed into
Buffalo because Centerville closes up a noon on Saturday. It took me a couple
of days to realize that the day was Friday and we could have gone back into
Centerville, a much closer trip.
Now that the water is repaired we headed out to the spring
where I constructed dad’s deer stand several years ago. It is a four by eight
stand with an eight foot ceiling and an eight step stairway going up to it. We
have to replace a step right up around number seven. Simple and easily done
with a couple of hours to go before we head back, watch a movie, and turn in.
However, about five or six months ago I gave up my Direct TV due to economic
reasons. I mean, I was seldom going up there these days and it was just not
practical to keep paying for something you do not get much chance to enjoy. So,
I replaced the satellite system with a DVD player, which would have worked just
great had I remembered to bring some DVDs. A quick search through dad’s truck
turned up two movies. Transformers and Sky High. I think another
trip into Buffalo is in order.
Hunting comes early on the Taylor ranch. Most of the time
that is. I give the elderly a couple of more minutes. After a good hearty
breakfast of bacon and eggs (I won’t mention that we both have heart and
cholesterol problems…) and bundling up following the drastic dip in
temperatures overnight (it is now 44 degrees) we head out to the spring stand
for our first morning of hunting. We filled the feeders up about two weeks ago
and the kids hunted last weekend (one of the kids shot a doe at this very
stand) and it appears that the feeder is empty, but it still had corn on the
ground. So we stuck it out, for about an hour after daylight. At that point dad
just couldn’t take the cold any longer. I can understand that. As you age you
simply lose muscle mass, and therefore the natural body insulation that keeps
you from freezing. So we left and headed back to the cabin for snacks and a nap
before lunch.
As dad slept most of the afternoon I contemplated the
evening hunt. I fiddled around with this and that. Fixing some things and
intending to fix others. Watched those DVD’s yet again, and generally lounged
around waiting on the opportunity to try my luck again out in the deer stand.
When the time finally arrived to get ready to go out I woke
Dad up and mentioned something about getting ready. Well, he didn’t want to go
out this evening. He just thought he would sleep the afternoon away and let me
go out on my own. Well this presented a little bit of a problem since he is
just now getting to that time in his life that I really do not want leave him
alone. It’s not that he is dangerous or anything. I’m just starting to get a
little uncomfortable with some of the little things he says and does. It just
makes me think I’d rather keep an eye on him. However, against my better
judgment and his edging along I finally agree to go out this evening and leave
him asleep in the cabin. After all, we are in the middle of the ranch. He has
no place to go and no transportation if he was so inclined. I felt the risk was
minimal so I went hunting alone this evening.
I’ll just skip all the nonsense about not seeing anything
yet again. Suffice it to say that this evening’s hunt was uneventful. It was
when I returned back to the cabin that things got interesting. Dad was no where
to be found. It’s not like he could be hiding in the cabin, there’s only two
rooms. A quick scan outside did not reveal his whereabouts either. But, I need
to strip down out of these hunting clothes so I can perform a thorough search.
Luckily just as I open the door to exit the cabin to start my search there he
is, on his way back from the neighbors. I say neighbor. It is my cousin, his
nephew’s new place.
Well, that is the last time he gets left alone, even for a
moment. I’ll just chalk it up to lessons learned.
As morning arrived we were up early with a hearty breakfast
eaten. We headed out to the ‘far’ deer stand and arrived just in time to see
the sun crest on the horizon. A little late in the scheme of hunting, but
considering the age of my current hunting partner it was just in time. We got
settled in quickly and patiently waited for that monster buck with the atypical
rack with the drop tines. Just then I hear it…
Tap, tap, tap… Now as some of you know, I am just a little
hard of hearing. Ok, a LOT hard of hearing. Even with hearing aids it is
sometimes difficult for me to distinguish near sounds from far away sounds.
There it is again. Tap, tap, tap… Wait a second, I thought to myself. That is
rhythmic tapping. Almost as if tapping to music. I look around and sure enough
there is dad tapping out the Navy song on the butt stock of his rifle.
Shhh! I can remember when he was doing that to me. Again, I
have become my dad.
So with the tapping subdued I am back to listening and
scanning the tree line for the subtle hint of a deer looking out into the
clearing as if to see if it is safe. Then out of the corner of my eye I see
movement. As I slowly turn my head to the right I see dad raising his gun and
easing it out of the window. Scanning the trees I look anxiously for his target
but see nothing. As he moves his gun left and right I then realize he was using
his gun scope to scan the clearing. Argh. Use the binoculars, dad.
Now that I have his gun back inside the stand he lays it
across his lap and get comfortable. Now, I don’t know about you but to me
comfortable is the gun in the gun rack and me leaned back in a recliner taking
it easy. No wonder he is beat after only an hour in the stand. I don’t think I
could sit ‘at attention’ with a gun in my lap for several hours. And, for
safety sake you really have to be completely alert if you are going to have a
gun in your lap all the time. It’s just a safety thing. Relax dad. Put your gun
in the rack and relax.
After being in the stand now for about fifteen minutes, I’m
getting just a little bit on edge. Dad is moving around like a teenager and
seems to me making enough noise to run the deer off from even the neighbor’s
deer stand. Now he is whistling. Not really whistling like those prisoners of
war that built that bridge over the River Kwai or anything, but the sort of
silent whistling like snare drum imitations. Shh!
Finally I hear it. “I’m ready to get out of here.”
I sort of ignore it for a minute or two. Two whole minutes.
Complete silence. It is the quietest that he has been since we arrived. Now
he’s quiet. But I figure the damage has already been done. It is time to go. I
don’t think he actually came he to go hunting anyway. This is his home. He was
born here and some day he will return here for his last trip. He’s earned the
right to lead the way and decide how long we hunt and when we go visit with his
sister. We pack it in for the day and spend the rest surveying the area just
looking around the countryside.
It comes time to head back home. Neither one of us brought
enough medicine to last more than the four days we have now been here. So we
pack it up to head back home being especially careful to drain all the water
pipes in the cabin to hopefully prevent a repeat of this years water pipe
fiasco.
Those of you that know me, know well enough that I do fib on
occasion. Not often mind you, but today I pulled one over on you. We did see
something. On day three we saw a family of hogs pass by on the way to who knows
where. And on day four, as we were approaching the exit gate on our way home,
there it was. A nice doe waving at us as if to say “Thanks for playing. Ya’ll
come back now, ya hear?”
If only deer could laugh. It sure would have made hunting a
lot easier this year.
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