Smelling Like a Rose

Good morning, or might I say that I hope you're doing well. Whenever you find yourself reading this, I hope that either your day has been a good one, or that you’ve got some little nugget of joy that you're looking forward to.

For me, time seems to fly by during this time of year. And the past two weeks have done just that. One of the joys of writing a blog or journal is that it kinda forces you to look back and reflect instead of just moving on to the next thing. Sometimes that can be a good thing and sometimes it can be down right painful. Of course you can't write every thought down that comes to mind, but it's good to think about the past anyways. Picking apart the past should give a person some sort of help in figuring out how to move forward, or for me it's often about how not to move forward. One thing that I've figured out is that a lot of the best memories come from incidental happenings that come about while I'm trying to accomplish something specific, even if I never accomplish the goal. Some people call them gifts. My cousin Mark used to say that if I fell in a barrel of crap, I'd come out smelling like a rose. Well he didn't say it exactly like that. There is some truth to the fact that when things don't go the way you like, there's usually something good that comes out of it anyways.

Armed with that knowledge, I try to pay attention more to the little things that I see, and enjoy the moments that happen along the way. The downside is that I pay less attention to what I actually hope to accomplish.

With bow season, that thought pattern tends to ring true each year. I put in lots of time scouting and of course my goal is to get a decent buck before rifle season in November. It doesn't always work out, but I can't remember ever actually having a bad season. So far this season, I’ve been out a handful of times and I’ve seen a porcupine, a sow bear with a couple of cubs, a few squirrels, and a couple of deer. The porcupine made a single syllable crying sound which was new to me, but why wouldn't they? I think that all animals make some sort of noise.

The one evening I saw my first buck of the year, a young seven pointer. At fourteen yards, the shot was tempting but I wanted to let him mature a little bit and on top of that, I would regret shooting a buck this early in the season. There's just so much to see out here that I wouldn't want to miss any of it. I'm already calling it a great season! 

Another thing that has gone by since my last blog was Jenelle's bike ride.

A little over a week ago, Jenelle and her friend Cheryl rode their bikes from Pittsburgh to DC. They did it in four days which is pretty awesome in my humble opinion! I'm not sure if my butt could handle an adventure like that. Cheryl's husband Tim and I picked them up in DC on Sunday evening. 

On the way there a simple ding sounded in the car and Tim said something to the effect that he had forgotten to fill up the car with gas. We would need to stop at the next gas station and get gas. Well, not a big deal. We were in the middle of some deep and important discussion and so we continued on with that and cruised right on by the next exit. And possibly another one as well. I'm not sure. All I know is that the discussion must have been a good one because the next thing I knew was that the car was slowing down and we weren't anywhere close to where we needed to be. We coasted as long as we could and made it to the next exit ramp and then the road went slightly uphill. As it slowed down we jumped out and pushed. With Tim at the helm and me at the bumper, we made for a great team. As the car crested the knoll and started to pick up speed, I ran forward and jumped back in on the shotgun side. As we rolled towards the stop sign, Tim was pretty certain there was a little gas station about a half mile to the left. At the bottom of the hill we'd have to make another left and a nice little hill-climb up to the pumps. Nothing was coming so we didn't slow down for the stop sign. No one was pulling out of the road that led to the gas station and so we didn't slow down for the corner either. All those years of Tim ripping and tearing on anything that had wheels was finally paying off! We coasted up the hill towards the pumps. I got ready to jump out and push but I didn't need to. The car stopped right by the pump. Of course we were on the wrong side of the pump. But the pump was made for people like us and the hose reached across the car.

For a minute we thought about playing the lottery. But when we thought about everything, to run out of gas in that precise place and to coast over a mile and a half, and stop right in front of a gas pump, that wasn't luck! The good Lord was watching out for us! We looked at each other again. What a bunch of knuckleheads. That wasn't it either. The good Lord was looking out for our wives! He didn't want them hungry and tired, standing around in Georgetown waiting for us.

I don't know if Tim and I came out smelling like roses, but that's one of those memories that I wouldn't want to trade for anything!

Till next time, be careful where you step!