I awoke this morning with ever expectation of watching the sun rise over the deer woods. The Mule is loaded on the trailer and hitched to the truck, the rifle is cased and the backpack is loaded. I woke up at 4:00 a.m.. and put on a pot of coffee, then went outside to look at the weather. I immediately got rained on, then came back inside to check the radar. Oh, hell.
It's misting, spitting rain out there right now, and I'm not nearly as concerned about those deer as I was when I was a young'un. If the weather plays out like I expect it to, we'd be right in the middle of it on the return, with plenty of rain and thunder, and lighting, and who knows what other weather goodness. I think I'll sit my sorry, 60-year-old butt at home today, and pester Milady.
Remembering my youth, today would be a magnificent day for an early duck hunt. This wether pattern is excellent for moving ducks. An unseasonably warm day in advance of an energetic cold front, and the ducks move, trying to find shelter and feed in front of the weather. When I was a duck hunter, I'd look for exactly these conditions, and high-tail it out to the duck blind whenever they presented themselves. However, I don't even own a duck blind anymore.
Oh, well, we'll go check on those deer next week, after Christmas.