After a few sneaks that involved belly crawling over the ground, cow poop, prickly pear, what-have-you, I successfully shot a doe antelope yesterday.
My arms may never forgive me, since the crawling worked muscles that are declaring their dissatisfaction with me today, but I fared better than Dad, who persisted in finding the prickly pear and kneeling in it.
There's more to tell, but I am more than happy with my kill, more than happy with the meat coming our way, more than happy with the time spent with family and old friends... but right now I have to drag my sorry butt off to sip tea in bed while I read or do a crossword. Daylight savings time and kids are a non-working arrangement, kind of like deciding to put a cat in a bag. It doesn't really sound like a good idea, and you'll walk away bleeding regardless of if the cat is really in that bag or not.