It’s not something you can just scratch and make it go away. You can’t spray Bactine on it, or take some antihistamines to clear it up. It’s worse than mosquito bites on top of poison oak, and it never goes away.
I’m sitting here this morning, eaten up with it. I know I need to get to work, but all I can think of is hog hunting.
My thoughts drift from actually chasing the hogs, to all the preparation I could be doing right now.
My “new” hunting vehicle needs some work, since the brake lights and turn signals appear to have come unwired. I also want to look into replacing the springs on it, so it doesn’t rattle my teeth quite so bad on the slightest pothole. And, as much as I’d like to delay it, I need to go see if it will pass the CA Smog test, so I can complete the registration process. I also want to look into getting a vanity plate for her. Her name is Petunia.
There’s a big part of me as well that just needs to get out of the bloody office and into the field. I know that envy is one of those seven deadlies, but I can’t help being a little jealous of the folks who make their living in the outdoors. Game wardens, biologists, full-time hunting guides and outdoors writers. Here’s what I really wish my office looked like:
Anyway, I guess I’m not feeling too bad about it. At my weekly chiropractor visit yesterday, I got to talking to the Doc. I’ve convinced him to join me at Tejon over the Memorial Day weekend. This’ll be his first hog hunt, and he’s gone all in about it. Every time we get together now, a good part of the visit is spent discussing gear, hunting strategy, ammo, and anything else related to hunting.
The itch is contagious, and now that I know I’ve passed it along, it makes my own case much more bearable.
Related Posts
No related posts.
