In the words of the great Mary J. Blige, “this one is for the ladies…”.  Multi-Tasking.  It seems we are genetically predisposed to this.  Women are the quintessential multi-taksers…at ALL times.  Women can drive to work, prepare and mental grocery list, arrange delivery of children to 3 various and sundry locations within a 5 minute block of time, give a concise description of the Pythagorean Theory and still simultaneously always know exactly how many rolls of toilet paper are left in the house at any given moment.  Our brains, it seems, are so advanced that we  can always know (to the kibble) how much food each dog consumes while simultaneously calculating the overall cooking time for a 15 lb turkey AND knowing exactly which plastics we can recycle.  I have long since decided that this feat is due to the fact that we are born with an additional “woman” cleverly implanted in our brains that has allowed us to evlolve into the multi-tasking machines that we are.  How else can it be explained?  I call this portion of my brain, “Marsha”.  Marsha accomplishes SO much.  I can be nodding off to sleep, but Marsha will start to balance the check book.  As much as I would like the credit, it really is Marsha who knows how much toilet paper we have.  Marsha is the one who determines the quickest route to work while I am helping my daughter understand what happens when a dog gets neutered.  Marsha rocks.  However, Marsha apparently does not have and “off” button.

 This was never more apparent to me than this past hunting season as I was quietly waiting for a monster bull that never seemed to move my direction….this was the moment I had been waiting for.  A gorgeous Colorado morning; crisp and cold.  The smell of earth and leaves permeating my nostrils.  Magnificent mountains outlined by that hue of blue sky that can only be found in the Fall.  Elk were bugling and moving.  This was perfection.  I was poised, my pulse was racing…I was going to get a kill.  What goes through one’s mind at a moment like this?  The mind is focused and the senses razor sharp.  Nothing but elk and clarity.  This is IT!   Right?

Uh…not so much.  It appears that even in these ultimate moments of existence, Marsha, in all her manic wisdom, is right there with me.  Marsha, Marsha, Marsha…  Ladies, can you relate?  Even in these moments, Marsha’s urgings reverberate through the nooks and crannies of my mind:

Me:  Wait.  Listen.  Which way is he coming in?  What is that noise?
Marsha:  Noise…speaking of noise…did you set the alarm for the kids?
Me:  Yes.  Listen.  Glass.
Marsha:  Uhhh…you forgot to pack lunch for the kids.  I tried to remind you last night.  Hope they have lunch money.
Me:  Jeez.  Money…got to remember to pay the propane bill before Saturday…  Knock it off.  Listen.
Marsha:  Saturday…Kids need to catch the bus for their meet before 7:00.  Need to pack lunch.  Hope you don’t forget this time.
Me:  There he is!  He’s about 200 yards off.  Not a good shot yet.  Wait!  Listen.   Cow call…
Marsha:  Cow…don’t forget to get the 4-H record books dropped off this week.  Oh- you also need to make a side dish for the banquet.  We should make that green bean dish.  We should actually just freeze enough to feed the entire free-world.  then we can just grab and go.  Need plastic containers though.  I like the ones with the blue lids…
Me:  Oh Yeah.  Stop it.  Glass those trees.  There’s another bull coming off that ridge.
Marsha:  Look at that blue sky.  You only see that color in fall.  You should paint the bathroom that color.  White towels would look great with that color.  Like a little slice of heaven.  Oh- you’re down to 1 roll of toilet paper.
Me:  I just painted the bathroom last winter!  Shhh.  A little bit closer.  Where is that other bull?  Listen…
Marsha:  Listen…hear that airplane?  Wonder where it’s going.  maybe Aruba.  Bet it’s warmer there than here.  Oh…that reminds me, we need develop that film from last vacation…you should do that tomorrow on the way to work before you drop off the kids.  Check out the contrail…looks like Abe Lincoln…speaking of Abe Lincoln, you still owe the boss $5 for that last bet.  Oh, you may need to go by the ATM after you drop off the film…
Me:  Woah. Stop.  Listen.  He’s close.  Not a good shot.  Branches in the way.
Marsha:  Way…weigh…girl, you need to hit the gym ASAP.
Me:  Alright.  Stop.  There he is.  Shoulder the gun.  Wiat.  Wait.  Listen.
Marsha:  Shoulder…that physical therapy appointment is Tuesday at 2pm.  That may be a conflict with that work meeting.  You need to check.
Me:  Squeeze the trigger.  He’s Down!  He’s HUGE!
Marsha:  Huge…don’t forget about the gym, ok?  Oh- we’re out of lettuce.  Should stop at the grocery store on the way home.  Grab some toilet paper while you are there…

Great 6 pont bull!  Great hunt and beautiful day.  we pack out, load the truck and enjoy the warm bliss of a successful hunt.  Sipping hot coffee, I catch a quick glance of that monster rack in my mirror.  Great day indeed.  I shut my eyes and enjoy the rhythmic drone of the truck as we head home.  I am warm.  I am dozing.  I am happy.

Marsha:  …Should we process this guy at the place west of town?  We can drop him off on the way through.  Oh, hey, that’s right by the grocery store.  If you have your film, you can drop that off too.  Oh, while we are there….

Meet Julie from England. An avid archery enthusiast, she competes around the British Isles where field archery/3d’s have a strong following. It is not uncommon to see archers shooting everything from compounds to tradtional recurves to longbows and primitive style bows.

The dogs pictured are “Lurcher’s”. (Bruce and Crow) Lurcher’s are bred to hunt by sight, taking such game as rabbits, hares and foxes. Interestingly, (although tragically) the older dog on the right broke his back two years ago and was paralyzed as a result. However, after an operation and hydrotherapy, he is now able to run just as he did before the accident.

Another successful hunt for 2008 turkey! Great job, Stephanie!