Here, buck, buck, buck...
Lily and I went up the mountain to be Steve's lookouts while he hunted deer. We had to get up way too early for a Saturday. Although, I did get a rare treat--an egg McMuffin. I'm usually not up in time to ever get one of those.
Steve had one week to get a deer. It only took one day.
Now I know exactly what I would look like if I had been born a boy...I love my (Steve's) camo pants!
And here we are...leaning...
This is Steve slicin' and dicin' up his trophy of the day.
A few days later, I got to taste deer for the first time. It was then I learned, I hate deer meat. At least in its fleshy, meaty form. Deer jerky, on the other hand, is awesome! We have two large pots marinating away in the fridge as we speak. (The West Jordan Dunlaps will all get a taste soon.)
Through it all, I realized I hate the process. I don't like knowing where my meat comes from or what happens to it between the slaughter and the meat counter at the grocery store. Ignorance is delicious bliss.