It was a happy day. The end.
Lesson #3: You do not "catch" deer, elk, duck, pheasants, etc. You catch fish, but hunters do not catch anything. They get stuff. I say potayto/potahto. The end result is a dead animal either way. But for some reason, asking the question "did you catch one?" upon your husband's return from a hunting trip is likely to elicit one of two responses - laughter or anger. Fortunately, laughter is probably the more likely response. They think it's cute that you think they "catch" an elk. However, there is the possibility, especially if they did not in fact "catch" one and they have explained to you the difference between "catch" and "get" before, that their response will not be quite so jovial. So while it is tempting to ask if they "caught" one to make them laugh, I advise you do so cautiously.
Lesson #4: Facial hair, apparently, brings you luck when hunting. The more facial hair, the better the luck. It's just a simple evolutionary fact, although somewhat difficult to prove. Another fact - facial hair makes kissing uncomfortable. The more facial hair, the more uncomfortable. This is yet another example of being stuck between a rock and a hard place. You can choose to either bear the pain of kissing or complain enough that it gets shaved off. While complaining seems like the better option, it will most definitely be your fault if they do not "catch" one on the hunt and you will likely hear about it for many years to come. So I say live with the uncomfortable kissing.
Lesson #5: This is an important one. Even though you may not really care where your husband is hunting, make sure you ask and know where he will be before he goes. If he tells you and you have never heard of the place before, write it down. I realized the importance of this one time when my husband was a little later than he had said. An hour ticked by (with his birthday dinner getting cold) and I wasn't too worried, but once two hours had passed, I started to consider what I would do if he didn't come home soon. Cell phone service is basically non-existent in the areas he hunts, so that wasn't an option. It was when I imagined myself calling 911 report my lost husband that I realized I didn't really know where he was. I imagined the call going something like this:
911 operator: "911 dispatch. How can I help you?"
Me: "Yes, my husband was supposed to be home a long time ago and I haven't seen him yet."
911 operator: "Okay ma'm, can you tell me where he is?"
Me: "He's hunting."
911 operator: "And where is he hunting?"
Me: "In the mountains."
911 operator: "The mountains are a pretty big place. Can you tell me which mountains he is in so we could send someone to the correct spot?"
Me: "The Rocky Mountains, sir."
911 operator: "Well, that narrows it down to about 6 states. Can you give me any other information."
Me: Silence.
Not exactly helpful, is it? Now, I do try to pay attention to where he is going so that I could be a little more knowledgeable given the above scenario. Since he frequently hunts in two states, I at least try to know which of the two states he will be in!
Lesson #5: All hunts are not created equal. There is a hierarchy of hunts, which as a non-hunter you are best not to try and understand. I suppose the hierarchy is a little different for each hunter, but the bottom line is that there are some hunts that don't "count." It took me awhile to figure this one out. One year, my husband complained all summer long that he didn't have any hunts to go one that year. I even started to feel a little bad for him (or maybe I just wished he had a hunt to go on so I didn't have to hear his complaints). Then September rolled around and he started talking about which weekends he was going hunting. "Whoa, hold on a minute," I said, "I thought you weren't going on any hunts this year." My husband explained that this was just the regular season rifle hunt, which everyone knows doesn't count. You don't have to do anything special, you just show up and buy a tag. So, a hunt only counts if you have to draw for it. In my husband's case, any hunt in which you use a rifle are also lower in the hierarchy. Much better to do an archery or muzzleloader hunt (speaking of which, I have yet to figure out what a muzzleloader is...yet another hunting lesson to be learned). One other caveat - only certain animals count. The same year that he had "no hunts" because he was only going on the regular season rifle hunt, he also went pheasant hunting. That somehow didn't count either.
Lesson #7: On the subject of fishing, a rod and a pole are not the same thing. You do not, under any circumstances, go fly fishing with a pole. You'd think that when someone made this mistake, the other person would easily understand what was truly meant. Instead, the response was to act as if I had asked if he had remembered to bring his stiletto's to the river - total confusion.
Lesson #8: Not all hunters are created equal. When we married, I'll admit that I had a pretty stereotyped view of hunters. I thought they were all lawless crazies with no respect for life or property. My experiences with hunters up to that point gave me little evidence to the contrary. I have since had many experiences with my husband that show how narrow-minded my stereotype was. I'll just share a few examples. When we are driving down the road during hunting season and pass a truck with a dead animal hanging out the back for everyone to admire, my husband is always annoyed. I was surprised the first time he talked about the lack of respect it showed to the animal and how stupid it was to display your "trophy" for all to see. I've learned how wrong it is for a hunter to stay in their truck and hunt from the road. Oh boy does that make his blood boil! He is more annoyed with trespassers than I ever thought to be. There are several relatives/friends/acquaintances he refuses to hunt with because he doesn't think they follow appropriate hunting ethics - a phrase I would have considered an oxymoron until a few years ago.
I really understood this during last year's deer hunt. My husband had been out at my father's ranch and had shot at a deer. The deer ran off. He spent many hours and hiked many miles searching for this deer in case he had shot it, just to make sure that the animal was okay and he hadn't left it wounded. He didn't want to shoot another animal in case he had killed that one. He was never able to find it and came home absolutely sick about it. It actually made him physically ill to wonder what had happened to this animal.
My husband loves wildlife. Most of his enjoyment of hunting comes in tracking animals in their habitat and watching them throughout the summer. I could never understand how, when he claims to love them so much, he could actually kill them. Seeing the near-reverence he had for the deer he may have wounded helped me to see that he truly does love them. I may never understand the killing part, but I think I am starting to understand a few other things. So, I'll just enjoy this October alone as usual and maybe when November comes, there will still be enough time for me to head up to the mountains for my one run of the year.
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Next, there was Oktoberfest. At the real Oktoberfest, they celebrate mostly by drinking beer. At our Oktoberfest, we substitute German apple juice (apple juice with club soda) and Daddy's favorite mission foods. This year's menu: Rouladen, Close, Sauerkraut, Bratwurst, and Bismarck Eiche. Don't hold me to the spelling on those foods.
And lastly, there was our Halloween party with my cousins and all their cute kiddo's. We don't see each other nearly enough, but it is so fun when we do. Cole and Josh spent the afternoon terrorizing all the children with their weapons (gun for Josh, sword for Cole), but other than that everyone got along quite well.
The mummy wrap game - I'm not sure who won, but we had quite a group of little mummies wandering about for a few minutes.
Pumpkin painting - the kids take this activity pretty seriously. Last year, Cole's pumpkin didn't dry until Thanksgiving. This year, he opted for a scary eyeball pumpkin.
The first rule of cookie decorating - you can never get too much candy on there. Actually, I think that's the only rule of cookie decorating.
Annie's favorite part of the day - the chickens. She snuck over to their little coop about every 4 minutes. I don't think we'll be getting her a flock anytime soon, but it was cute.
My favorite part of the afternoon - watching my aunties Monster Mashing by the refreshment table. Cindy was a Cougarette you know - she's still got the moves. 
What a fun week! October is a great month.
On this day 154 years ago, Isaac Singer patented the sewing machine motor.
On this day 121 years ago, the public was first admitted to the Washington Monument.
On this day 69 years ago, John Lennon was born. On this day 34 years ago, his son Sean was born.
On this day 36 years ago, Elvis and Priscilla Presley were divorced.
On this day 31 years ago, my husband was born.
On this day 30 years ago, he turned one.
On this day 29 years ago, he turned...just kidding!
On this day 8 years ago, he asked me to marry him with a sparkly diamond on a snowy night at a mountain lake with fireworks flashing across the shore. I gave him a backpack that year. Even though it was North Face, I'm pretty sure I got the better gift.
On this day 5 years ago, he shot an elk and was 4 hours late for his birthday dinner.
On this very day, we will celebrate by going to a movie with our munchkins in tow. Not quite as romantic as that day 8 years ago, but just as sweet.
I like this day. Happy Birthday, Floyd. I love you.
We didn't make it to the top, but considering I was carrying Annie, the backpack, and a picnic blanket while being dragged by Daisy, I still felt rather heroic. Mostly because I took Daisy. For the record, I would greatly have preferred to leave her home. 
That's a smile, just in case you weren't sure if Annie was happy or sad. FYI - she was adorable in the pink John Deere sweatshirt.
