Sunday was my thirty *gulp* second birthday. My husband and I needed to complete the second 1/2 of the first 1/3 of the barbed wire fence we’d been working on, as well as begin the first 1/2 of the second 1/3, so we sent the boys to church with their grandparents. They gladly went because this was the Sunday that the church would be having their all-church dinner. I, on the other hand, worked through dinner without a break because anyone who has ever worked with my husband knows that he doesn’t even know the B-word (break) exists.
Even if he would have offered a lunch break, I probably would have declined. I didn’t want to be out in the woods any longer than needed, being that it was the final day of rifle season.
The only thing keeping me going was the fact that my Mother was preparing a birthday supper of beef tenderloin peppercorn with brown gravy, mixed herb pesto with homemade pasta, baked potatoes, fresh green beans and pumpkin bars with a gingerbread crust. I think I ate 4 servings worth of each. Then I went home and fell asleep at 7:00p.m. and slept for the next 12 hours straight.
I was awakened by my 7-year-old, dressed in head-to-toe camo, gun in hand and whispering, “Mom? I’m going out to get you a birthday present. I’ll be back soon.”
Next thing I knew I was frying up a squirrel for breakfast. The last time I received a squirrel for my birthday was back in the 1800’s when I was a teenager and it was in the form of a bikini. My brothers thought this was hilarious.
By 9:00a.m., we were all packed in the truck ready for our field trip to the field to work on the second 1/2 of the second 1/3 of the never-ending barbed wire fence that has no road access and can only be reached by foot with a pack of T-posts in hand, winding through trees and rocks.
They helped for a bit, carrying T-posts and handing out clips.
But they soon tired of behaving and took to wrestling by the fire and barbed wire fence.