For the last few years, I’ve done a pretty good job of sticking to a new birthday tradition. The longer waterfowl seasons have helped, and when a duck or goose hunt isn’t in the cards, I can hunt pheasants at one of several bird farms that aren’t far away.
I’d love to spend my birthday the way I have for the past few years; hunting ducks or geese up by Torrington or chasing long-tailed goony birds with my golden retriever. But ever since my boys got interested in hunting, I just don’t have as much fun when I go by myself. Colby’s got a basketball game up in Lusk tomorrow, though, and Logan’s busy with a project for 4-H. So I might try to sneak up to Lusk and watch my oldest son play his first game of the year, instead.
We can’t hunt on Sunday, either, because that’ll be Colby’s turn to work on his ranching skills. He got the opportunity to attempt to catch a calf at the National Western Stock Show, and if he catches it, he gets to keep it and show it next year at the stock show. So there’s a lot going on this weekend.
But I have Monday off from work for Martin Luther King Day, so maybe I can still sneak in a hunt on this long weekend. I won’t be able to take the kids, because for once, they have to go to school on a day I don’t have to work. It won’t be quite as wonderful without my little shadows tromping around with me, but I’m sure I’ll survive.
One way or another, I’ll find a way to get outside this weekend. I might not be able to do much on my actual birthday, but it still counts if it’s close, right? At least, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
