Each year, my husband, father-in-law, and family friends, head out of town to hunt for deer. This wouldn't be anything to bat an eye at, except that where we live, we have deer in our field.
But alas, men need to have their adventures. And up until now, I have happily allowed this to happen.
I know, very generous of me. As long as my Mister doesn't come home empty-handed, I am happy to allow this yearly ritual to occur.
Problem is, my Mister couldn't contain his excitement over the beauty of the hunting ground.
And that's where I come in.
|Lake Roosevelt, Washington|
|The hills around Republic, Washington|
|My dream bull who was taking his "ladies" out on the town and daring us not to interfere.|
|Early morning at camp. Exquisite.|
The only problem that I've found with hunting camp thus far, is that hunters become illiterate during hunting season.
They especially have problems with the letters W O M E N.
Now, I don't mind sharing, but it becomes an issue when the bathroom is missing something very important.
|This can be seen from the open doorway, which needs to stay open so you can see what you're doing! Did I mention that there is no electricity at camp?|
|The shower. Notice the valance-sized shower curtain?|
And all I've got to say about that is...