So. I know I’ve been silent for a while. A long while.
I drafted a post months ago… in early December, actually. It’s well-written, it contains a message, and it’s very very me. But I have not pressed publish. Why? Well, lots of reasons. I was sick for a while in December, porphyria attack. And then again in January with the flu… the remnants of which seem to not want to truly leave me be.
Work. The Holidays. We’re buying a house.
Reasons… kinda, but really they’ve become my excuses. These are excuses.
You see, this post I wanted to share was about hunting season. It’s drafted title is, in fact, I killed a Deer and I liked It. (get it?)
You’d have to be living under a rock to not be in the midst of the gun-control melodrama that’s taken over our collective conscience lately. The issues, outcries, politicizing, rallying, fear-mongering, paranoia, anger, and all the rest of it have just been a lot to deal with. As a responsible gun owner, a legally licensed hunter and skilled shooting enthusiast – am I ready for what could happen if I publicly declare that I am okay with guns? I wasn’t sure.
I’m still not totally sure about how to deal with any potential fallout that could occur. And I know that’s likely. I have friends and loved ones deeply entrenched on both sides of every proverbial line in the sand. And while I’m pretty durn open and honest about who I am, and what I believe. (I mean, my Fb has plenty of pics of me holding and shooting guns… and not just hunting guns, but handguns, and yes – even an AR-15).
In the online blogging silence that ensued, my own internal voice grew stronger. I do know who I am, and I love who I am.
And I, take it or leave it, am a gal with a gun. I killed a deer, and I liked it. I am not irreverent, malicious, cruel or casual in my approach to hunting, killing an animal, taking the meat from his body, and preparing it to be my own food. In fact, I’m in awe of such power; I’m full of respect and admiration for the processes of life and the insight unto them that I have gained when looking down the barrel of a gun and feeling my finger on the trigger.
This is NOT a battlecry for gun rights. This is NOT about Newtown or the CIA or our gun laws.
This is just a blog about me. And at times, I am a hunter. A happy hippie hunter. Don’t think it’s possible? Give my post a read and hear me out.
I’m pushing publish on it now. I’m ready to be okay being me.