No, I am not referring to the Grateful Dead following. I am referring to mounted animals that grace the halls of many a Montanan folk. Montana is famous for its bountiful herds of elk, deer, bison and other eatable creatures. My husband has begun this journey of becoming a Montanan and so 'a hunting he will go.' Fall arrives and weird rituals and intense preparations begin. You know your married to a hunter when:
1. You refer to yourself as the fall widow. And your ladies bible study suddenly has more time to hang out with each other.
2. You begin to hear strange noises in the spare bedroom and ask your husband what the heck that awful racket is. He looks at you indignantly and says it's a predator call....Duh!
3. You look outside and see that a bush outside has suddenly sprouted legs and is moving but really it's your husband trying out new camouflage.
4. Apparently not all camo is the same and God-forbid you don't know the difference between mossy oak and real tree...
5. Your husband FINALLY writes down what he needs on the grocery list...then you realize he wrote "ammo" underneath the milk and butter....
6. You say things like "well I'll cook it but you have to gut it and dress it.." and "did you want to eat the heart?"
I also have come to believe that the amount of mounted animals in your home is a status symbol. And if your really cool you will have a whole room of dead heads. Then and only then will you have reached the title of A True Montanan.