FaceBook’s an interesting place these days. It’s funny because you can start a conversation with just one sentence and 5 minutes later literally people from all over the world are joining in with their opinions on what got said. Here in Arkansas we just recently wrapped up deer season . We live in LA ( Lower Arkansas) 🙂 and hunting and fishing is a way of life for a large majority of people here. In my family it goes back so many generations it is even traced in our family’s surnames. My maiden name WAS DEER. My husband’s name is WOODS. So quite literally it is in our blood. When I was barely big enough to walk my Daddy would put me in a sleeping bag and tote me into the woods, , prop me up against a tree, and let me sleep while he waited for the deer or squirrel to come by. I didn’t realize at the time , we didn’t just do this for fun, we ate wild meat like rabbit, deer, squirrel, because it was cheap, and we were not just the richest people in the world. The funny thing is we ate so well we never noticed. But back to FaceBook. We got into a conversation about the “RIGHT” way to prepare deer meat. Practically everyone said you must, you just simply MUST skin and soak the deer meat in ice and salt water for several days before pounding it tender and thin and cooking it. Well, my husband , myself and my family had NEVER heard of such a thing! My husband can clean and skin a deer faster than just about any person I’ve ever seen . He makes those fellas in the butcher shops look like amateurs, lol. But he’s had lots of practice. When he gets a deer and hangs it to butcher , he skins it, and quarters up the tenderloins . Then I’m cutting it up in the kitchen , pounding it flat, salting and peppering it, putting a little flour on it, and frying it thin and crispy . Pour a little milk, flour, and salt back in the pan, and stir. Making the thickest creamiest white gravy you ‘ve ever seen. Just the way my Daddy used to do it. So not only does it taste out of this world, to eat it reminds me of sitting next to that old oak in my sleeping bag, waiting for Daddy to say, “I got one. We can go now.” So many memories. Food for thought. Food for the body. Food for my soul.
I need the feel of the warm sunshine on my face. The sound of the birds , waking up to find their own breakfasts. The smell of the tomatoes in the garden , after the rain. I visited our biggest city for a doctor’s visit, yesterday. We were early so we toured the grounds, and found the outdoor garden with the waterfall and pond. There were trees and birds. But , in the background, steady, was the sound of a metropolis. The car horns, the people talking, sirens, and over it all the constant , rushing drone of traffic. I felt bad that even that the small bit of nature there was overwhelmed with such a large amount of noise. I understand that there are people who love the hustle and bustle of a big city. The choices of restaurants, shops, and modern conveniences is a huge draw, I’m sure. But to be so far from the earth, with cement and glass all around? I have to say , I find it extremely unsettling. I can’t imagine living my daily life in a place like that. It all seems too sterile somehow. It’s as if there is a surplus of people , but a deficit of humanity. I was grateful to get back to my little house in the “sticks”. To walk barefoot in the grass again.