UnderWoman's First Hunt....

Despite being satisfied with the scent killers and scent enhancers she had bought to the table, UnderWoman’s first hunting trip had not gone as planned:

First, Scoot had placed her in a padded suit that made her look like Elmer Fudd, and had photographed her from the most unflattering angles.

Then, assorted guns or rifles…or whatever you called them…had powerful kickbacks for which she was unprepared.

And all chastised her on the morning of the hunt, when they had risen at 4:00 a.m., and dressed all in cammo, albeit with bright splashes of orange…as if to signify paradoxically, that they were both of nature and in no way part of nature.

“Even her feet can’t be quiet,” they chided her. “Hear how she tromps through fallen leaves and breaks branches underfoot! No bucks will be stopping by this day!”

On the car ride home, UnderWoman was dazed and contused.

As she was dozing in the back seat, with EdLectric and Atomic Seltzer (Ed’s son) arguing loudly up front, Merrie Do-It tried to read soothingly and instructively to her.

Merrie: “Here’s a story about a UVA medical school student with an 8-month-old son who was spelunking in a cave in Oregon and fell to his death. You have to be careful. Do you remember when your Dad was caught in a cave?”

“Mom, it was a rock, The Lemon Squeezer, in a tourist trap in New Hampshire.”

Merrie: “You always make light of me and your Dad! But the rocks were real. Franconia Notch, remember?”

UnderWoman: “There were guides and guards everywhere. And a sign that warned folks not to go into the Lemon Squeezer if they were adults or at all claustrophobic. Dad was stuck for like, what, 15 minutes?”

“Still, it was scary....”

UnderWoman remembers that trip for another reason: On what was planned as a pit stop en route to New Hampshire, Wendy Do-It became enamored with Manhattan -- was convinced that it was where she was from and where she always would be.

Grog, on the other hand, would be taken with nature, with New Hampshire’s White Mountains, and would decide to base his life on the great outdoors.

None of them were too happy about the drive, however.

While Merrie and Archer argued bitterly about the best way to and from Mount Washington from their Mittersill Alpine Resort, Wendy had an asthma attack in the back seat. Grog threw up in a bucket. And Scoot stuck his hand in it.

Archer, always the optimist, speculated that Scoot would become the doctor in the family.

He was right!

But back to Brian…..