It’s that time of year again. Birds are singing, grass is greening, flowers are blooming, navels are showing. That means yet another hunt season is drawing to a close. This season was cursed by some of the worst, wettest weather I can remember. We got off to a fairly good start in October. November was a little worse. December-March were the pits. I only hunted 10 times in those 4 months, because the ground was usually either too frozen or too muddy. But at least we managed to end with a pretty good day on Wednesday. Despite his lack of exercise, Crossbo was his usual super self. Have I ever mentioned I love my horse?
Normally, at this time of year, I mention that the sadness of the end of hunt season is brightened by the improving scenery on campus as the student body (un)dresses appropriately for the warmer weather. But I got my moving orders last week, and I’ll be leaving my vantage point in the heart of campus and relocating to an office on the fringes, far from the teeming masses of young humanity. Rather than a sidewalk filled with throngs of students during class breaks, my new office has a splendid view of a parking lot and a pile of coal.
I guess this year’s silver lining is that the lack of hunting has left me with a nice quantity of rocknrye in the fridge, optimistically mixed in the futile hope that surely it would stop raining sometime. With another month of aging, it should be splendid for
As I got ready to post this entry, I realized that it is a minor milestone, number 500. Number 1 was dated September 20, 2002. That’s a little less than 100 entries per year. My recent average has been much lower. I don’t know whether I’m running out of things to say, or whether I never had anything to say and have just gotten more reluctant to write about nothing. In any case, the next 500 will probably take a lot more than 5 years unless I have an incredible surge of creativity.