Hunting? Fishing? Hiking? Camping? Talking about hunting. Talking about fishing. Talking about camouflage. Talking about trucks. Talking about big bucks and big bulls…. Does this sound like your life? Mine too. I am married to an outdoorsman.
My outdoorsman is into just about every sort of hunting or fishing that there is. To say the least, I hear about it a lot. I laugh at him daily.
Truth be told, I think that hunting and fishing are wonderful activities that keep people active, healthy, and out of low-life bars. I’d prefer that my outdoorsman hunt and fish rather than sit on the couch and drink a six-pack every night or go get hammered at the bar with his buddies. Granted, there are definitely those beer slammin’ times too, but they generally involve campfires or football. I am grateful for hunting and fishing because not only do they get the guy out of my hair so I can go shopping without him nagging at me, “Are we done yet?“ I also appreciate all of the hormone-free, natural food we gain from his expeditions. But also because all of that hiking keeps my man’s booty firm! Rarrrr!
I have gotta tell you though, being married to an outdoorsman is not without its trials and tribulations. Mostly, I just have to laugh at the crazy guy. I once was told, if you cannot laugh at all your significant other’s quirks they will just drive you crazy. So since I don’t want to end up in a straightjacket drooling, I embrace the wacko. Yes, he is an outdoors wacko. From the incessant bugling practice, to the forgotten dead fish in the cooler in August, to the special hunting-scented laundry soaps and reading hunting magazines while perched on the throne for an hour at minimum, I just have to laugh. And keep laughing when I really just want to strangle the camouflage-clad man.
I wish there were something that made me as giddy as a school girl on a daily basis as hunting and fishing does for him. Yes, I have hobbies I love. I even enjoy going fishing and camping. I have to admit though, there’s nothing I would repeatedly get up for every weekend at 4 a.m., freeze to death, rub my body down in estrus stink, snort and snuffle like a wild animal in public, spend every spare cent I have on a new camouflage pattern, or be willing to eat gas station corn dogs day in, day out. Hunting and fishing are his passion and I am grateful for them, but I just gotta share the crazy little nuances that make up an outdoorsman.
If you have an outdoorsman in your life, you’ll likely appreciate knowing that you are not alone! There is a special club that all of us belong to. This elite, women-only club is called the Camo Queens. This year-round club becomes extremely active as soon as the calendar rolls around to September and the outdoorsmen turn their attention to bows and arrows. Our credit cards have been impatiently waiting for a work out while the outdoorsmen froth at the mouth, lusting for hunting season to begin once again. Yes, throughout the summer they go fishing and hiking, but nothing compares to the hell-bent fury that overwhelms outdoorsmen when they know that it is now big-game season. God help us all.
I am grateful for the encouragement and giggling my outdoorsman has given me while writing this book. When I read him a new chapter, he laughs and hides his face in his hands. He loves to hear how I see the crazy antics that he considers just plain normal. Wait, what part of rubbing elk estrus all over you is normal? As I was writing this book, he read along, remarking on his favorite sections. He even pretended to act embarrassed about some of it. Of course, he loves the camouflage lingerie chapter the best because it gets him thinking about women and underwear. Men!
Excerpted from the book Confessions of a Camo Queen: Living with an Outdoorsman, available from Farcountry Press.
