Christmas with guns

Some of my fondest childhood memories... (wow its weird saying that) involve hunting. I was born and raised on it. When I was little I would be forced to wait with my grandma and aunts in the mornings, excitedly eating their cooking and waiting for my dad and the rest of the motley crew of my family to get back in. The few times at that age when I went out with my dad I was always so bored and finally begged to go back inside. Finally though I hit the age and took hunters safety. I was a part of things now. I didn't have to wait inside any longer, nope I was now part of the crew that got up before dark and headed out into the cold to take my chances and try and bag that buck! One year it was so cold and I sat out there so long that my pants actually froze to my legs (not fun, let me tell you) but afterwards when it was time to head in that's when the fun really started. Sitting in the warm house with all my uncles and the other guys I got to listen to stories of years past, and enjoy fresh baked bread. Until one year I finally got to add my own story to the mix, and as part of our family tradition earned my right to drink coffee. I got my first deer and boy was I excited theres nothing like it and for me it was an initiation of sorts. The past few years I have been to busy with school to be out there, but someday I hope I can get back in the game. Good luck to anyone going out there