grenade

My house is representative of a hunting household. Right now, during the season, it looks like someone lobbed a grenade into a sporting goods store. Equipment, supplies, boots, and essentials everywhere. The kids are way bigger, each year, so a lot of the stuff is obsolete. That, I jettison, in keeping with my new attitude of 'keep to the basics'.

But, newer and bigger stuff takes it's place, and it is up to me to sort, clean, organize and store it. The kids, of course, are busy at school. They call with lists and last minute worries, expected in the experienced hunter who has to rely on someone else to pack for them.

I also take food orders. My middle son, especially, worries about our diet in camp. Seems that he, as his siblings have, realize that Dad's diet of steak and noodles won't cut it for them. I have risen to the occasion, preparing chicken fettuccini, salads, meat loaf with lots of veggies, homemade clam chowder, cornbread, brown rice, fresh fruit, you know, all the stuff to fuel young athletic bodies in training.

I have always done so. The Dad unit has not. He partakes of a simple and probably dangerous diet that nearly thirty years of effort on my part has not altered. Thank goodness for statin drugs...