Deer Camp

It's kind of like summer camp.

Except they are grown men.

It's a week that is heavy on food and friendship, yet light on showers and manners.

Manliness, in its purest form.

No girls allowed.

Unless they bring food.

And leave shortly thereafter.

But an exception can be made for snuggly dogs.

Like Woodrow.

Because he thinks he's one of the guys.

Somebody get this dog a beer.

He may not act real manly, but they let Eli come anyway.

And because boys love their accessories too...

my husband had me stitch up some limited edition Mossy Oak farm hats for his hunting buddies.

So basically, I was allowed at deer camp simply because I came bearing gifts of gourmet and I know how to stitch a hat.

In other words, they hunt and gather. I stay home to cook and sew.

It's a good thing I'm not a progressive feminist.

Otherwise they just might find themselves on the wrong end of one of those guns they tote around.

But when trouble strikes, guess which housewife they had to call to come and rescue them?

That's right, I had to fire up the tractor and go save the day.

Because these idiots managed to get two trucks stuck in the field.

Not gonna lie. It felt good to be on my end of things.

We ended the week with a feast.

I think we started a new tradition with our cookout last year.

This year our friend Corey outdid himself.

He made crab legs, quail, sausage and duck.

(By the way, I never realized how friggin' awesome duck is.)

And he whipped it all out without breaking a sweat.

I got stressed over the small task of baking pumpkin pies in the toaster oven at the farm shop.

This dude is cool as a cucumber in the kitchen.

Even when that kitchen is in a barn and includes only a grill, toaster oven and refrigerator.

If you cook it, they will come.

Corey's food is gaining a following here in our area, despite the fact that his catering business is several hours away.

My favorite part of any gathering is when the guys break out their guitars.

And my second favorite part is hanging out with our friends' dogs.

Meet Mahala.

The sweetest baby you'll ever come across.

She can soften the hearts of even the manliest men.

Are you in love yet?

As usual, the party carried well into the night.

Long after my expiration date.

I'm ready for bed and these guys are just now bringing out the cornhole boards.

But I wasn't the only one who couldn't hang all night.

I ended up giving a couple of our guests a ride back to the house.

Except I forgot that I hadn't cleared my car of my unintended Black Friday loot from earlier in the day.

This is the result of grocery shopping at Wal-mart the day after Thanksgiving.

We don't even need another TV.

But now we have one.

So much for restricting my impulse buys to gum and checkout aisle lint rollers.