SAIPUA

It's hunting season and the dogs get dressed every morning in their neon superhero capes so that if they're off in the woods they don't get shot by an enthusiastic sportsman.

I hate hunting season because I hate guns - but more than I hate guns, I hate gun culture which up here has a lot to do with twisted notions of freedom, and a very antiquated idea of manhood. As if riding around on an ATV with loaded rifles has anything to do with masculinity. I have more masculinity than that.

Nea also hates guns and quivers indoors when my neighbor down the road shoots some sort of gigantic, semi automatic rifle at target practice. We inherited two hunters with this property, who have hunted it for a long time before us, and continue to. They plow our driveway in return. Paul and Neil are very nice and respectable and share the meat with us when we're lucky. When I get angry in general at hunting culture and want to tell them NO MORE! I conjure my feelings about sharing and ownership. How do I own this land anymore than the creatures and people who live here and use it? That's the future I want, and it has to start with my own feelings about sharing. I also, very much enjoy venison.

Also, carrots. Also, Kerrygold. Also I enjoy a fermented vegetable, and up in that picture you can see the edge of a recent fermenting project aimed at saving the last of our hot peppers. No one ever died from eating a fermented vegetable says one book on the topic. But a lot of people die of guns.

We don't own a gun here, but I have shot one once just to see if I could. I'd rather have a very sharp knife and a german shepherd. I tried to buy a simple .22 once after a run in with a rabid raccoon but ironically the salesman made it seem very difficult for me or else I just didn't try that hard.

The knife is for putting a sick animal out of its misery. The german shepherd is for the type of men who sometimes drive up here and ask about hunting our land and then ask for my husband when I tell them NO.

I'm angry this morning.