I Am This Woman

I have returned from Africa, and I am jet-lagged, -whelmed (I pendulum between under and over on an hourly basis) with my life here, and changed.

This might shock you, or not surprise you. If it thrills you, please do write to me or comment.

I am this woman, and I am a hunter.

For the last five years, I have worked for a hunting organization. I began my shift there at “hunting-neutral,” more in an effort to feed my family and keep a roof over our heads. As for hunting, my family did it, we had guns, it was no big deal. I was never invited along. But I understood that world, and I had a contribution to make. It was a good career move.

Fast forward to Hungary last year - I was invited to hunt and I got a gold medal deer in the forest on a beautiful day. My first shot in the field as a hunter at age 49, and it was a gold medal animal. I have the PDF of my published story on this hunt, but have yet posted it. I will later, or you can ask for it if you’re interested.

I went to Africa on safari for both photos and animals. I took my father’s rifle, as is, after 35 years of inactivity, and I hunted animals on foot using all legal and ethical means of fair chase. My take was one each: blesbok, red hartebeest, blue wildebeest, kudu, gemsbok, warthog, jackel and african wildcat. The later two were at the request of the farmer who was having predation problems among his pregnant springbok and sable population.

The photos are in this Flickr photoset.

I will blog about Africa from time to time, but I will probably write about hunting in another blog as yet to be developed. This is a part of me and my life, but not necessarily part of the future mission and goals of this blog (and The Next Big Things To Come).

Hunting, in my opinion and from my research, is something that people have done for centuries for various reasons. As with any ages-old technology in our modern/post-modern age, there are permutations and developments that push the envelope of certain sensibilities, and there is an active conversation among global hunters and shooters about these issues. But it is not a black and white world, and it continues to fascinate me, as does the world of material culture (handcrafts, creativity, cooking and ‘women’s work’).

I like the fact that my very presence in the field with a gun causes some paradigm shifting and confusion to some. “A woman hunter” is still a rather novel term, but I know there are many women who hunt and don’t care two figs for what people think (this is one of the benefits of turning 50).

But Artemis and Diana, goddesses of the hunt, are both embodied as women, as goddesses. Something to ponder.

As for Africa, I left a part of me there, just as I did with Hungary and Spain. There is much to be said for world travel, but I never knew that I would be so affected and changed by meeting people and sharing such a deep connection as hunting with them. It was amazing, wonderful, awful, aweful and life-changing.

I am this woman, and I am grateful for what I’ve experienced.

Cake is a wee knitted elephant who has come from Kentucky to Texas, and will be travelling with us to Africa. Here is a failed passport photo (apparently, profile shots are not ok).

When he’s done with us in South Africa, he will be headed to destination top secret for further adventures.

His hosts will be photographing him and taking him to great places, and then sending him on his way. Our hope is that he will circumnavigate the globe. If he has enough pages in his passport, that is.

(29 of 50)

Call me “Four Eyes.” Actually, I have bifocals, so that would be “Six Eyes.”

One part of aging is the inevitable need for glasses. This started for me in my mid-30s when I was in graduate school and reading a lot. But I didn’t believe it. I look back and see the truth now. However, at the time, I thought it was just overuse (which it probably ALSO was). Lots of reading in grad school and not all of it can be done at optimum ergonomics.

Finally, around 42, I succumbed to getting some “cheaters” as they are called, and it rocked my world. (more…)

Memorial Day Weekend, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

(26 of 50)
Some days, you have to work. Some days, you need to play with Sculpey. And sometimes you just have to ride the rollercoaster.

Drifts at sunset, originally uploaded by Andrea_R.

I am lucky to have friends in far-flung places, where it gets cold and snowy and windy. They step outside and snap photos, this one from Andrea in New Brunswick. I get to see them from the warmth of my office, in my robe and slippers, coffee brewing. No layers, no chapstick, no lost mittens.

Part of me wants to be impervious to cold, wind, snow and ice. I want to dance on the rim of this little snow canyon and howl at the moon. But I have evolved and adapted to wear a robe and slippers, not a wolf’s fur, and I use my paws to type very fast (and sometimes accurately!) rather than digging, clawing or prancing through the woods.

And since I like guacamole, shrimp and chocolate cookies, rather than snowshoe hare sushi or pack-hunted whitetail, I think the wolf and I have made a pretty good deal with evolution.

Snowy Woods, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

One thing not captured by the camera is the silence, the hush that all the snow creates. For me, there is a delicate balance between the beauty and solitude of snowy woods and the ever-creeping, pain-inflicting cold. If I’m warm enough for now, and within 10 minutes of hot chocolate and a fire, I can marvel at the loveliness.

Or I can enjoy the photo sent by my Hungarian friend.

What, you mean you don’t “texturize” your yarn pre-start or midway?

I went to a friend’s house last night, taking my brand spanky new bag of bottle green yarn - three buns of Rowan KidSilk to make the Alterknits Multilayered Shawl ( a tube of knitting through which you pull a fine piece of silk chiffon!). It would be what I bought with the company gift card “bonus.” I stuffed the current project in there too - a bamboo and soy yarn basket weave scarf – thinking that I might be one of the guests in the corner doing some knitting while the party revolved around me.

Fast forward to time to leave the party where I had been a kitchen helper rather than a corner-sitting guest. Where is the bag? Oh dear, I must have left it at home, silly me. Or maybe, just one more look around the house for it? No. Hmm, must be at home 40 miles away. But I got home and nada. Zip. Nichts. (more…)

My dear friend in Hungary sent me some awesome winter photos, taken this week. It’s wonderful to know that somewhere there really is a winter wonderland. I love the idea of a white Christmas, but really am glad I don’t need to dress in two pairs of socks, long underwear, shirt, sweater, vest, etc. (more…)

You know, I can quit any time I want. I really can. I just don’t want to do it with no notice, and gradually over the course of a busy morning of impending deadlines.

I suspect Time Warner’s infamous local disservice because when I checked my voice mail, I listened to Fembot speaking as though she were standing in front of a very large fan.

In any case, with spotty service, I had to resort to the telephone to do business. I ran some errands in advance of supremely cold weather tomorrow, sat with the Kid who was home sick from school, and managed to wrap some presents for mailing tomorrow. In other words, I was not allowed to sit in a chair for 8 hours staring at a screen.

Not too shabby.

One bonus of not working online but sitting and cleaning up the desktop is that I ran across some cool photos from last Christmas.

Zilker Park Tree, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

Call Him Flash, originally uploaded by tigerwillow.

For a few brief moments, the light flashy thing the Kid bought with his allowance lit up the night.