Today was a "hunting" day for the males of our family.
SuperBoy had a "campout" at school, where the highlight of his day was "going on a bear hunt".
My grandpa used to sit me on his knee, and we'd go on a "bear hunt". I can still feel the rhythm of the rhymes ... but I can't remember how the actions all went. It was a big deal to me. I cried myself to sleep at our last big family reunion - all the grandkids were growing up; I was 7 months pregnant with SuperBoy, and we were camping in Moab, UT. We gathered around
the campfire, where Grandpa told us stories. Some seemed to get bored, when Grandpa sugested we "go on a bear hunt". The idea was quickly shuffled aside by most, since everyone was "too old" for that anymore. I seemed to be the only one who wanted to listed to Grandpa's voice swish, squlch and spash through the mud, water, and tall grass (other than DH, who just knew how much it ment to me) I can't remember the last time I sat, listening wide-eyed to Grandpa's tale of our bear hunt. Today, as SuperBoy excitedly told me the story complete with a few familiar actions, I smiled, and felt my chest well-up. I am so glad the Bear Hunt will live on.
In the other hunting news, DH left an hour ago ... he and BIL and FIL are going Elk hunting for the weekend. I have a hard time with "The Hunt". Maybe I watched Bambi too many times as a child, or maybe it's just the nausea from seeing the animal tied on the truck after, but I think Elk are such majestic animals, and I want to cry at one being seen through a scope. It is so hard every year, since DH is torn ... knowing I hate the hunt, but it's time with the men of his family ... it's important to him (and he likes the fact that he's the best shot of them all.)
I think I prefer the "bear hunt". Everyone, including the bear, are safe and well alive at the end. Not to mention that it's imaginary. No need for DH to leave for 3-4 days.
I wonder how the mighty-hunters would respond if I suggest an imaginary Elk hunt for next year. We can all sit around a camp fire, hands sticky from smores, and clap our hands and pat our laps in rhythm ... story-telling in sing-song voices, imagining our way through the Aspen mountains in search of an Elk.
Think they'll go for my idea?