Look at my little cutie-patootie of a niece! I can't believe how big she's gotten already!

The Rabbit Hunter

A couple weekends ago Andre and I had the chance to get away for a couple days and stay up in the mountains in West Virginia. My parents--or rather my dad, since my mom doesn't really ever go there--own a hunting camp in Cass, not far from Snowshoe. We used to go up there every Christmas break as a family and go skiing, and I even took a big group of people from school last February for a ski trip. But after five years, Andre still had not had the pleasure of staying at "camp" as we call it. On the drive there, he tried to get me to explain more what it was like. "It's a cabin, right?" he asked. Mmm, that sounds a little too quaint. "A lodge?" Still too quaint. It's just a very hard place to describe. It's an older, two-story house with five bedrooms but only one bathroom (although there is a VERY nice outhouse for when the house is full), furnished and decorated mainly with my mom's (and other wives) discarded things and all the animal heads/antlers/skins that are not allowed in to be hung in their home. I will say, the kitchen is kind of charming because there is this big old wood burning stove and a huge farmhouse sink.

Anyways, we went up there to get away and just relax before the craziness of third year started. We were planning on going cycling on the trail, but since the forecast called for thunderstorms every day, we didn't even bother taking our bikes. We did take fishing stuff, but didn't end up doing that either. So what did we do? Well...we went rabbit hunting. (Ok, not really hunting--we just took a long walk around dad's property, and saw a bunch. No animals were harmed in the taking of these pictures.) It turned out to be pretty easy, since my brother-in-law apparently planted several small gardens just to bait the animals out into the open. Thanks Brian!

Here are some pictures of the rabbit hunter in action.

No deer sightings until our drive home--we saw three, very conveniently running right in front of our car. No close calls though, and everyone lived. There was even a little tiny spotted fawn with its mama. Maybe one day I'll see that fawn again...in a bowl of stew.

Five Years

Dre and I just celebrated our fifth wedding anniversary a little over a week ago. We spent it the way everyone wishes they could spend a romantic weekend--at an extended family reunion surrounded by 35 or so people. Actually, we had a really great time, and were even able to sneak away for a quiet walk and a noisy dinner.

It's funny how much we know about each other after these five years. For instance, I know that it is next to impossible to get a nice picture of Andre. So I was sitting with my aunt at the reunion picnic while Andre was watching a rousing bocce ball game and I said "watch this" as I took this picture:

And then I said, "Hey Andre, look over here and smile", and this is what he did:

Every stinkin' picture starts this way! If I wait long enough or make a fuss, he'll stop and smile. I didn't do that this time, and this is what we are stuck with.