After a few hours in stand, my phone started to ring.  Not knowing who could be on the other end, I made the necessary movements to answer the phone, only for it to be Jeff telling me that a few does were headed my way.  As he conveyed the information to me over the phone, and as I turned to look behind the stand, two of the does already had me in view and decided it was time to head the other way.

Thanks, Jeff.  And that is pretty much the story of my hunting life lately.

Honestly, though, I wasn’t deterred, and considering that – in just a few hours – there was a good chance that we would probably be bringing our new daughter home from the hospital, I was still in very good spirits.  The morning on stand was awesome, I managed to see a few deer, and the upcoming afternoon brought about the possibility that we could be a complete family again – not shooting a deer could not possibly deter any of that.

Eventually, Jeff and I headed out of the area we were hunting, as he tried to talk me into helping him move a stand across the road in preparation for our upcoming deer season.  I agreed, and we headed across the road to move the stand.

As Jeff sat in the stand, finalizing the wrap around the top, he motions to me and says that a deer is coming up the other side of the ridge.  He’s in the stand, but I’m standing on the trail that she’s trotting down.  I stare down the trail and see her break over the top of the ridge – headed right for me.  Part of me was screaming “move!”, but another part of me wanted to stand still and see how far she’d come before she changed direction.  Finally, just inside of ten yards, and just as I was about to jump behind a nearby tree for cover, our eyes met which caused her to do the quickest 180 I’ve ever saw and head the other way.

If you could’ve seen the way she wheeled around, and exactly how surprised she was, you would’ve died laughing.  Jeff and I laughed like crazy about how close she had gotten to me, and then headed back to the truck.  It was a perfect end to the morning.  And it’s really too bad that we didn’t have a camera rolling to capture the entire incident.

It would be the last outdoors moment of the entire weekend, as we found out late Saturday morning that our new daughter was coming home.  With that, the rest of the weekend was spent in the house with the family.

I’ll be back out for one last bow hunting hoorah on Saturday, though, and next week I’ll be out all day for the opening day of gun season.

There’s still plenty of time left!

Last Tuesday, the 18th, our second edition to the family, who wasn’t supposed to arrive until December 5th, made her grand entrance six weeks early.

Little Mia is doing well, though she’s still sitting in an intensive unit in a local hospital.  She’s improving every day, and we hope to have her home soon, but – until then – my hunting time will be spent driving back and forth to the hospital, and spending time with her big sister.

I may be able to sneak out for a few morning hunts this weekend, but it all depends.   It just depends on how things go this week, and on whether I need to catch up on any sleep.

And I’m totally not complaining about not being able to hunt, so please don’t think that.  At this point in time, I’m thankful that Mia and mommy are doing well, and thanking God every day for watching over Mia as she continues her journey for home.

Hunting will just have to wait – and I’m completely fine with that.

Though I knew this day would come, I honestly didn’t think it would come so soon.  I obviously didn’t discourage her though, and told her I would love for her to go hunting with me; told her that she could go out in the woods with me, sit and watch for deer with me, eat snacks with me, and talk with me about whatever she wanted to.  I told her about how we could spend time together, about the animals we’d see, and about how much fun we’d have.

It was a great moment, because I think she was genuinely interested.

As I walked out the door that morning, and was met by the early morning breeze, thoughts of hunting smacked me right in the face, so I casually mentioned it to her as we headed to the car.  But she didn’t ask the question until about ten minutes later; she must’ve really been processing my observation from earlier, and it just took time for the question to come.  She was genuinely curious about the whole hunting process, and that was music to my ears.

The funniest part of the conversation, though, would come as I got her out of the car, and walked with her to my sister-in-law’s door.  As we headed for the house, she casually asked, “Where is hunting, daddy?”

I obviously have no expectations for our hunting trip.  I’m fully aware that she may be completely bored after a half hour in a blind.  I know that she will probably not be quiet for very long, and I’m absolutely positive that she won’t be still either.  But that doesn’t really matter.  What matters is that she’s interested, that she’s talking with me about it, and that she truly seems excited about heading out into the woods and spending time with me.

If the trip only turns into a walk through the woods, and drinking a box of juice in the blind, I’m completely fine with that.  There will be many opportunities for her – if she chooses to – to “really” hunt later on in life.  For now, all I want is for us to enjoy a walk through the woods, and a few minutes together in a ground blind.

Who knows, if I’m lucky, maybe she’ll even share a Sponge Bob snack with me.

On the other side of that, I’ve always been very open with her about hunting, too.  She knows that we kill deer and turkeys, and that they then become food.  I’ve never tried to shelter her from anything just because it involves a dead animal, and we’ve never sugar coated the hunting experience when discussing it with her either; we just really want her to be aware of the entire hunting process, and how it ultimately provides food for the table.

So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised the other night when, as she took her first few bites of a turkey sandwich – filled with the kind of shaved turkey you buy at the store – she asked mommy, “Did daddy shot this turkey?”

Though her grammar was a little incorrect, I was pleased with the thought process behind the question.  Sadly, though, because of the way my turkey season went this year, I had to explain to her that I didn’t shoot the turkey, but that we bought the turkey at the store.  Of course, I also filled her in on the fact that a turkey was killed in the process; it just wasn’t killed by me.

It was a simple question, which solidified the fact that we really are getting through to her, and that she’s starting to grasp the entire animal-to-food process.

I loved her way of thinking; it’s just really too bad it couldn’t have been turkey I had killed myself.

The previous year she had “helped” me reel in a fish, which, at the time, I had called her first fish, but this trip was the real deal.  With a little help from daddy, she was going to be casting, she was actually going to be using her own pole, and she was going to be reeling in the fish herself.  This was definitely going to be her first true fish!

I was pumped.

It didn’t take much, despite the cooler temps and the fact that – just a few weeks ago – the pond was still ice covered, before a nice little bluegill took our offering.  He hit the wax worm like he hadn’t eaten in weeks, and Abby kept the rod tip high and reeled in her first fish; and, once the fish was on shore, she took off toward mommy, while promptly displaying her “prize”.  She was so proud of herself, and the look on her face told the whole story.

It was perfect.  It was Kodak moment, and I’m glad the wife had the still camera and the video camera at the ready.

As with all kids her age though, her attention span didn’t last too long.  I managed to convince her to catch a few more ‘gills, but, once those were reeled in, she wanted to do a few other things – like play in the sand near the shore.  She never picked up the pole again, but she did make her way around the pond, and let me know that she’d like to “watch me”.  Of course, I was more than happy to let her hang out and watch me pull a few fish out of the pond, especially since, with every bass I caught, she would tell me how good of a job I was doing.

She thinks I should be on the Bassmaster circuit, for sure.

It was an afternoon well spent, and an afternoon which I hope leads to many more afternoons like it.

And it takes quite a bit of skill to set the hook with a 2ft SpongeBob pole.  It’s no wonder she thinks I’m so great at fishing.

But the thing that was generating the most buzz, from blog readers and family alike, was my post from last week that mentioned Abby’s “fish calling” technique.  And since so many wanted to see her calling technique in action, I decided to provide a little taste of it below.

The video is just under two minutes long, but I promise you it’ll be worth the time spent; it’s great stuff, and it’s something my wife and I will never forget.  And maybe, just maybe, the rest of the video will be featured in an upcoming SimplyOutdoors TV episode.  Enjoy!

(It will load, I promise.  You just might have to be a little patient.)

And there was another shadow beside me as well.

Since all of our previous ice fishing excursions involved much preparation and fanfare – loading quads, driving through a foot of snow across gigantic inland lakes, and blistery, sub-zero conditions – we were ready to just sit back, take in some simple ice fishing, and let the world go by.  We wanted a simple ice fishing experience – no quads, minimal preparation, and a short walk to and from a vehicle………because you never can tell when that extra shadow may tire of its first ice fishing experience.

Pine Lake is only about a fifteen minute drive from our house.  The lake is quiet, not very big, and it’s easy to get in and out of; that made it a perfect lake to test out Abby’s ice fishing stamina.  And, honestly, she lasted longer than I thought she would.

We were informed the previous day that sledding down a hill at a pretty good clip isn’t really her thing, so we went into this little adventure with open minds.  My backpack, which normally this time of year would be full of extra gloves, toe warmers, hot chocolate, toilet paper, and other such necessities, was now loaded with a juice cup and My Little Pony fruit snacks – all the necessities that come with making an ice fishing trip a memorable one.

From the very beginning she was completely intrigued, and wanted to know everything I was doing.  She was curious about the auger; she was curious about the hole I made in the ice; and she was curious about everything I touched.  At first, she took to the fishing like a natural – moving the rod tip up and down, and jigging like she had been doing it for years – but as the time began to tick by, she started to get bored.

Then I caught a fish.

She reeled that thing in like a pro, but wanted nothing to do with kissing it or throwing it back.  And then, shortly after that, as I was fishing and her mom was videotaping her, she started the ancient art of fish calling.  I hadn’t heard of this particular skill before, but she was a natural and started to call for the fish to “come out”.  At first the fish didn’t exactly respond to her newly acquired art form, but after a few minutes one did finally respond to her “call”, and I made an amazing one-handed hook set while fishing with my pole, and holding onto my wife’s pole.

And it made the entire effort completely worth it.

Sadly, though, soon after that, as the sun was beginning to set, and as Abby was starting to lose her patience, we packed up and headed to the truck.

We did manage to put 10 fish in the shanty, but it was about much, much more than that.  It was about family.  It was about Abby.  It was about all of us.  It was a simple, sunny Sunday in late January on a southern Michigan lake.  It was about being in nature, and sharing in simple pleasures.  It was a day I had dreamed of when Abby was nothing more than a beating heart on a CRT monitor.

It was a day she’ll never remember, and a day I’ll never forget.

Abby loves to read books involving animals, and she loves to name the animals as we read through the books.  She loves all the animals – giraffes, zebras, elephants, deer, and turkey – just to name a few, and she takes great pride in knowing them all.  In fact, one night she even corrected me and let me know that the animal we were looking at was indeed a jaguar – and not a cheetah – as I originally thought.

We headed down to Binder Park Zoo last Saturday, and Abby had a great time.  Binder Park is a smaller zoo, but Abby didn’t seem to mind; it was a great way to get her outside, spend some time together, and actually let her see a few of the animals we read about in books.

It’s always a little unsettling for me to see wild animals stuck in an enclosure – but I just really think that visiting the zoo is the only way most people are going to have any connection to these particular types of animals; it’s the only way they’re going to have such an encounter, and it provides an open opportunity to educate them as well.  Plus, zoos do help many animals to breed and be released back into the wild; for example, Binder Park just recently released a Mexican wolf into the wild, and that wolf was one of the first to have pups in the wild as well.

The highlight of the day, though, was visiting Wild Africa and getting to feed the giraffes.  Abby and I were eyeball-to-eyeball with the giant-necked creatures, and they were more than willing to eat the lettuce we had for them.  Abby loved getting to touch the giraffes, but she wasn’t a big fan when it came to feeding them – their tongues are gigantic – and Abby wasn’t real at ease when they were sticking that thing out at us.  If the truth be told, either was I – they’re huge!

It was an educational, fun-filled day, though, and we had a great time as a family.

And as I always say, getting kids in the outdoors can be done in many different ways – even with a trip to the zoo.

Author’s Note: In case you can’t tell, in the second picture, we’re in an “African camp”.

The wife, Abby and I weren’t sight-seeing, though.  We were heading to the local mall in Battle Creek, because I had managed to ruin a couple pair of work pants in the previous weeks, and going to work without clothes would probably be frowned upon.  And in order to get there, we had to pass over the Kalamazoo River – it’s unavoidable.  Honestly, after witnessing the whole mess, I would have rather stayed home.

It was depressing.

Then, on Saturday night, though the wedding was a great time and the weather was perfect, we had to pass “ground zero” of the spill in order to get there.  Workers were again abundant, as well as a few nice firemen – sitting in lawn chairs on the corner – to let you know that the area was off limits.

After that start to the weekend, and witnessing such a wildlife catastrophe somewhat first hand, I was ready for outdoor activity of any kind that didn’t involve oil – and that is where Sunday came in.

The morning sun rose and greeted Jeff and I as we slowly drifted through the morning fog.  We were in search of a keeper largemouth bass or northern pike.  The fog was incredible, though, and as we managed to put a few fish in the boat, and as I managed to put the oil spill dull drums behind me, the fog was surrounding us.  At times the fog was so thick that it appeared as though we were in some abyss; or that the ghost ship would appear at any moment.  It was eerie and awesome at the same time – a perfect start to a Sunday morning.  Fishing ended up, as always, being a great time – Jeff and I both managed to put some fish in the boat, including one keeper – but the highlight of the day would come later.

The afternoon was spent at Jeff’s house – we rode quads, took care of some food plot maintenance, trained one of Jeff’s labs how to track deer, and had a great time.  Then, and much to my sanity and my soul’s delight, we busted out the bows and did some target shooting.  Shooting a bow really does something for me.  It honestly makes me feel complete and helps to put me at ease.  It’s therapeutic.  If felt awesome, and it had been way too long since we last shot.

And, though I didn’t think life could get much better, it did when a moment that I’ve dreamed of for many years finally came to fruition:  the moment when I would help one of my kids to draw a bow, take aim, and send an arrow towards its mark.

Abby’s attention span didn’t really last too long – she only made it through two shots, and then headed onto bigger and better almost two year old things – but it is a moment which will stay with me forever.  It was a moment frozen in time; a moment which I will never forget.

And may it be a moment that continues into her adult life.

Saturday was all about turkey hunting preparation.  Jeff and Matt, along with a few of the kids, will be out trying to put a couple of turkey breasts in the freezer on Monday.  So since everyone was getting ready for their seasons to start, I took the opportunity to get the wife sighted in and ready as well.  Our season doesn’t start for another couple of weeks, but who I am to sit back and let everyone else shoot.

Jeff got his youngest stepson sighted in and ready for his first turkey season, my wife is sighted in and ready to put down her first bird, and we even managed to get another one of our cousins to shoot a gun for the first time.  After a little lesson on how to shoot the gun, she managed to put a few shots right in the kill zone, so Jeff may take her out sometime this week and let her try her luck, especially since Michigan has its wonderful new Apprentice Hunting License.

Then, yesterday, the wife and I bundled up little Abby and took her out to the 10 acres that her Papa and Grandma own.  This is the place that has the private pond, and is just a little piece of paradise that all of us are fortunate enough to be able to enjoy.  We blew all kinds of bubbles, rode around very slowly on quads, played in the sand pit, sat around the campfire, and I accomplished the one thing I set out to do – catch Abby’s first fish.

Considering it’s the early season, the fishing was a little slow, but I still managed to land one little bass – with Abby’s help of course.  You never know how the little ones are going to react to new things, but Abby didn’t have any problem reeling in the fish…….touching the fish…….or laying a Jimmy Houston kiss on the fish.  It was hysterical, and made for an awesome afternoon.

Spring has definitely sprung, and with it the outdoor activities are really starting to ramp up.  Turkey season begins on Monday, and camping will be here before we know it.

This weekend was perfect.  I got the wife sighted in and ready to kill her first bird; we managed to recruit a young girl for hunting; and I managed to make a memory that will last for a lifetime – catching Abby’s first fish.

Not bad.  Not bad at all.

Author’s note: And, though I loved getting outside during the winter months, it was still nice to be able to head out this weekend, let Abby play outside and have a good time, and not have to dress like we did in this picture.  Oh….winter in Michigan.  You definitely have to wear plenty of layers:):)