Critics of The Hunter s Wife

Yesterday, someone (she reads my blog) was making fun of me for not being a girly girl that takes her own fish off the hook. Coincidence that I asked if my readers take their own fish off the hook?

Maybe.

Probably not.

Dear chick that takes her own fish off the hook,

Before you get your fish off your hook ¦ I ll break your pole.

Love,

The hair puller.

It s a full moon tonight be safe all!

I love my readers.

Flying off on my broom for the night!

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

To Tinkle In The Woods I ll Go

If you ve been reading my blog for any amount of time you ve probably come across a comment or two I ve made about never tinkling in the woods.  I m not that kind of outdoors girl.  A squirrel might see me.  But after an incident at the marina last week, well, um, lets just say I d rather a squirrel saw me.

It was a very hot week of fishing.  85 degrees hot. Being on a boat in the middle of the lake with the sun beating down on you feels like 95 degrees.  Without making a move, you ve already worked up a good sweat.  Which means your clothes are wet and stuck to you.

My husband decided he needed more minnows so we headed to the marina.  We pulled up at the dock and I decided I better use the ladies room.  So I pranced across the dock and up the pier to the restaurant wishing everyone a good morning along the way.

On my way out, I wished more fellow anglers and marina workers a good morning and climbed back into the boat.  As we pulled away I noticed several workers going about their business on the dock, people having coffee on the upper level of the marina restaurant and I thought about the people that had a beautiful view to the water while dining in the restaurant.

We finally made our way to a brush pile with our fresh minnows and my boat duties kicked in.  I bent over and dropped the anchor in the water.  I bent over and set the minnows out for easy access.  I bent over and handed my husband a minnow.  And I bent over,  grabbed my pole and started fishing while standing.

A short time later, another boat anchored behind us to fish a separate brush pile.  We made small talk with the older couple and then I went about my fishing business.  Bending over to get a minnow, bending over to pick up my minnow I dropped and bending over to pick up my squirmy little minnow again.  After about an hour, our elder friends left.

You know when it s 85 degrees out, your clothes are stuck to you, you re swatting bugs in fear of getting bit and you start itching?  Well I was all over the boat swatting and itching when I felt something biting the back of my leg.  I turned my body to give the back of my leg a good itch when I noticed it.

You know when you re the girl that doesn t tinkle in the woods and is in fear of bathroom germs so you cover the toilet like you re wallpapering the thing in case your squat fails?

You know when it s 85 degrees and your ass is as sticky as wallpaper?

And your squat failed for that brief second just long enough for a 5 feet long piece of toilet paper to stick to your ass.

You know when you bend over 100 times in a boat and you re husband never notices that you have  5 feet of toilet paper hanging out your sticky wallpapering ass?

You know when you re on a boat and an older couple is fishing behind you and they never once said, Excuse me hon, but I think you have something hanging out your panties?

You know when you re sitting there having flash backs of where it happened, when it happened, and for the love of prancing across the marina like you re super TP girl, who in the world saw you?

Oh help me.

And then you do what every wife would do after sitting on a boat with their husband for 12 hours a day¦

Mark? Grr Mark.  Grr.  As many times as I bend over in this stupid boat, how did you not see 5 feet of toilet paper hanging down to my ankle?  I went on and on.  Blah blah blah.  Guys at the marina saw me.  Other anglers saw me.  Blah blah blah.  OMG blah blah blah.  I don t even know what I was rambling but it was a good wife ramble for a good 15 minutes.

And all he had to say was, Jody,  I was fishing.

I am never using the marina bathroom again.

Mariana worker:  Where you going?

TP super girl:  To use the ladies room.

Mariana worker:  It s that way.

TP super girl:  Oh no it s not.  It s behind tree number 3.

Have a good day all ¦ to tinkle in the woods I ll go.

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

Eating Crow with Springing Teal

When I announced I wanted to take up Shooting Sports as a hobby, it went over like a fart in church. I can still smell the distinct odor the affair raised”and it wasn t gunpowder. I heard the Doubting Thomases and the harshest critics say: JoAnna Zurinsky, if you ever manage to blast a clay bird out of that sky, it will be the day monkeys fly out of our butts!    Now call it what you will, Daddy says it s a case of good-old fashion German Stubbornness, I call it American Woman Resolve. I was going to hit a clay bird. I was going to do it regardless of whatever anyone said.  Daddy and I went out to the field in the back of our barn, and he threw the clays.  I took his 12ga Remington pump shotgun, and blasted the smithereens out of a bird, first try!  It felt so good. I did it again, and again that afternoon.  Sure I missed my fair share, but I didn t focus on what I was doing wrong, I only focused on what I was doing right. I was having fun, and I was hooked!

And Daddy? Well, he was shocked! My mom, who knew all along that I would do it, bagged up little pieces of clay birds for me to take home as a trophy to show my better, and sometimes un-believing half, Larry, as proof that monkeys sometimes do fly. And out of the strangest places!  When I got home, I put the baggie on the table, Larry rolled on the floor laughing.  What? I asked.  Larry blurted out, with Chardonnay gurgling through his nostrils (he was that amused):  Hand thrown birds are a great deal different than what you ll experience at a Gun Club with trap-machine thrown birds!   Undaunted, I soon got my chance to try Sporting Clays and Skeet.

I asked for a membership to the local gun club for my birthday that year, instead of jewelry”and got it, along with an offer for a full-on psychiatric evaluation.  I started going to the gun club every chance I got; with friends, relatives and any country man or woman who lend me their time and ears, so I could yell: PULL!  I befriended a couple of the members, and the nicknames along with the clays, started flying:  JoAnnie Oakley, 12ga Lady, Clay Slayer, The Crapshoot Kid and my personal, but somehow annoyingly favorite, Ram-Jo. These were not all compliments- most of them cute, but condescending in nature.

At the gun club that I discovered Shooting Sports is wonderful fun, it is very competitive, and a boys club.  One particular Sunday, my dad s friends from work were watching me at the Springing Teal stand, and bet a barbecue lunch on the odds that I would not hit single high or low clay out of the brush. I took on the bet. Now, I did not have the money to buy lunch for any of these fellas, but I couldn t let that stop me! Not a chance! I was going to stand my ground, if I was going to be wrong I was going to at least be bold about it. The taunting began.  Hey Ram-Jo, you gonna slay that Springing Teal today?  You got a reputation to keep at this club! As long as you re here, the clays are safe!   Daddy looked at me, and I looked at him, the stubbornness and resolve creeping out of me, a sly smile crossed my face. We looked at Earl and Joe and yelled: Game On!  With Daddy as my cheerleader, and pulling for me in the literal and figurative sense, I knew I could lick the Springing Teal stand. That day, there would be a thing such as a free lunch, but just desserts as well!

I got my clays, and Joe and Earl just stood at the bottom of the stand, jaws on the ground. I came over and they stammered out: we guess we owe y all lunch, and Crapshoot Kid, well, we re kinda sorry.   I took out my ear protection, and said: Guys, I have my ear protection in. It silences the loudest of critics!   Lunch was good. We were all sitting around, and Daddy asked: Is this the best barbecue you ve ever eaten or what?! I smiled and said, Dad, the chicken sort of tastes like Springing Teal, and I think that Joe and Earl s ribs must taste like Crow.

Till the next time: Shoot Straight and Aim High!

J.Z. Zurinsky- My Bullet Points

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

Gettin Jiggy With It

The first year I started fishing with my husband I was more concerned with how beautiful it was being out on the water at dawn ¦

And I loved this cold morning seeing other anglers out on the water ¦

And I spent a lot of time just watching my husband enjoy fishing ¦

And with two pairs of glasses on my head and a face that shows how early in the morning it was ¦ I d ask, Is this a crappie?

And then it happened last year.  I think I just got scolded for talking so much so I was minding my own fishing business when I felt something pull my line.  And I politely whispered, Um Mark, I think you should get the net.  And he didn t until I heard him say, That s a damn crappie.  And he about jumped in the water trying to make sure my inexperienced crappie fishing self didn t lose my fish¦

My first crappie.  My first fish I actually touched.  Please excuse the crusty hair and the I m soaking wet and I m not holding a fish look on my face. But I have a husband that thinks, Oh you won t get wet.  Just enjoy the boat ride.  As we head right through a huge whitecap.

And excuse the 10 chins. Thank you.

So this year is different for me.  I m gettin jiggy with it.  Over the past few weeks I ve been ¦

• Checking the weather.
• Checking fishing reports.
• Watching crappie You Tube fishing videos.
• Reading up on how to catch crappie.
• Purchasing my own jiggy do s from what I ve read.
• Practicing posing for better pictures.

Have a good day all ¦ I have 10 chins to hide before our fishing trip next week.

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

For The Love of Fishing

I only started fishing a few years ago and I fell in love with ¦

The beautiful sunrises¦

The peaceful scenery¦

Spending time with my husband ¦

Spending time with friends with big fishing poles ¦

The fish we catch ¦

The evening cookouts ¦

The guys that clean my fish ¦

And taking pictures of crusted fish guts on my leg ¦

Have a good day all ¦ I think I might need to go tanning before our April fishing trip.  Or maybe I ll just wear pants.

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net

Battle of the Bow Premiere

Tonight on the Sportsman Channel is the new 13 week series, Battle of the Bow where 10 -  2 person teams from Wisconsin document their recent hunting season.  What I find interesting, as mentioned on…

See the original article at TheHuntersWife.net