It was a fiendishly simple plan and it played in my head something like this; Take very Monday off from the first of October until the week after Thanksgiving. History has shown us that we never get to hunt in December until after Christmas anyway so no need to worry about the Twelfth month. You are too busy during the silly season anyway. Just use up the Mondays as hunting days that way no Monday in the office, hunting fix attained, life goes on, no worries. Right? Well, wrong actually.
The reality of the whole mess goes like this. Fall arrived in about 20 minutes last Tuesday and the high temperatures dropped from a balmy, high eighties sort of thing, down to a it's sort of chilly sixties sort of thing. The nights are following suit as well. Don't misunderstand here, I am a huge fan of the fall weather. What has failed to factor in is that the three-year-old will almost always catch a cold when things change like this. What does that mean? For those of you not blessed with the germ-infested bundles of joy, the rule is like this: If they get sick, you get sick. How special.
So here we are... Monday morning... The sun is just making its way to the horizon and the predawn is gorgeous. I can hear the birds starting to chirp and my rifle on the rack calling to me. It knows I am home and we should be hunting. What nobody else can feel is the red-hot line of pain running down my throat from my nose to my ears and further down. Gawd do I hate sinus infections. They are just the worst. Worse than the flu. Worse than Poison Ivy. Worse than just about everything. It's like someone pressurizing your head with really nasty Jello and then smacking it with a hammer. If I were not sniffing and coughing to go with it, I would be hunting anyway. There is enough OTC sinus stuff in my house to make this possible. The coughing that is in attendance here, makes the whole silent motionless thing just impossible.
So instead of watching the tree for signs of movement, for hopping nut carriers or busy tails flitting around, I am headed for the urgent care. Me and twenty or so others, all in a room, coughing and waiting for our turn to say 'Ah' and buy a prescription, take a pill, and stop secreating. Ah well.... there's always next Monday. I guess even an ill day at home with the kiddlet, sick or no, is better than a meeting about how to amortize or physical asset depreciation. Rock on.