Mrs. Hillbilly Mom Waxes Poetic, Hopes You Agree With Her Esthetic

I think that I shall always cheer
A sight as lovely as these deer.

A sight that conjures heartfelt sighs
And brings near tears to these old eyes.

A sight that only few folks see
And makes me glad that one is ME.

A sight that hunters wish they had
Sweet Gummi Mary, that's so sad!

We built on their land, let them be
I'm glad keen senses make them flee.

I ain't no poet, that I knows
Don't care a bit, that buck and does!

The pictures from The Pony's phone don't do them justice. Shortly after 9:00 a.m., having just arisen and plopped down in the La-Z-Boy to enjoy the first day of the rest of my retirement, I was treated to the sight of three deer strolling across my front yard/field. It was a buck and two does. They were majestic, all sleek and pointy-eared, looking toward the house.

I hollered for The Pony to get up and look at them. That lazy boy! Still abed at that hour! He ran out of the bedroom and said he would get their picture.

"NO! They'll hear you open the door! Just LOOK at them! They're beautiful!"

"Aw! I see them. I'll get a picture."

"Go around back, through the kitchen door, and sneak around the corner. You may get a picture before they notice you."

Off he went. Quietly. But deer are skittish critters. When they saw movement, they high-tailed it on up the gravel road. I'm sure people who have infestations of unwanted deer in some suburbs don't share my awe. Out here, they are wild, and we are only borrowing their land. Of course, a hunting season is needed so they don't overpopulate and slowly starve.

I don't think I could shoot one. Eat it, yeah. But shoot one, no.