How many times have we said it. "It's a typical Monday". We use it whenever we're in denial about something, or need a convenient scape goat.
Well today was a Monday!
I blew off my morning hunt opportunity to have a nice home cooked breakfast with my wife and son before he left for school and my wife was off to dance classes. I was kinda bummed since this was the first opportunity to hunt my blind setup in the morning...with a favorable wind I might add. Oh well I thought, it was a great breakfast, and laughing and chatting with the family was worth it. Oh well, it's a Monday, right?
So, I says to myself, "Self...you can still go, although a little late. You see a lot of deer midday anyhow". So I'm getting my things together and the phone rings. Ringy, ringy!!! It's my dad, oh my, there goes my day. He's under the weather, and has an appointment with the trusty ear, nose, and throat Doc, and wants to know if I would like to go along with him. "Sure" says I! Priorities, and well, it's Monday, and I probably wouldn't see anything this late in the day anyways. I still have the evening. Whew...starting to feel like a Monday!
Well, squeezed in an appointment, which turned out to take three hours...but hey, they worked us in, he's a great Doc, and my pop left with piece of mind. Dang Monday!
Now I'm getting bummed. I looked forward to Monday all weekend, just to get a little time with my mistress, Ms. Hill Wesley, long slender sexy thang! My zeal and zest is now waning, ebbing like the tide, trickling away. Monday, RIGHT?
Wife is home, wonders why I'm home. "Oh boo hoo, it's a crummy Monday" I said. Her answer, "would you please get out of here and go hunting, your bumming me out". Ha, now Monday is after her too!
Well, I grabbed my things, and headed out to the family farm, late, far later than I like to walk in, but what the hay...It's Monday. Hmm, the wind ain't bad I noticed when I stepped out. May have promise. Strung her up, grabbed the quiver, and off I go.
Stealthy am I as I ease down the two track, and turn inside the ole broken gate to follow the overgrown cross fence that leads straight down to a young persimmon tree where I spied a scrape under a few days prior. I want to give it a quick check before cutting across a four acre pasture and ducking into the woodlot that holds my blind. A fresh rub along the fence and the scrape was visited. Good sign...for a Monday I suppose.
As I pull up short of the wood line, I crouch and listen. All is quiet, the wind is still holding in my face, and I can just see into the shadow streaked woods due to the early evening sun as it races towards the horizon. No sound except for a woodpecker, and a few squirrels screaming at one another across their imaginary backyard fences.
I push forward, find my opening, and begin a slow and arduous creep the final forty yards down hill to my blind. Slowly, slowly, watch, listen. Then wham! The small buck I hoped was making the scrape, was indeed on his way to that exact spot, only Monday got in both our ways. So, as I watch him bound off with that vulgar white flag flitting in my face all I can say is, "Well, it is a Monday".
Now I'm determined to see it through, as much as Tom Hanks with a FedEx package! I ease into my stand, sit down, get comfy, and promptly spook yet another...something. I choose to think it was a squirrel, and no one knows the better, not even Monday.
Okay, at least I'm in the woods, and it beats a cubicle on a Monday, Right?
The wind holds steady, and I begin to get caught up in the moment, despite it being Monday. Two boar squirrels have taken there argument to the forest floor, and one gets chased right up me! He jumps up on the tree three feet in front of my face, and stops frozen looking at me with his Peter Lorre eyes, just looking me over, wondering why I am intruding on his Monday. As I slowly attempted to slide my phone out for an awesome picture, he'd had quite enough of this odd creature and scurried up the tree in a most amusing cork screw fashion which was completely entertaining. Okay, not so bad for a Monday.
Ah, quiet again except for the bold alpha squirrel, going back to investigate his acorn stash before the intruder had so rudely interrupted him. His Monday seemed to be like mine, just an ongoing challenge that holds hidden obstacles that rear up, only to be hurdled, or collapsed upon.
Now I'm hearing another familiar sound. Slowly, quietly, ever so cautious and timid. There are whitetail near by, and there isn't enough fall foliage on the forest floor yet to prevent a myopic view of the surroundings. Ah, but my hearing does not deceive, and soon out of my left peripheral I see an ear, then a neck accompanied by a swishing tail, then it's gone again.
I'm concerned, one; because I'm uncovered from that angle, and two; because it's Monday, and well, it's Monday. No sooner do I lose sight of the one, when another grey ghost appears to my right. Just a head, two ears, and two really big brown marbles aiming like lasers in my direction. She can't see me, can't smell me, but the blind is familiar and she instinctively wants to eliminate it as a threat before moving into the feeding area that is being guarded oh so zealously by the alpha squirrel. If she moves fifteen more yards up the hill, she'll be downwind and the Monday will be complete.
I slowly make myself smaller, tilt my head forward to cover as much of my eyes as possible, fearing that my gaze will set off the flight instinct as if she were facing the glare of a wolf or bear. I'm proud of the gaze, but want it to soften to a bunny's innocence for just a moment. Come on Monday, give me a break!
Satisfied, she inexplicably did an about face and disappeared behind the tree directly to my front. Not going away, but not a threat at the moment. The one to my left, however, still offers a Monday coup d'etat if I attempt to move to see where Ms. Nosy Girl has gone.
Now I have a third in my direct shooting lane, nibbling in the open, in range, but not yet offering a shot. I can hear other deer, so I'm very hesitant to move(Monday) or shoot, as I'm afraid she may have fawns with her since she continues to look towards the hidden noise makers on the other side of the tree from me.
As I sit intently watching her feed, listening to the squirrels argue, the little ones tussle, and the approaching screech owl that is steadily running chills up my spine as he closes and brings his wales to a crescendo. Not so bad for a Monday, at least I'm seeing deer.
In the background I watch as Ms. Nosy Doe works her way around the entire scene, moving off to my left in a wide arc. I patiently watch her movement, not yet moving and nearly afraid to breath with so many deer inside the ten yard line, and me on the ground hidden by a thin veil of burlap and brush. Okay Monday, I know it's coming, why the suspense?
As one feeds, the other tippy toes, the owl screeches, the squirrels argue, and I begin cramping, I can't help but think....MONDAY!
Now, I'm no softy. I'm burly enough, I posses a man card, it has several prerequisites punched on it, but I wasn't prepared for what Monday threw at me next. As Ms. Nosy Doe Tippy Toe moved half circle to my left, she was instantly met by the mystery doe, the one I couldn't find. It was her fawn who ran to her jubilantly, swishing her tail, bounding like a six year old from the first day of school to their parent's car that's first in line for pickup. She immediately began to suckle the fawn, and all I could do was smile. Ah hah, Monday has slipped, it has allowed me a moment, tender as it was, it's a ray of sunshine on a Monday afternoon. Ha! Monday is losing it's cold hard grasp on my day. I find myself smiling, and enjoying this incredible moment that only the closest members of the inner sanctum are privy. Monday says you, My-day says me!
Well, moments over, they move on, out of view and content that the world is in order while I sit basking in the sunshine that now drizzles through the forest as the sun begins to set behind me. Doe three has disappeared as quickly as she appeared, but I know she's there in the ever growing shadows. I can hear her barely over the cacophony of residents complaining to one another as we all do in our own way on Mondays.
Darkness now descends, and my Monday is nearly over. I'm having trouble now making out the grey bushes that once were jumping and frolicking where the does fed and nursed. The lone doe is back now, nibbling at her leftovers like a glutton at the desert plate. This time she's feeding to my right, which should give me a chance to stand and hopefully, if she steadies up, right into a prime shooting lane as she passes behind the tree I sit concealed by. Come on Monday!
Moments turn to minutes, which turn into what seems like an hour as I mentally try to move her behind the tree so I can stand a ready my shot. I'm excited in spite of the day of the week. Monday "Ha"! I say again, I will show you. I stand, careful to stay hidden behind the big maple. No sound comes to my ears, no motion to my field of vision. I know she's there, waiting, almost anticipating my arrow. I lean to my left to slowly check her progress. She's not there! Was she a ghost, did my determination to beat Monday at it's game create this apparition before my eyes. I scan the area, slowly moving my head further from behind my hide. Wait, is that a......Whish, blow, snort! Yep, she was standing not ten yards from me and in a direct pathway extending from my blind straight away from me, peering down her back, and just waiting for me to deliver my own Monday styled Samurai sepukku. She bounds off, taking my late evening hopes of a filled tag with her. Monday?
I couldn't help but smile as I gathered my possibles together, covered my seat up, and slowly eased my way back out of the area, content that my day wasn't a waste, wasn't a failure, but it was after all, a Monday!