Grizzly Adams, Looking for Sturdy She-Woman

John has decided he no longer wants to live in our contemporary log home, set on a lovely five-acre plot surrounding by a country setting. I don't think it is so much the pine needles, tree bark and fresh air that he yearns to envelope him, but it's the wildlife. He has consistently sneaked into my contemporary decor, every species of animal that can be killed with a bow & arrow. We have multiple deer, pheasant, full flying turkey, and his two most recent vicitms, the bear (which replaced the turkey, which replaced my large grapevine wreath) and the coyote which arrived this morning (which replaced my candlescape and family pictures). These are just a few of the prouder displays. Regular curtains, wall hangings and art work just don't compare to the ruggedness of what you can kill, drag inside and slap up on your wall. And it's just not that impressive to brag about going over to Pier One Imports, hauling that big 40X60 oceanscape picture to the van and mounting it in its place. It gets a lot more ooohs and aaaahs to show your manly buddies what you chased down and "caught" with your own bare hands.

Instead of living in our comfortable abode, John has opted to move out to the forest. He doesn't realize this yet, but the decision has been made by default when he pushed the limits of bringing the outside in with this morning's addition to my fireplace mantle. I would put my foot down and relegate all these creatures somewhere else, but having a marble-eyed, dusty deer-head peering at my while I sleep gets a little creepy. Plus it doesn't go with my hydrangea flower theme. I would banish them to the unfinished basement, but dang, those things are expensive to get stuffed, and the whining and moaning I would endure as they got dirty would get a little annoying.

So John is in the market for a big-mama, hunter-woman who can cook a deer loin over a spit-grill and can pop open a can of pork-n-beans with her bare hands. I'd be happy to pack up his meals for him each day, but the hike to the place where all these animals hang out together takes too long to get to--the food would be cold by then. The candidate doesn't have to worry about laundry or anything else. I'll do all that...he can just pick it up when he stops in to visit the place he has decided is too civil for his taste.

We're really going to miss him, and we'll think of him each night while we snuggle in our cozy comforters, look at our pretty Pier One pictures and eat our warm steak (yeah, from the deer that he shot).