Friggin' Summer

Ah, summer is here. Don't you just love summer? If you answered "yes", then you don't live in Arkansas, AND you've been listening to too many Country Time Lemonade and Bluebell Ice Cream commercials. It's FRIGGIN' HOT. It's FRIGGIN' HUMID. And yes, I've been told that Texas has big mosquitoes, and Minnesota has lots, but put those together for Eastern Arkansas...imagine mosquitoes the size of pomeranians coming at you over the horizon, fresh from a flooded rice field, in a menacing black cloud the size of a nuclear blast. And ticks...if you even THINK of entering a wooded area, every nightly shower becomes a rousing game of "tick hunt", ending in a restless night of "tick-bite scratch", not to be confused with the ever popular and never escapable "chigger-bite boogie." Ticks and chiggers I grew up with, but the mosquito hordes are a new adventure, and after several years I still haven't gotten used to the plague. Summer isn't all bad...we do get to wear shorts. Well, I choose not to because of all the ugly bug bites. My legs haven't seen much in the way of the sun in the past few years.

So yeah...I don't enjoy summers like I used to...as probably most people who work in the warm-weather driven tourist industry.

If you're like me, you're mind is back in the cool weather of fall and possibly winter. To help bring back these memories of cooler days, here's some pics from our ski trip this past winter in the cold crisp air of the Colorado Rockies:

Ok, so this isn't Colorado...this is a sign somewhere in Kansas. We saw these signs for miles and miles, and finally got within ONE MILE of the Largest Prairie Dog In the World! Imagine our excitement! We stopped, however, and were totally bummed to find the place apparently out of business. I mean, who goes out of business when you own the world's largest prairie dog???

This was Marden’s first ski trip….both figuratively and literally. He did a LOT of tripping, as well as sliding, tumbling, crashing, and just flat wiping out. For his first time he did pretty good, but learning to ski just isn’t a pretty process, no matter how coordinated you are. I found that skiing came back to me just like riding a bike, and we finally broke up into pairs according to ability...Mom and Dad on the bunny slopes, Marden and Tye on the greens, while Trent and I (as the more adventurous family members) hit the blues and blacks of both Winter Park and Mary Jane.

After a few fun days of skiing, Trent and I decided to trade our skis in for snowboards. I’ll say this – snowboarding is a blast, but learning is even an uglier process than learning to ski. See pic. It was after this not-so-soft wipeout (which my loving hubby snapped while laughing very unsympathetically) that I decided a helmet might be prudent.

First of all, snowboarding leaves you with a feeling of being completely out of control. With skis, you have two independently working legs and can (with practice) retain some semblance of control. With a snowboard, your feet are strapped to the same board, and there is no “falling”…it’s more of a “brutal slamming of your face into the hard-packed snow which feels like concrete.” Then you finally get the “feel” of the board and can begin to weave back and forth gracefully, just like on TV. But this is just the snowboard deviously lulling you into a false sense of security, so you start building up speed and confidence when all of a sudden, “WHAM!!!”, you’re eating snow yet again, but this time after a spectacular head-over-feet-arms-flailing-snow-spraying exploit which everyone within a half mile radius has just witnessed. And you can see on their faces (once you pry your face out of the hard pack) that they don’t know whether to laugh, come offer assistance, or get the ski patrol…so mostly they ignore you or choose the not-so-disguised laugh option. The worst place to do this is the last stretch of the run, which meets with other runs and widens out into a huge open area in full view of the lodge/restaurant – in full view of the literally hundreds of people lounging around, taking a break.

Another hazard is deep snow. We were lucky enough to be on our trip during the big “Blizzard of 2006” which hit Denver, and dumped 24” of much-needed snow on the ski resorts. Of course for skiing snow is great, as long as you stay on the groomed runs. Get off the runs, and you find yourself flailing about like a beached whale (sometimes in an inverted position), losing poles and skis in the whole process, and making sounds which are reminiscent of the mating call of an overweight bear. I’m not sure what’s worse – hitting deep snow with skis or a snowboard. Both are equally bad situations which one should avoid at all costs.

Despite the embarrassments, it was one of the best times of my life. I’ve come to understand something about myself. I’m an Adrenaline Junkie. I can’t wait to go again, and Mr. Hooter – despite his many bumps, bruises, and sore bones – feels equally excited about more skiing in our future, as does the rest of the fam.

So here's some pics from the trip. Enjoy the imaginary blast of cold air.

Dad and Mom...on the bunnies.

Dang I wish I was in Colorado...!

We have aquired a new cat. We didn't WANT a new cat, but it seems to have chosen us, so who are we to argue. Someone apparently unceremoniously dumped it...and that's another pet peeve of mine to discuss on a different day.

I'm saying "it" because Mr. Hooter and I are not in agreement as to the cat's sex. I know I should know these things, as I've had cats my whole life, but cats are difficult...this cat is either female, neutered male, or immature male. I say male, Mr. Hooter says female. We shall see who is right. Just the other day, Mr. Hooter uttered the words that few wives hear spoken by a man even once in their lifetime: "I was wrong, you were right." I am eager to hear those words again, but I'm afraid I won't until I get this new cat to the vet for a check-up and possibly shots, assuming he/she hasn't already had them. As of now, the cat has been dubbed "Matilda." Don't look at me - I didn't come up with it.

Here's Sally and Matilda's first meeting...the exact moment of impact. Sally got too friendly to fast, which is a personality flaw of most dogs, I'm afraid. Sally paid the price and was about knocked into the next county.

More people...

Just encountered a guy going fishing...looked pretty scroungy, but that's what you look like when you fish. However, his hair was messed up, most of his teeth had apparently gone on permanent vacation, and let's just say he was a bit...overweight...

The back of his shirt proudly proclaimed, "SEXUAL BEAST"

*shudder*

People...

People never cease to amaze me. I can tell we're getting deeper into summer (well...the heat. It's not officially summer yet...*sigh*)...my patience is wearing thin. Working at a state park means constantly dealing with the public, and all the joys the public brings. A majority of people are nice, if sometimes ill-informed.

This afternoon I got what was probably a nice lady using bad judgement. Either that or she was on something.

She called and asked, "Do you have the number for the Lake City license place?"

Me: "Excuse me???"
Lady: "You know...the place you get your license."
Me: "Um...er....well, we sell fishing licenses...is that what you mean?"
Lady: "No...you know, where you get your driver's license."
Me: "Ma'am, are you aware that we're a state park?"
Lady: "Yes...I just thought you might have it."
???
Me: "Um...no...I'm not even sure where Lake City is...I'm afraid I can't help you."
Lady: "Oh...ok then..."

I mean...?!? Of course when I need a phone number, I don't look in the phone book or call information. I just pick a random state park and see if they know.

I worry for America.

Pet Pics!

Yes, it's time once again for Pet Pics, where I shamelessly post pictures of our pets the way some proud parents post endless photos of kids. Not that there's anything wrong with that...my kids are just the 4-legged kind. I figure it's been a good 6 months since any pet pics were up here, plus I don't have anything interesting to say, so why not...

Here is Miss Lucy, profoundly described by Mr. Hooter as "a very smart dog with very poor judgement", still confined mostly to the house after her injury a year ago, which is healing - just not very quickly. I think we'll discuss this with the vet on our next visit, not only because I'm concerned, but also because our house frequently exhibits the odour of Bigstinkydog, creating a flurry of activities including bathing Bigstankydog, washing Bigstankydog's bedding, and mopping the floor. Unfortunately for Mom, I don't think Bigstankydog would make a successful candle scent.

And here is Sally. Sally for some reason gets away with murder...could be the cute face or the sad eyes, but it's pretty shameless. Princess Sally is the master of sneaking her way on the couch...one second she's absorbed in her own doggie duties, and the second you turn your head, she's on the couch curled up fast asleep (or seemingly fast asleep). Notice here she's made herself at home on my head. I probably didn't care because I was doped up on pain meds...this was the day I cut the crap out of my finger and had stitches.

Sam is still around after 12+ years! Still leaving gigantic hairballs, both shed in clumps and barfed up to step on during the night with bare feet. He's also King of the Litterbox...he can take brand spanking new litter and in 3 seconds have you bagging it up and running for the outdoor trash barrel all with your breath held and face turning alarmingly purple. He also finds it necessary to take food from his food dish and put it in the big communal water dish, where he does nothing but stare at it. I've tried numerous experiments involving moving the bowls far apart, but nothing seems to deter this obsession.

And Amos, with her good buddy Lucy (who has the creepy-eye due to camera flash)...Amos is an outdoor cat who has the run of the park (he occasionally worms his way indoors to visit Lucy). You can't seen in the pic that he has no tail, just a little stub. This causes numerous park visitors, most from cities, to think that they've seen a genuine bobcat.

It's really hard to keep a straight and sincere face (though I do manage - don't want to hurt feelings) when I have to tell a crestfallen tourist that they've seen merely a run-of-the-mill housecat....and that not only are bobcats much bigger, they are not bright orange. At least not to my knowledge.

That's it for the clan...well, except for some fish and my corn snake named Orville. I'll try to get some pics of him up, but he's camera shy.

Memorial Day Weekend Blues

I hope everyone's enjoying the long Memorial Day weekend! Please enjoy it for my sake, and for the sake of everyone who has to work harder and longer so other folks can have a fun and safe break. One of the hazards of working in parks - everyone else's vacation time is my work-harder/longer-than-ever weekend. Also there is the joyous task of being at the mercy of some overly grouchy members of the public. I've already explained why you can't pick the wildflowers (especially since the cold snap last month did most of them in), why you can't just park your truck anywhere you want, and why there is a two-tent maximum per campsite. Each of these lovely folks conveyed to me in such sweet terms that they thought those rules were just "stupid." Luckily, all decided to comply with the "stupid" rules, but taking flak is getting old.

I talked Mr. Hooter into taking advantage of his long weekend by visiting his family - no use in him sharing my misery!


Instead of wallowing further into the pit of self-pity, I'll share this photo I snapped the other day of my pot of snapdragons. This particular plant just exploded with these really pretty pink and yellow blooms!

Thought for the Day

Maxine must have worked in a state park sometime in her life...

The Funniest/Weirdest Commercial Ever

Have you seen that Berries and Creme Starburst commercial? I've only seen it once, and I don't know anyone else who has! Well, except for the people who's seen it on my TiVo. Yes. I taped it...then we watched it at least 22 times. Apparently, while it makes no sense, it accomplishes the purpose...I've been craving Berries and Creme Starburst ever since.

www.berriesandcreme.com

Mullethunt 2007

Mullethunt 2007 has been heavily underway for awhile now for me and my fellow mullet hunters, and we're off to what looks like a VERY productive season, even more so than Mullethunt 2006. I thought it would be nice to share some of our most noteworthy catches:

This is a distance shot of a SuperFemmullet from the end of the '06 season. We had to be wary with this one, as she appeared highly irratible and a bit agitated. We decided to keep our distance and use the zoom.

We also utilized the team approach, using Marden as a decoy while I steadied the camera on nearby clothes rack.

Unfortunately the sight of the Superfemmullet and the resulting adrenaline rush had an adverse effect Mr. Hooter's brain. I found him in the Christmas section posing as a Potbellied Conehead.
After proper treatment, most notably food, he was deemed fit for more mullet hunting.

This was a very interesting specimen, and our most recent, caught by Travis at a nearby public event, which I like to refer to as "local doings" (pronounced "local do-in's"). Local doin's attract a wide variety of sometimes scantily clothed natives, and mullet sightings are rampant. This possibly one-of-a-kind mullet Travis dubbed "The Possum."


Here's another good mullet of note...yes, this is a RECENT photo, not one from 1986. I believe this is also a Travis catch, and if i remember right, while you can't tell from the photo, in real life it was actually TWO-TONED. What you can see is that this mullet-wearer takes his 'do seriously, going through the meticulous trouble of perming the "business" end.

ALETA put us a little behind on mullethunting, however, we're catching up quick and look to have a banner year. If you'd like to join our mullethunt, or need any tips, let me know! (Please remember to treat all mullets humanely, as many species are endangered.)

Happy Mother's Day...and general musings

A big Happy Mother's Day (late) this past Sunday to all the mothers out there, especially my own, and to several celebrating their first - Maria with Jett, Amber with little Gino, and Cheryl with one week old Benjamin. Seems everyone is just popping them out left and right. Don't look at me just yet. :)

So again I've been MIA - this time I had some in-service law enforcement training to replace some of the sub-par teachings of ALETA with some sound common-sense practices of State Parks. While the two weeks were exhausting, I did learn more in the last two weeks than in the whole three months of ALETA. Also, we got to see a bird poop on Kendra's head...I'd give my left big toe to have a picture of that.

Lots of things have happened since my last post! First of all, Cheryl finally had that kid. Marden and I visited Cheryl, BJ, and little Ben weekend before last when he was brand spankin' new at the hospital. They've got lots of good pics up on their blog, so go check him out - he's a cutie pie...and check out those feet!!!

There as been a new, but temporary, addition to the Hooter household. It's pretty common in the spring for me to take care of some orphaned critter, and for the second year in a row I'm caring for a baby coon. This is Rudy peeping over my shoulder...I've had him for a couple of weeks now, and he's just about doubled in size.

Some of you might remember Rascal from last year. Despite his scrawny, kind of pathetic beginnings, especially with a broken leg, Rascal grew up to be a big burly coon, and finally went off on his own. Not before he made

a nuisance of himself on a regular basis, especially while we were getting our engagement photos taken...he had quite an affinity for Marden's ears. I'll never forget Mom and Dad taking those photos - Mom holding a shade umbrella over our heads while trying desperately to keep a coon out of the picture with one foot! I'm pretty sure Rascal is the guilty party who's been raiding the trash cans in the park, though I couldn't prove it unless I got close enough...and I have no desire to walk up on a coon that *might* remember me, or just might try to tear my face off. In any case, I miss Rascal and hope he's doing well, but Rudy is becomming a character all his own.

And Sally is finally "fixed." She was NOT preggers with the muttpups after all, and now I can put her outside without holding my breath.

I got this picture from Tye, who's currently stationed in Guam as a navigator on a B-52. Apparently he got bored, because in addition to snorkeling and kite-surfing, he joined a scuba-diving club.

It's nice to see our soldiers and airmen hard at work defending our country, haha. So far he's sent some pretty awesome photos of fish...a much bigger variety than what I saw in Australia. I'm looking forward to him coming home at the end of this month...I'm eager to hear about Guam and all the stuff he got to do. Man...I should've joined the Air Force...

Pet Peeve

What is it about those Blue Tooth earpieces that make people think they look cool wearing them all the time?

Back In Town

I'm back now after a short (way too short) vacation out of town with Mr. Hooter and our friend Travis to Heber Springs for some fly fishing. It was a very good time, though I could have used another couple of weeks. Pictures are soon to follow. Travis experienced his very first trout on a fly rod, and after months of an extremely distrubing lack of fishing in our lives, Marden and I finally got to wet our fly lines again. However, time was so short it just felt like a tease.

Warning...this post is about to take a whiney turn - but I have to vent. I can't seem to get re-charged after getting back from ALETA! I'm always tired, run-down, and quite possibly the Pissiest Person Presently on the Planet. I have no time to even keep the house clean, let alone dabble in the hobbies that make my little world go 'round, leaving me to ponder if a certain job is really worth feeling like it owns my soul more and more. Life just wasn't meant to be this way. I haven't seen my fam in MO for who knows how long, and this part of Arkansas is feeling more alien every day. Sleep is my only real escape, but even my dreams are making me feel exausted. A couple of nights ago Sasquatch was giving me legal advice in a British accent.

Yep...I need a REAL vacation, but since we're just now hitting the busy season that's probably not going to happen for a while. *sigh*

On top of that, Sally is definately prego with the mutt-pups...hopefully the vet will still be able to take care of that issue. I think this rainy day is getting to me...

All Better

I got the stitches out of my hand this past Saturday, and as you can see - it healed very nicely and much quicker than I had hoped. I've got a farily impressive scar to show for it, but that's ok. Everyone knows that real chicks have scars, though I must admit most don't get them changing light bulbs.

On a different note - one related to my previous post - I saw a copy of the local section of a local paper today. Headline reads "4-Year Old Hunter Bags First Turkey"

I give up.

A turkey is just a bird? I think not.

Turkey is just a bird my foot...I'm pretty sure wild turkeys are some minion of an alternate dimension, only seen by human eyes when you're in your car or on un-huntable property.
Sunday evening, while visiting at the in-laws (the hubby was on a field training excercise - some army thing that did NOT sound fun), I decided to try my luck on an evening turkey hunt - my first solo hunt. Now, I'm just a fledgling turkey hunter. And to make things even more frustrating, I was spoiled by bagging a nice buck on my very first deer hunt last year. However, this would add up to be my 3rd year of turkey hunting with no turkey. This time I was determined.
Dressed in camo head to toe and armed with my trusty shotgun, a myriad of calls, and even some decoys, I headed for the woods. Sneaking through the trees like a soldier stalking Charlie on the Ho Chi Min trail, I first used an owl locator call, just like the pros. Nothing. No problem...I knew where these guys roosted. So I found a nice spot close to the area with lots of feathers and scratch marks where there HAD been turkeys, and proceeded to let out some calls. Nothing. Nothing for a looong time. Of course, I'm not altogether convinced that my calls even sound like a turkey...rather, they sounded more like a duck with a speech impediment. It's getting dark...my butt is numb...I'm pretty sure there's a tick stuck to my ear... At least I thought I knew where they roosted...apparently they'd decided to check into the nearest Holiday Inn Express. No turkeys. I headed home.
Well...it's just an evening hunt...I'll get 'em early in the morning when they first get up! I got up before the butt-crack of dawn, and by the time the sun started to rise I was camped out under a big oak, decoys set, waiting for that gigantic gobbler to poke his head into my sights. (Never mind that in my eagerness to get into the woods I'd sounded like a drunk elephant crashing around...a big no-no) And I waited. Let out some calls. Waited some more. My butt again went numb. Pretty sure there is another tick in a not-so-scratchable place. Just when I thought about getting up and trying another tactic, I heard a soft, "yelp yelp yelp" of a hen. They DO exist!!! "Hmmm...well, similar to humans - where there's a girl, there's got to be an amorous boy not far behind", I reasoned. An hour later I decided maybe not. I'd started to hallucinate that the turkey flock was watching me, asking each other, "how long do you think she's going to sit there?" I finally relented.
At this point I've really decided that turkey hunting is no more than a waste of valuable sleeping time. I think I'm going to stick to trout and deer...critters that I DO know exist, and are catchable. (And make a tasty supper)

So things have been interesting since I've returned from the Ivory Tower of Knowledge...what with the hazards of the new gun belt, a new employee who's evidently extremely sensitive and can't take constructive criticism, and the stitches in my finger and palm.

Today just kind of took the cake.

So I'm doing a monthly report, and Maintenance calls me to ask if I put another dog in the pen with Sally, and when I said no, they said..."um...well, you'd better get down here. They're kind of...um...stuck together." Ewww nooooooooo. Yes, there IS another dog in the pen, and NO, it's not mine. Actually, it looked like a fat half Rottweiler, half weenie dog, and he’d pried the door open. I shut the little hussy in the house and shooed him away, but I'm afraid it may take a bb-gun for him to get the message that Ashlie’s Red-Light Doggie District is now closed. Then I called the vet in a pure panic see what to do, because I SURE don’t want Beagleweenieweiler pups – they said since she’s getting fixed on the 25th, it’s no problem. Big sigh of relief.

Then, the Rudest People In The World called the park. I think what they wanted was directions to Crowley's Ridge, but the Ranger had answered the phone. They hung up on him because of his "smart mouth", which I don't understand because I was standing right there and heard the whole conversation - he was being very friendly. Then they called back and berated me about "how he was rude to my friend" and "how we need to screen our employees better and teach some customer service!" Then after getting no satisfaction from me (evidently), they called back and showed their sophistication by yelling, "F*&# you and your job, BITCH!" and hanging up. Classy.

It does all have a bright side. Sally will not be a mama of any strange looking puppies, and I was told by my friend Cheryl that I am now a real officer, having been dubbed the title of "bitch."

Grace Strikes Again

Well, it's about that time for something stupid to happen to me requiring a visit to the E.R., and Friday that stupid thing happened. While changing a lightbulb with a long pole (which was broken) I lost my grip on the pole and redecorated my hand. This is 12 stitches later...ew ew icky poo!

I'm just fine...now the stitches are getting annoying and I can get them out in less than a week. After that, should be good as new. And I'm already tired of hearing, "How many Ashlie's does it take to change a light bulb?"

Picture pages, picture pages...

Yay pictures! Finally, yes I know. So here we are at the driving track. What you can't tell is that this car is going at a very high rate of speed - I believe this was during pursuit drills. During pursuits, we students drove our cars (one at a time of course) after a "suspect", which was an instructor. After riding with this particular instructor, I decided his mental stability may be in question. All the while another (also very crazy) instructor stayed on our tail, trying to distract us by slamming us in the rear end, running us off the road, and general fun stuff along those lines. If we were able to blow this picture up, I believe you'd see three students who just crapped themselves.

More driving (notice all the dust...that is actually pure panic in solid form):

And next we have a photo of us being all tactical during Tactical Shooting Week. Obviously I wasn't being tactical - I had already gone...I was sitting on a bucket taking a picture.

Felony traffic stops...(just a walk-through...the "real" ones were kinda crazy)

FREEDOM!!!

Howdy folks! I hear you've been wondering...Well, I'm out of school and am now a full-fledged Ossifer of the Law. I now have to sit in my office all geared up, complete with a bullet-proof vest which makes me feel like a fat stuffed turkey. Law Enforcement also comes with some unexpected hazards...for instance, I keep forgetting that with this gun belt I'm wider...I forget to open the door wider, and as a consequence I keep getting stuck in the door. Going to have to work on that. And today my seatbelt got stuck in my gun belt, which resulted in a not-so-graceful exit from my truck this morning. And finally, when taking a bank deposit in while in uniform and geared up, it's a good idea to refrain from getting a free donut that the bank offers, lest you want to hear snickering from other bank customers. All this I've learned in a single day on the job. Not to mention last night when on my first patrol as an officer, my first stop to check the welfare of some campers after a hellacious storm we had - I brilliantly locked the keys in the ranger truck running and with the headlights on. Makes me wonder what's in store for tomorrow?

Anyway - so sorry I've been MIA lately...things just got ultra-busy, and my weekend time was at a premium. The last three weeks of ALETA were interesting to say the least, and are worth recapping. What with the screeching tires, shooting each other, the meltdowns, and getting caught by insturctors while pretending to be "beamed up" through the skylight. Soooo...here we go:

WEEK 10:
This week we began practical excercises, which would last the rest of ALETA time. We were divided into groups - squads A&B, squads C&D (yay! C was known as the "screw-up rogue squad", which Kendra, Travis, and myself happened to belong to), and the whiney E&F squads. Each group did something different, then rotated the next week.

We (C&D) started out at the range for "Tactical Shooting" with handguns and shotguns, plus training on the FATS machine - which is like a huge real-life video game. Our luck would have it that most of the week was rainy, but that didn't stop us from being all tactical. Lots of running and shooting. Lots of yelling. Lots of getting soaked. But, rest assured that we can now make our paper man targets sorry for being printed while on the move...and as i said, we were very tactical. The most fun part of the week was called "Hogan's Alley", which is a course set up for one person to go through at a time, which I failed miserably. The point of Hogan's Alley in a nutshell is "DON'T SHOOT THE GOOD GUYS!"
I shot the good guys...at least a couple of them. What happens is you're given the scenario of being called to a situation where shots have been fired including several cops and several bad guys. All the while you're sneaking around this course, hiding behind walls, tires, and other obstacles, and you come into contact with targets and have to decide whether to shoot them or not. In my run, a cop and a paperboy bit it. :) I'm sorry, but in a "shootout" situation, if you're a cop in plain clothes, don't hold a big gun aimed at me and hold your little 2" badge down at your leg...Also, if you're a paperboy, don't look like a long haired 40-year-old creep holding a rolled-up newspaper like a shotgun, or you, too, will eat some lead. Needless to say, I got a big ZERO on that excercise....which is ok, cause Travis did too, as well as most of the class.
The other fun thing we did was night firing - firing 25 rounds at targets by only flashlight, and the other 25 rounds by only blue flashing lights. I was a complete retard with my flashlight, which chose that particular moment to go dead. I had to borrow someone else's, which was completely different...Travis said it looked like my flashlight was trying to attack me for most of the excercise. The blue light excercise was a tad better, though since I was on the end of the line and farthest away from the lights I could barely see...pretty much I just aimed in the general area and let rounds fly. Still, all in all I did pretty good...my final target only had 3 rounds out of 50 outside the target area.

WEEK 11:
This week was Driving Course Week...also known now as The Week I Broke Kendra's Hand. More about that in a minute. For driving, we were given several old state trooper cars with lights and sirens for these excercises, and it was a complete blast. Never would I have dreamed that driving 30 m.p.h. through cones could be so fun and hair-raisingly scary at the same time. Best part was doing the controlled skids on wet concrete...at the end of the excercise we each got to do an uncontrolled 360 as fast as we could go...you can imagine how that went! I think my brief but successful stint as a 2-time dirt track Powderpuff Champion must have helped, especially on the pursuit course, which was definately NOT done at 30 m.p.h.
So one evening we received baton training, which was actually supposed to be several weeks ago, but they missed it somehow. Kendra's my partner, and we're facing each other swinging away with our batons, just like we're supposed to be doing (though instead of "GET ON THE GROUND!" like we're told to, we're yelling stuff like "QUIT LITTERING!" and "PUT THE DOG ON A LEASH!") and somehow we get too close, and WHACK! Kendra's hand was about twice the size it's supposed to be. Oops. As you can imagine, I felt about 2" big for the next week.

WEEK 12:
We all breathed a HUGE sigh of relief...this was actually the last week!!! This week we had Building Searches and Felony Stops...which Kendra had to do in a cast. Heh. The interesting thing about these excercises is that they include "simunition", which means we use guns a lot like the ones we carry, only they shoot rounds which are kind of like paintballs - just smaller and more painful. We were able to wear helmets and body armor, but that doesn't protect arms and legs. Pretty much this week of training made me scared to death to be a cop - a lovely way to end 12 weeks of training. Luckily I only ended up with one bad simunition hit in the leg...the rest on the arms were pretty mild. All in all, it was pretty fun...we had some good thinking scenarios, as well as some pretty wild scenarios where it was a shoot-'em-up-free-for-all.

And finally - graduation! It was as cheesy as I'd ever dreamed graduation from ALETA would be. A couple of bright spots were that State Parks graduated well - Travis sang the National Anthem, and Matt and I tied for first place in PT scores. Travis WOULD have taken top academic honors, but missed a single question on his last test which knocked him out of the standings. When the scores are so close that I can have a 95+ average and still be down halfway in the class rank, anything can happen.

So now here we are...all graduated and back to our "normal" lives. I suppose my posts will be more regular now, and hopefully will regain some of the daily happenings humor of pre-ALETA. I hope that ALETA hasn't ruined my sense of humor. I don't think it has...Travis told me that if God has a sense of humor at all, when we die we'll be assigned to gate duty and can make fun of everyone coming through. But who are we kidding - you know we'll be assigned to some kind of spiritual doggy doodie pick-up crew for our immature behavior as of late.

All in all, it's been an interesting experience. I'm so glad to have my "real" life back after 3 months of hiatus. The only thing that made it halfway bearable was being there with friends. I have to say that the wry humor of Travis made life easier, and for Kendra and I to survive living together through three months of duress says a lot for a friendship. Thanks guys.

p.s. - Barring any more technical difficulties, pictures are soon to follow!

3 More Weeks...*sigh*

9 whole weeks down...can I make the final push? We're seeing the light at the end of the ALETA tunnel, but it's still kind of dim. Things have been slightly improving. Oh, ALETA is still a cesspool of ignorance and unprofessionalism stuck in about 1972, but the blatant sexual harassment has let up a tad. The constant gay-bashing still goes on, and people (students and instructors alike) still act like grade-school idiots...maybe I'm just finally getting used to it. This past week we were in class a total of 8 hours a day, with about 2 total hours of actual good information. The rest was just ridiculous filler in the form of students and instructors acting like supreme boobs. I feel my IQ dropping on a daily basis. One thing's for sure...after March 30 I'm going to need a vacation.

This pic of Kendra on the way home Friday pretty much sums it up as to the way we feel:

Just dadgum dog tired...

The Ivory Tower of Knowledge Casts a Long Shadow of Ignorance

Ha. That's a quote from my friend Travis this week, and I think he hit the nail on the head.

Another week down, which leaves us only FOUR MORE WEEKS of the police academy!!! I can almost taste graduation day...

Speaking of tasting graduation day, they are actually going to serve a donut buffet. Seriously.

Our illustrious guest speaker this week was an incredibly arrogant and fairly portly fellow from the FBI who came to teach us about Constitutional Law - a subject we SHOULD have been taught in the first month, because it's very important stuff. All about protecting the public from the likes of police like us (otherwise known as Redcoats), and good info we need to keep our butts out of a sling by not violating someone's civil rights. Of course, it went in one ear and right out the other with most of the class.

So back to Mr. FBI. Apparently, on the FBI application, there must be a box you can check asking "Are you a pompous ass? If so, check this box." Every FBI agent so far to lecture us has been incredibly full of himself. This particular Mr. FBI referred to ALETA as "The Ivory Tower of Knowledge." THAT is just about made me fall out of my seat. I managed to stifle the involuntary incredulous snort before attracting attention. Ivory Tower of Knowledge...

Not much to comment about on Constitutional Law...the only thing good I can say is that it was excellent information, and that Mr. FBI actually taught rather than spoon feeding it to us at a 3rd grade level. However, he did yell and scream a lot...it was kind of like having an entire week with a "hell and brimstone" preacher. There were times when you just wanted to jump up and yell, "Tell it to us brotha!!! Amen!!! I got tha spirit now, hallelujah!!!" After a solid week of it, kind of leaves you on edge with a high stress level.

And speaking of stress, let's talk about Academy Cuisine. After a hard day of sitting in class, I love to relax and sit down to a hot meal of...

...whatever the hell this is. It's supposed to be "steak fingers"...I managed one bite before my mouth, throat, and stomach all gave a resounding, "NO WAY." And those other things are tater tots. I figure ALETA has stock somewhere in a tater tot factory, because we have them a lot. And for dessert, vanilla pudding COMPLETE with a cherry. Can you imagine the lunch ladies? "hmm...this vanilla pudding just looks so blah...what can we do to make students think they're getting a gourmet dessert? I know...let's put CHERRIES on it!!!"

Somewhere in ALETA there resides the Cherry Bandit who loves putting cherries on things. It doesn't stop with vanilla pudding...cherries are showing up everywhere. The next night:

Yes, that is now CHOCOLATE pudding with a cherry. But it keeps coming...

We've been able to grab a half a grapefruit pretty much every morning since we started ALETA. But now for some reason, in the 8th week, we're offered (drumroll)...grapfruit halves with CHERRIES!!! I feel so special...

Who knows what we might get next week...whipped creme? a whole grapefruit? I'm on the edge of my seat with anticipation...

That's about all the reacapping I can do of illustrious week 8. I'll keep trying to get pics of us in action in our sexy BDU pants. Have a great week!

PEPPER SPRAY IS THE DEVIL

Another week down! And boy, was this one a doozie...

So we started off the lovely week with the subject of Death Investigation, complete with even more shocking pictures. These weren't quite as bad, though...and actually I found myself forgetting to be grossed out and more intrigued with the investigative process. Kendra, however, was glued to the instructor's every word. If there was ever anyone born to be a crime scene investigator, it's Kendra. But we did learn some pretty cool stuff, such as how to work a crime scene and how to take fingerprints, which we then put into practice in practical excercises.

Then, on to the activity everyone was dreading - the Pepper Spray practical.

From what I've gathered, the purpose of spraying officers with pepper spray is that 1) they know what it feels like, and 2) they know they can survive it and work through it to survive whatever situation they are in when they are sprayed. I'm glad they don't take the same stance with our actual guns.

So this is the scenario:
Officer stands in front of the instructor armed with a baton and gun loaded with 3 simunition rounds (like paintball, only more painful), and proceeds to inform the instructor they are under arrest. Our instructor was a sadistic man named Mr. Poole. Mr. Poole sprays the officer, and the officer then has to use the baton on assailant #1 wearing a big protective suit. Once Mr. Poole deems assailant#1 down, assailant#2 (also in a protective suit) comes running from the other side, and the officer has to draw and fire 3 rounds into assailant#2, all without dropping the baton or any other gear. THEN, after all that, the officer has to use the radio to call in for help. If any piece of gear is dropped, the officer has to find it and pick it up.

Sounds simple...they even told us that most people have a good 20 second window before the stuff starts working, which is plenty of time to perform the excercise. BALONEY.

It seems I'm not one of those lucky people:

Me: "You're under arrest! You're under arrest!"
Mr. Poole: "I don't believe you"
Me: "You're under (spray) aaalglihasssssssssssaahhhh!"

My left eye immediately clamps shut. I can still see assailant #1, so I go whack him. After the first whack, my right eye clamps shut and my throat also decides to constrict, and my mind screams "OH SHIT!!!" I cease to remember anything from this point, but we all got a DVD recording it all. I managed to whack assailant #1 two more times, then turned around and couldn't get my gun out of the holster. I must've heard assailant#2 running at me, because I ran backwards and managed to get the gun out and shoot, then managed to get the radio and call in successfully. But then the fun REALLY started...everything that was clamped shut just clamped shut harder, and I could feel things starting to really swell. I was led over to the decontamination tanks, where I literally thought life was ending. All I can compare the feeling to is to imagine taking fresh habenero peppers and squeezing the juice on your face, in your eyes, and in your mouth, and inhaling some just for fun. I have no idea of the time frame at this point, but it felt like HOURS before I could open my eyes under their own power rather than prying them open with my fingers.

Travis, who had gone a few people before me and was at the tanks with me, said, "you looked like a botox disaster with 5 gallons of snot on your face...the most pathetic human being I've ever seen...still alive, at least."

I think, if I ever get into a situation where I have to pepper spray anyone, I'll just shoot them. I think it would be more humane.

I'm going to try to get some pictures this week...I know these posts are kinda boring with just text, but it's nearly impossible to get pics of ourselves in "action" at the academy. I'll work on it, though!

My Mind's Eye is Scarred

Not much to say about this week...we started off with an FBI agent showing some VERY graphic photographs of sexually deviant crimes, followed up by the railroad police and their videos of cars and people getting hit by trains. Thanks for that, guys...my mind's eye is permanently scarred. We also did CPR and First Aid, which was pretty much half-assed.

Half-Assed pretty much sums up ALETA. An that's all I got to say 'bout that.

The Math-Jeebies

Week 5 is down, and one more week to go until we hit the halfway mark! Man that seems like forever.
So far, ALETA has been nothing like I expected. I think if everything we learned weren't put at a 3rd grade level, at least a month could be cut out of training. This experience hasn't really increased my confidence in cops. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of good, smart, decent people down there, but roughly 1/4 of the class are a waste of space on earth. Makes things a bit tedious.
This week was Accident Investigation week, which I had a hard time getting in to. First, there was a fair bit of math involved, and I'm very sensitive to getting the Math-Jeebies. Second, I just couldn't see how AI is relavent to me as a Park Ranger. I've seen one accident in my career in parks, and it involved a girl driving an old Mustang on ice trying to make a curve but instead meeting with a park sign. It was in such slow motion that about 4 of us discussed the accident before it happened:

"Think she's gonna make that curve?"

"I dunno...kinda icy out there and you know Mustangs and ice..."

"She might make it...boy she's sure cranking on that steering wheel..."

"yeah....oops....not looking good..."

"Ooo! Yep, she got it."

"Guess we should go out there and see if there's any damage."

"No damage...she just bumped it"

"Hmm...well, guess we should go push her car out."

"Ok"

Definately nothing we needed charts, graphs, measuring tape, and a scientific calculator for. And if there ever IS a big wreck that needs an investigation, we just call up the Sheriff's Dept. and they bring an AI team - much more highly trained with the latest equipment and computer programs....or the State Troopers, who have the same. Sure won't need a park ranger with her piddly accident graph.
So, to say the least, it was a tedious week. The Math-Jeebies struck, but I was quickly able to beat them down when I figured out that I was a math genius compared to some of the morons in the class.

The only other thing we covered was pressure points in Defensive Tactics. I'm starting to hate that class. I can figure out how to hit someone without actually HAVING to hit someone, or BEING hit myself. I was lucky enough to be paired up with this older guy who looked like a lumberjack on steroids. I kick him, and he barely moves. He kicks me, and I'm extracting myself from an Ashlie-shaped indention in the concrete wall. I looked down the line and see Travis faring no better...I think there were about 4 Travis-shaped indentions in his section of concrete wall. Later, after inflicting more punishment on each other (I got Lewis *the Lumberjack* good with a shin-kick manuver), we came to the pinnacle of the classroom lecture - the dreaded Brachial strike. Basically, it's slapping the crap out of someone just below the ear on those nerves. I whacked Lewis the Lumberjack, and he of course didn't move, which meant the instructor wanted me to hit him harder. After a few more attempts and no reaction from Lewis (except for a bad "I just crapped myself" look), I was finally able to quit, but felt like a failure for not knocking him even out of his stance. Then we switched partners. Lewis whacked me, and I went down like a sack of potatoes made of lead, seeing blotches and stars and fighting for consciousness, thinking, "What the HELL???" Luckily that was the last manuver for the day, but we still had to take the test over AI. I don't know HOW I passed that test...I don't know my score yet, but they let us know if anyone flunked it by putting up SS#'s on the board after the test. I found myself leaned over my test, in a fog of pain, trying to comprehend the simplest questions. I didn't start feeling remotely better until a couple of hours later when we stopped to eat. Next thing to dread - pepper spray. It wasn't this week like I thought, but the week after next...just another thing to look forward to.

So next week - CPR and First Aid. Which should be boring as heck because I'm certified to teach it. At least the test shouldn't be a problem.*sigh*

Handcuffin' Fun

Oh, quit with the dirty minds...

Week 4 is DOWN! I can't believe I've made it through a whole month of Aleta...only 2 more months to go. Ugh. I don't like reading that. I realize my blog has been pretty boring of late, but my life has been pretty one-dimensional, being stuck in Camden.

The academy, however is turning out to be what Marden has called "an interesting study in sociology." When you put over 80 people together in a stressful situation, interesting things happen. Manners have pretty much gone out the window...I've heard more bad language, burping, and farting than I care to in the rest of my life. Well, except farting...that's pretty funny. Every morning we do PT at 5:30, and the "morning poots" hit, especially durning situps. We're lined up by squad, laying on the floor in neat rows, and the instructor calls "UP!", and it promptly followed by a resounding "BLBLUUUUURRRRRRPPPP!!!" of the morning poots. Luckily I haven't joined in the chorus, but the way things are going (along with the food we've been subjected to), I may lose any leanings toward ladylike behavior that I've been holding on to...however, it doesn't keep me from laughing. Hey, at 5:30 a.m., you have to have something to laugh at.

This week we covered lots of unsavory info which I won't go into, which made the week even more stressful than usual. Tensions between students is running pretty high, which is probably to be expected with the "diverse" personalities, and the subject matter of the lectures probably didn't help matters. But by Thursday we were doing practicals and actually up and doing stuff. The best (and worst) part was more lessons on handcuffing. We started with a handcuffing relay between squads, which my squad won, and we supervised the losing squad in pushups. After that, we learned what to do to a suspect we've handcuffed, who decides to act squirrely once you get one cuff on. The response to a squirrely suspect with one cuff on is to keep hold of the thumb and the cuff, and yank the bad guy out of his/her boots to the ground. OUCH. This was fun as long as you weren't the bad guy, but unfortunately, we had to take turns. Kendra and I were partners for this excercise...Kendra told me "if someone is going to kick my ass, I want it to be you." We both got our respective asses kicked. I think I had Kendra airborn a few times, and she gave me rugburn on my chin. Check out the results on our wrists!:


This is mine on the top (no, not broke, just swollen and slightly misshappen), and Kendra's wrist on the bottom.

I think most of the damage on my wrist was actually inflicted by the instructor, who used me as an example in a demonstration. I ate flooring on that one. After the first session of being slammed to the floor, we quickly found some athletic tape. The next session was not only throwing your partner to the ground, but sitting on top of them with their thumb and arm at an extremely uncomfortable angle and handcuffing the other wrist, then making them sit up, then stand. This resulted in a menagerie of ugly bruises to numerous bony prominences of the body.

Next week is Accident Investigation, and I THINK, if i remember right, that it's also the week we get sprayed with pepper spray. It's either this next week or the week after...in a way I am dreading it, and in another way I just want to get it over.

I'm outty for today...have a wonderful week!!!

Only 3 weeks down???

WHEW!!! I've now made it through three weeks of ALETA, which feels like a lifetime. I apologize, faithful readers, for not posting last weekend - I had the crud and spent every spare moment on the couch or in bed. So, I'll recap:

Week #2 - Qualifications

I was kind of nervous about qualification week. To "qualify", you must score at least 400 out of 500 points on two different targets in one day.
In our little preliminary State Park qualification rounds I did pretty well, but that was with nice, friendly, and familiar instructors and with targets that didn't move. I was really nervous to see how scary it would be to have to shoot on a real range, in timed conditions, with instructions coming from a disembodied voice over the loud speaker, and with about 30 other shooters...all under timed conditions with targets that actually ROTATE toward you to signal when to draw.
I started out shooting like crap. It IS intimidating hearing a voice saying "SHOOTERS ON THE LINE....AT THE 25 YARD LINE FROM THE BARRICADE POSITION FROM THE HOLSTER, TWO ROUNDS IN TWO SECONDS...WATCH YOUR TARGETS" while I have an instructor behind me threatening to cut off my finger if I don't quit jerking the trigger. So here I am, standing on the line watching my target, and hear a loud "PSSSHHHHHHHT!", which was my target turning toward me. Scared the bejezus out of me, so needless to say those first two shots went a little wild and didn't even HIT the target. I think one might have hit my neighbor's target...as for the other round, the clip holding my cardboard target on the rack turned out to be slightly damaged. Well, it had a big hole in it.
It took me a few rounds, but I finally pulled it together and shot not just a qualifying score, but (shines fingernails on shirt) qualified Sharpshooter. Not quite as good as Travis's almighty Expert qualification, but I'm the only female in the class to shoot Sharpshooter. All state park people got qualified...matter of fact, the whole class got qualified save one, but she was having other troubles.

Week #3

This week we were back in the classroom, again fighting to stay awake. We had lectures on domestic violence, arson, and I'm not sure what all else because I spent a fair amount of time doodling. We watched some videos, too. I'm pretty sure it's a law that all law enforcement insturctional videos had to be made in 1987.
Finally late in the week we got to do some scenarios and we started on defensive tactics. Defensive tactics was pretty cool - I now know how to properly handcuff a felon, so beware. Scenarios were interesting, and that's pretty much all I'm going to say. With the extreme lack of professionalism going on down there, I'm not sure what purpose they really served.

I'm most unhappy to report that the food is getting no better. It seems necessary to serve something breaded, fried, and covered in gravy for every meal...and the alternative of a salad bar is nearly as bad. I finally started taking my own food, and Marden bought me a little refrig for my room so Kendra and I can have some decent sustinance.

*sigh*...well, 9 more weeks and I'll officially be Officer Hooter...can I make it? More importantly, can I make it without shooting several classmates? :)

One week down, 11 more to go...

Well, I have made it through one measly week of ALETA, and it was quite possibly the longest week of my life. It really wasn't that bad, though...they run the school kind of quasi-military style, which means doing stuff like wearing BDU pants and combat boots along with issued ALETA shirts, name badges, hats outdoors (and they are SEXY, let me tell you), and lining up for formation at the flag every morning and evening. Plus, morning PT. Morning PT sucks...we start at 5:15 in the gym for excercises and then running. The physical exertion itself isn't hard at all, but it the getting up at 4:45 am that's getting me. However, they say it's going to get tougher...we'll see. Right now I'm #2 in PT scores in the whole class. That's not saying much - I am in the 30+ age group now! I do hope to keep the spot, though. As far as the academic part, this week has been pretty darn easy. My biggest obstacle was staying awake in class...a problem I've never had before - not even in college. The problem is that even though it's new and good information, it's presented at about a 5th grade level. During the "Testifying in Court" class, I actually fell forward hit my forehead on my book and woke myself up...which means I got lucky by not getting caught sleeping. Classes should get more exciting as the weeks progress, though, since we'll be delving deeper into real cop work.

Park people are all doing extremely well. First, though, you have to consider that the qualifications for most police officers are to be 21 and have a high school education, while the quals for any park law enforcement position are not only a college degree but also a halfway decent level of competency and a high degree of professionalism. Those latter two seem to be lacking from a LOT of prospective officers at ALETA. I guess I have to look back at myself in my early 20's...I don't remember myself having ANY professionalism and very little in the way of common sense. :) So, I guess some of the behavior is pretty understandable.

Room accomodations are pretty much dorm-like, with the biggest downfall being that 8 women have to share TWO showers. And there's not much privacy as far as the showers go. Kendra and I lucked out - we're roomies! It makes it a LOT better when you're rooming with a good friend as opposed to a total stranger. On top of that, we're in the same squad along with Travis. I can't imagine going through this thing alone.

I can't believe I already have to report back tomorrow, but it does feel good to have one week out of the way. All of the anxiety of not knowing what to expect is gone, and now I'm much more relaxed and actually enjoying learning new stuff. Marden is doing pretty good on his own during the week taking care of the house and the dogs and cats. It stinks being away during the week, but we both know it's necessary and he's very supportive.

Starting Monday we are at the firing range all week, which I'm really looking forward to. We have to shoot 2 qualifying rounds in one day with our duty weapons to "qualify", which is necessary for graduation. But, we have 4 chances per day and until Friday to do it in.

Well, I hope by next weekend I will have qualified with flying colors. Also, I hope not to be quite as worn out, and I can talk about some of the really funny things happening down there. Like the farting during morning PT...the little romances that seem to be blooming between students...the food...the idiots making it pubically known that they are idiots. Speaking of idiots, the instuctors told us that it was optional to wear our bulletproof vests at the range. YOU'D BETTER BELIEVE I'M WEARING MINE!!!

My Initiation Into A Deviant Subculture

*WARNING - THE FOLLOWING POST MAY CONTAIN CONTENT DISTURBING TO SOME VIEWERS. VIEWER DISCRETION IS ADVISED*

Ha...bet that made you want to read it, huh? Well, fair warning - if you don't approve of hunting, don't read this post. Yes friends, Hades has probably frozen over (feel that chill in your toes?)...

...as many of you know, I *gasp* killed a deer this past fall.

Now let me give you a little background. Most of you know I grew up outside a little bitty town in southwest Missouri. I've been fishing my whole life, but hunting has never interested me, even though I'm well versed with both guns and hunters. Matter of fact, I've always held hunters in a little bit of contempt...what could be so fun about sitting there waiting for some hapless creature just minding his own business to come by so you can blow it to smithereens? Of course, it's not like fishing at all...I mean, casting a thing out in the water which looks EXACTLY like food and dragging a poor fish through the water by his lips when he tries to get a bite to eat surely is the sport of kings (and queens). Yet, somehow fishing was different in my mind than hunting...hunters are cold-blooded killers, right? Even though I realize the importance of hunting to keep wildlife healthy and thriving, I still viewed hunters as rednecks with no compassion, who just thrive on the kill.
But, in my old age (and with my marriage to a true redneck), my views have changed somewhat and I realized that just maybe I was being a leeetle too hard on hunters. Last year I finally relented and let a friend take me turkey hunting. I found out there is a lot to turkey hunting...they don't just waltz by and pose so you can shoot them. Matter of fact, I've been four times and have yet to get within even a quarter of the distance I need to be to put one of those birds on our thanksgiving table. Stupid little buggers...to be outsmarted by a bird will humble a person a bit.

So Marden is a hunter, and yet he's not that cold-blooded killer. Redneck, yes...but that's beside the point. And since I've introduced him to my passion of fly fishing, I decided to give hunting a try for his sake. So, this past deer season he took me hunting on his family's farm.

We rose before dawn....WAY before dawn...and Marden advised me to take a shower or else the deer would smell us. Oh good grief. It's not like I stink. But he insisted, and shortly we were both "non-scented" and in our camo duds and blaze orange, bundled up good because it was freezing out there. I've never felt so ridiculous. But out we trudged, guns in hand, to a spot Marden thought would be good where we commenced to sit while the sun came up. And we sat. And sat some more. By this time I've totally lost interest and am trying to figure out what kind of bird that is over in a nearby tree (some kind of wren), and trying to remember what it felt like to have feeling in my butt. By the time I'd resorted to amusing myself by braiding blades of grass, Marden let out a soft "pssst" and pointed up the hill. There was a doe! Does aren't legal, but during the rut (breeding season) usually there is a buck not far behind. This time, however, the doe seemed to be going solo. We decided to give up and go get some breakfast and give it another try that evening.


After a good breakfast and a short nap, we trudged out again just to see what was going on and skirted the perimeter of the farm, ending up at the big hay fields down the hill from the Hooter household. Now it's the middle of the day, and we're just meandering non-chalantly near some big hay bales chit-chatting, not even trying to be quiet, when Marden looks over my shoulder and sputter-whispers something like, "Deer...buck...there's a buck...shoot that buck!!!" I whirled around throwing my rifle dramatically against my shoulder to come face to face with an 8-point buck about 75 yards away. I shot before I could think, and my buck ran a little ways and plopped on the ground. I burst into tears.

After my husband consoled me a bit, we ran to see the verdict. Now I was starting to get proud...LOOK WHAT I HAVE DONE....I SHOOT MY OWN MEAT! GRRR!!!



So everyone was completely impressed that I got a deer not only on the first day of season, but that it was an 8-point and that it was the first time I ever even shot the gun. Marden of course had to show me up by bagging a BIGGER 8-point the next day. Well nyaa.

And the moral of the story is - deer hunting isn't as fun as fly fishing by any means, but it is pretty fun and you get to dress cool. And, when i look in the freezer trying to find something to fix for supper, seeing all that delicious *free* meat sure is rewarding, and it will last us all winter with plenty to share.

This is Marden and I next to his deer before it was field dressed. Marden's aunt dubbed this the "Deliverance Photo." I was trying to look like a tough hunter. I think Marden was going for the "I just peed my pants" look.

Testing 123

Pay no attention to this post...just checking to see if the new version of blogger is going to work for me.

In the meantime, everyone say "Awwwwww" at this pic of Marden and Sally napping over at his parent's house.

Hope everyone had a Happy New Years! After reading Aussie Clare's blog, I wonder what the heck I'm still doing here in the States. Beautiful weather and beautiful beaches seem to be what their holidays are all about, while here in AR we're all about rain...no snow, just crappy rain. It's not even COLD like it's supposed to be...just somewhere in limbo between fall and spring. That's hard to take after being in beautiful snowy Colorado. Ah well, I guess complaining about it does nothing. I'll just keep wearing short-sleeved shirts, though it just feels so WRONG.

Mr. Hooter and I spent the weekend at his folks up in the boonies, and had a very nice time. Marden introduced Sally (our beagle) and me to the joys of rabbit hunting along with his big hound Major, who did nothing but tree squirrels the whole time, and his grandparent's beagle Copper, who did only a little hunting and a lot of begging for the treats in my pocket. Really to me it should be called "Walking Around In The Woods Watching Dogs Sniff Things" rather than "Rabbit Hunting." Besides, we didn't have a gun, so it was more "Rabbit Watching" anyway. Sally didn't really get it. She mostly chased Copper trying to get him to play and only did a little actual sniffing for rabbits. At least I think she was sniffing for rabbits...she could have just been sniffing in general. Marden seemed to know...he kept whispering "she's on the scent!" when it just looked to me like she was smelling Copper's butt. But not being an experienced rabbit hunter, what do I know?

Very shortly this new year for me will start with a bang - literally! I have to show up on the police academy doorstep along with my other state park cohorts on Sunday afternoon, like it or not. It'll be a fun-filled three months, full of high adventure and all the excitement I can possibly handle. Shhh...I'm fooling myself, so don't tell me. At least it'll be something different...usually this time of year is the most tedious - end of year reports, budget coming up, and football season ends. Time for the never-ending basketball season, which I find absolutely worthless. I do have some fly rods that I'd like to get to building, but I think this academy stuff will cut into that greatly. I'll only get partial weekends at home now, since it's 5 hours away and we only get Friday evening through Sunday evening off. Marden is taking it pretty well, with a minimal amount of whining and providing me with a lot of support. It's going to be tough, but we'll make it just fine, and I'll come out of the academy a True Gunslinger.

But don't worry...the blog will continue, but only on weekends for a while. I'll be sure to let everyone know the 411 on what goes on inside the secretive walls of the Arkansas Law Enforcement Academy...

Back from Vacation...

Well I did it again...left without saying goodbye. So sorry to disappear like that, and I can't promise it won't happen again. Never fear, though...I'll always make an appearance sooner or later. I trust everyone had a very MERRY CHRISTMAS!
Mr. Hooter and I have returned from our Christmas/Late Honeymoon ski trip to Colorado. Of course it was awesome, and we lived through the horrible "Holiday Blizzard of 2006." What I found pretty funny was that while the local news here was predicting Colorado's doom in the awful terrible world-ending snowstorm that just might wipe the state off the map, the people of the town we stayed were celebrating "finally" getting some substantial snow that would help tourism. Funny how point of view can differ. I do feel bad for the folks stuck in the airport, but from what we saw, they were the only ones in real dire distress. We suffered through the horrible blizzard as best we could by careening down the ski slopes, drinking plenty of hot chocolate, and enjoying the 22" of white stuff immensly along with the locals.

Stay tuned for more...and for entertaining ski pics!

Aaaaaaad....I'm back

So sorry for all you out there just biting your nails waiting for the next post. :) Well, I've been out of pocket as of late...December is a busy time for park stuff. Week before last was the Gift Show at DeGray, and last week was a preliminary training for prospective park gunslingers, of which I am one. January 7th I'll have to report to ALETA (that's the Arkansas Law Enforcement Training Academy for those of you not in the know) along with Kendra and Travis for 3 long months, after which we'll be officially qualified to stand around with arms rested on gunbelts, slugging down donuts, and yelling Park Rangery stuff like, "FREEZE! Put your hands where I can see them, and get the DOG on a LEASH!"
This past week was a park training so we can become more familiar with our park-issued weapons and to be sure to pass the shooting course at ALETA. And I'm VERY grateful for the pre-ALETA training...I can't imagine what it would be like to get down there and slapped on the shooting range, thinking, "what the crap is this???"

I'm happy to say we all did well...if the park system is ever attacked by cardboard man-silhouette targets, the parks will prevail.

Cuttin' up

Cheesy title, yeah...sorry about that, but it couldn't be helped. This is my friend Judith in a cutting competition. Doesn't she look cool? I aspire to this position someday soon, but for now I'm just a lowly admiring spectator and illustrious horse warmer-upper.