Saturday, July 14, 2012

Welcome to the Country - where languages change with the season


Welcome to the Country - a humorous look at life in the country, By, Charity Maness
So you’ve decided to move to the country where the language changes with the season.

Yes we have multiple languages up here in the foothills, nothing that is recognized a ‘real’ language thereby making us bilingual, but a language unto itself none the less.

I am speaking of the language of the season, as in, deer season, turkey season, boar season, etc. The first time Wyatt asked if I could find a D4 topo map I thought he had gone bonkers. Was that his lazy attempt at shortening WD-40? As if WD-40 was not short enough already. And what the heck was a topo map? One look of stunned amazement from my husband and a knowing disappointed shake of his head I knew I was missing something. He gently pulled me aside and explained that D4 was an area that one could hunt deer at a specific time of year, and that a topo map was an aerial type map showing terrain. I nodded; not wanting to let on that it was going in one ear and out the other. 

After some himing and hawing with two of my mini Wyatts they came to an agreement that when dad went to work they would accompany me to the correct office to get the paperwork. Great, I was going to be led by the hand by two testosterone filled teens into an ‘office’ to find necessary stuff for D4, not WD-40. On Wyatt’s way out the door he stopped and said, “Don’t forget to get them licenses, ok?” And off to work he went.

Licenses?!?! They were 13 and 14! There was no way in the world I was going to let them drive any of my vehicles. I walk into the kitchen grumbling about the fact that testosterone shouldn’t be behind the wheel of a car at any age when my mini Wyatt’s inform me in an aggravatingly superior all knowing tone, “Seriously mom, we don’t need driver’s licenses, we need hunting licenses.” Oh, my bad. 

I load up my clown car, loving called that because every time we stop and the kids get out they just keep coming, quite the sight to behold. At one point Wyatt and I had 7 two legged critter’s living under our roof, hence the clown car. As I was saying, the clown car is loaded up as were off. A quick trip, minimal paperwork and my boys are licensed to kill Bambi, lucky me. (That was sarcasm folks.)
But one cannot possibly hunt without camo, boda bags, gps, topo maps, med kit, scope (not mouthwash), etc. All these terms used so frequently in any normal conversation…not! Unless you live in the country.

Would you care to talk fish? Again one needs a license. Go figure. Okay, there are lures, not something to make someone want to come into a store and shop. There are bobbers, not what I do when I attempt to swim. There are barbed hooks, not to be confused with long fingernails or nasty words that come from mean people. And there is stinky bait, which smells very similar to my teenage Wyatt’s bedroom. Why anyone would want to bottle that is beyond me. And I for one DO NOT want to eat any fish that thinks ‘stinky bait’ is appetizing, no thanks.  Then there is the test line. How a line can take a test still baffles me, but evidently there are multiple test lines. One cannot use the same one for all fish. Let’s not forget the balanced pole; I won’t even venture to guess the meaning of that one. I bet if Huck Finn knew all this stuff he would have thrown away his willow branch pole and string line in a heartbeat.

Don’t even get me started on fowl. I am certain that up here in the country we have to be the reason for the creation of Bass Pro Shop.

So whether you hunt like Wyatt and the many mini Wyatt’s or like me you choose to stay uninformed about such things, one thing is for certain, when you live in the country you need to speak the lingo, or at least be able to fake it… “Hey honey, my hunting buddy’s (girlfriends) and I are headed to the D4 (department store) fully equipped (with your credit card) to lure some camo (clothing) into our shopping carts. We may stop by the pub for some stinky bait (drinks) so that our barbed (menopausal) friend will hopefully find a new balanced pole (you figure it out).”
Whew! Hope that made you laugh.

Until next time…welcome to the country…welcome home.

Welcome to the Country THE BOOK is now available at Amazon.com and on Kindle