rodent, it's what's for dinner
Tuesday, August 18 Oh. My. Gosh.
Please do not scroll down if you'd find the image of a dead, skinned rodent disturbing. Why would I have a picture of a dead, skinned rodent? Because after a long day at the office I opened the fridge and found it there in a bowl, right next to the cole slaw, right where you’d expect to find a dead, skinned rodent in my house. And because it didn’t make me even a teeny, tiny bit hungry, I decided to photograph it. Right after I finished yelling and poured myself a glass of wine.
City Boy, are you there? Please prepare your guest bed for me. Dead rodents — which they never ate on Frontier House — are my tipping point, so I'm leaving Montana and moving to New York City to live with you and Uncle Bos (Uncle Bos is what the boys call City Boy’s long-time partner). I will say this in writing, City Boy: I am sorry for all those times when you were little when I would sneak over to your bed and scream in your ear just as you were drifting off to sleep. I’m also sorry as can be about the yogurt mixed with pickle juice and wet dog food I tricked you into eating. That was just plain mean. I’m sorry if having me as a big sister convinced you in any way that you could never live with a woman. Not because I don’t love and fully accept you and Uncle Bos, but because I know things are harder for you both because you’re still not given the same rights that many of us take for granted. Don’t get me started.
I digress.
Cooked them vittles right up, then we had ourselves a regular ol' hootenanny, we did.
Oldest Son, who for the rest of this entry will be called Red, short for REDNECK, shot and skinned the squirrel while out target practicing with Shawn. And while Red never shoots anything he doesn’t intend to eat, it’s not like I’ve got a recipe for squirrel stew I’ve been dying to try.
Two nights later, when I told Red I wanted the squirrel gone, he cooked it up for himself, Youngest Son and a friend, frying it in butter and garlic.
“Oh my gosh, this is soooo good,” they all exclaimed.
“Mom, you have to try a bite,” Red said. “Come, on it’s the ‘Try It’ rule.”
“Not happening,” I said.
“’Try It’ rule,” he implored.
“Sure, just like I did with the rabbit,” I snapped back.
Years ago he proudly brought home his first rabbit from a hunting trip and told me under house laws (which include my own mandated “Try It” rule), I would be having rabbit for dinner. Unfortunately, he grabbed my napkin and busted me for the tiny rabbit morsel I’d hidden there.
Honestly, we’re both lost causes. I will NEVER eat this stuff, and he will always love it. Red has books on his shelf with recipes called Possum n’Taters One, and Possum n’ Taters Two, as well as directions for how to spruce up road kill in a pinch.
“I hope you said thank you to the squirrel for giving his life,” I said as he nibbled the last bits of yummyness from the squirrel’s delicate ribs.
“I did,” he said earnestly. “It was a boy squirrel and I prayed for it.”
“You did?” I said.
“Yep, I prayed that he was in heaven in a big cozy nest and that he had lots of lady squirrels to keep him company...I prayed that last bit ‘cause I’m a guy, you know?”
A guy? Really. Now there's a newsflash.
Visual cleanser after that last photo, which shall not be spoken of again. Monkeyflowers grow along creeks in Montana during high summer.
Reader Comments (4)
Now that I've stopped laughing and dried my eyes, I will say that my new name for Red is Jeremiah Johnson. And you are welcome to find respite in Florida any time you'd like.
BTW, wow, you really were a mean sister.
Well, at least it was skinned & dressed. Coulda been worse.
We'll be seeing City Boy & Uncle Bos in 10 days or so. I'll be sure to buy him a drink in sympathy for his tormented youth.
And I had such a different image of my sweet innocent neese. I should have known better. Although thinking back at some of the stuff I pulled on my older sister (can you say "snare drum at 7:00 AM"?) I shouldn't be surprised.
Wet dog food yougurt and pickle juice. I really wish I knew you when we were younger. lol I got my brother to drink or forced my brother to drink milk and orange juice which was currdled, I also tricked him into drinking lemonaid and tabasco. The tabasco incident earned us a grounding because of a broken window. Lets just say I ducked just in time. Red is a good name for oldest son, lol Keep writing I am enjoying getting to know you better.
The snare drum was a treat, especially after finals. But at least there was never any skinned lifestock in the fridge.
Love the blog.