A Hunter's Widow//The Widow's Revival

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As a Midwesterner, it behooves me (get it?) to acknowledge the informal season known as hunting.

For those of you who hunt, kudos to you. You are not left behind in the dust when your partner decides to go all Bear Grylls and post up in the woods for days on end. 

This is the first year of co-habitation, so it's my first year of having to accept that I will be a solo domestic for many-a-fall weekends.  And I've got to say... I didn't hate it.

In fact, I kind of loved it. 

I missed man-friend in the most irritating fashion. I say irritating because while I was sprawled out on the couch taking up every Ikea inch-- a feat formerly thought physically impossible-- I was having the best time ever, but still kind of wanted him by my side. Is there an emotion that describes longing and simultaneous content?

But I thoroughly enjoyed the time alone. With the winds kicking up and cold-fronts rolling in on the regular, I avoid the outdoors between bare-tree and snow season. It's a personal preference, but it also limits me from impromptu exploring. 

So what did I do? Well, I didn't do the dishes, but I did deep clean the garbage cans. A cleaning process that is not logical, and also cannot be explained to a partner without them wondering why you would do one without doing the other. Why did I do such an obscure task before something that actually requires regular attention? Because I could. 

I sorted through my mail, and moved things into storage. Lit candles and ate pizza in my most unattractive clothes*. I listened to my audiobook and organized my mind while creating a mess in our apartment.

I don't think the fluorescent orange widows should dread hunting season. I think it should be viewed as a time  of freedom where we, the left behind gatherers, take life by the horns!

I know that was a terrible joke, but you get the point. 

*I'll point out that even with man-friend home, I don't dress like a Desperate Housewife, but while I wore socks, slippers and no pants, I felt a special kind of liberation that comes from being alone.