Bullet Pens

It's the beginning of the High Holy Month of Deer Hunting here. There is an inordinate amount of shooting going on - the ceremonious "sighting in of the gun". Soon it will be time for the faithful to make a pilgrimage into the woods - doing penance by sitting in a tree in the cold and dark, eyes facing east watching for those first rays of the sun, and a prayer on their lips - seeking the Grail of a Boone and Crockett trophy buck. Even I, an unbeliever, wear the regulation orange garb when walking in their midst. Mike, who works w/ me at the dairy, asked for that Holy of Holies week - Rifle Season - off. The owners said he could have all of it except Friday - since Susan had already requested that day and they would be short-handed if both of us were gone. Mike is an all around good guy and I don't like being the reason he has to cut short his worship service.   I feel like such an infidel.