Tx Diva Home_in the news

Oh Great! It’s a Gurl!

As you lay your head down on the pillow, you do a double check in your mind that all your needed gear is readily available and laid out on the floor to jump into at 4:30 am the next morning. Being the only girl, you know that you can not hold up the guys putting on your special thong underwear, applying makeup, or getting your hair to look just right under your cap.

Five a.m. driving down the road, you think you see something ahead of you, but being the only girl, you do not want to appear skittish, wimpy, or overly maternal. I mean, for heaven sake, you are going out hunting to kill things!

But, sure looks like there is something ahead on this two-lane country road. Yikes! I was right, man pulling a boat with no trailer lights. Oh, and of course, now he wants to turn left just as we start to pass him.

Moron! I was right, but still alive and thankfully, I did not have to show my feminine side. Whoa, that was a close ‘gurl call’.

As we arrive at the rendezvous. Okay, well, rendezvous might be a little too affected in this context, but you get the idea

Everyone makes their introductions, and even though it is dark as pitch and we all look ‘camo dark’ meaning to distinguishing characteristics, you still hear it:

“Oh great, a gurl!”

Time to load up the gear into the four-wheeler.

Keep it to yourself, do not tell them, they really do not want to hear that you have never been on a four-wheeler before. Be cool, timing is everything. Remember, they already think you are a ‘gurl’ but Gosh darnit, don’t they issue helmets with this thing?

John the guide, drives down the path.

Jeez, does he know how to operate this thing?

David holds my knee; that makes me feel better. We teeter to the right, now left, oh, and there is that rut in the road, one wheel on, one wheel off.

Wonder if these things flip over? Okay, just don’t think about it, just like the trailer with no lights, leave it to the professionals.

You gurl you! If you die getting thrown from a four-wheeler, it will be a noble death. After all, you are clothed like a professional in your neoprene waders and wading boots. Oh gosh, they will strip me down and find my camo thong panties! Well, as David always says, you will match.

Gosh , it is beautiful our here; natural fields of rice and flowers, the sun coming up big and red in the distance, birds gracefully gliding and landing on the ponds for an early morning swim.

Stop it! Remember, you are going to be killing those birds, not painting them

John stops and issues directions: “Watch your step!”

Right, well I would but I cannot see it.

As I put my foot down, I feel this gooey feeling around my waders:

squish, slop, squish. Hmm, can’t see where I am going, wonder what is in here?

Okay, that is the third question, or was it the fourth, NOT to ask. Just try and stay upright, going facedown in the gunk would be a definitive assurance of your girlhood, and least of all, hurt, your professionally attired standing, cause you look pretty good. Okay, so you’re not a professional, but you got the gear look going on. And remember, you are a gurl and they expect you to ask some dumb questions like that. Well, I’ll show them, I am not a gurl, and I do not care what I step on. I am insulated after all. Still do you think there are snakes in here?

Funny, it feels kind of neat, wet but not wet, cool against your waders, but you are not cold, mushy and gooey yet nothing touching your skin. All good things. Oh and that sound! I love that sound! As your feet and legs push through the water in the dark, a rhythm of sorts harmonizes with David’s footsteps behind you. We are making music in the flooded rice fields, with a big red sun coming up behind us. I like it! See, I am not totally a gurl!

One small problem: It is apparent that these darn neoprene waders are not unisex. One’s lack of stuffing in a certain area seems to lead to a gap in the same area, which leads to a sag that translates into the crotch being down by my knees.

I really need to put my gun down and hike these babies up. Just a little further to the blind, and then I can get a good purchase on them and get them back where they belong.

Wonder what it looks like from behind? Pretty funny I bet…oh yeah, it is dark, David can’t see what it looks like, and I would bet that he has ducks on the brain, not where my neoprene waders are riding or what they are hugging. Gosh, this sag sure is taking my eye off the ball.

Oh, boy, now there is something I recognize! It is metal horse trough! Five a.m., wading through flooded rice fields, it is the duck blind.

John climbs in one leg at a time. As I begin to hike my leg over, I realize that these blasted waders residing at my knees are an impediment to my flexibility.

Another potential pitfall for falling on your face, only to confirm you girlhood.

Okay, just take your time. Lift higher than normal to compensate for the binding at the knee.

I bet a guy couldn’t do that.

Once in there, you can put your gun down and stop your penguin stance and pull up. Gosh, that will feel so good.

It is akin to an evening at the symphony with sagging pantyhose. Clearly not anything a guy could relate to. They should try being a gurl sometime.

Which leads me to another consideration: I hope I will not have to address, how to pee. Okay let’s not talk about it.

,just get in that darn blind.

Note to self: Patent Girl Wades without extra clearance in crotch area.

Oh, heaven! On a stool, waders back in place, and the sun rising behind us in a beautiful silhouette to the pond.

Okay, just mimic what the guys do.

John, to my left sloshes around in the water while fighting a running nose and a wicked cough. David, to my right, rest his gun on the metal lip of the trough.

Oh good, I am going to do that! Just try be cool. Please, God, do not let me scream or worse yet, throw up. Do you think you would throw up? No, that is not going to happen. Oh boy, I could faint! No won’t! Like that has ever happened before.

This is really kind of cozy; amazing how very warm I am. Well, I was told to layer: panties first, long underwear, under armour, camo shirt, turtleneck, waders, camo neck gaiter, and of course, hat. Well, who wouldn’t be warm. Gosh, wonder if I am going to be able to move, bring up that gun, and point it with artistry, skillfulness and accuracy.

Who am I kidding? You have developed none of those skills. You will be lucky if you are able to hit a flying elephant out of the sky.

John begins making noises over to my left; well, other than snorting and coughing. Using long cylinders draped around his neck, he mimics the sound of a duck.

Now, really, don’t you think those darn ducks would know the difference? And won’t they hear the snorting and coughing in between the duck quacks?

Look, here they come! David gets ready. John whispers

Because, of course, they can hear you talking but not coughing and snorting.

Then all hell breaks loose. The boys jump up from the horse trough, elbow to elbow and start shooting on both sides of me.

Oh Sweet Mary! I am surrounded by ducks and wildmen. Don’t panic, raise your gun, hurry, find one, point. Like David said, “shoot them in the beak” Well I would but I cannot keep my eyes open long enough with all the gunfire going off on either side of me to keep one in my sights.

The gunfire stops. Let’s see, how many down? Two, three, floating in the pond.

Look! That one is trying to get away! Boom!

Duck commentary is exchanged but I cannot make sense of it. My head is still ringing and my heart is pounding like a drum.

John says to me, “Don’t be afraid to shoot.”

Right! Thanks, John, for the pointer!

Reloading______ her they come again!

I can do this! Focus! Don’t worry about what those wildmen are doing on either side of you.

Repeat after me( oh yeah, you are me).

“I am in this metal through by myself, I can see my duck,

yeah, and there is his beak.

Put your gun barrel right on that beak,

follow, follow,

take your time, take your time,

now pull the trigger!

Boom! Pull it again! Boom! Pull it again! Boom!

Did I get one? Holy cow! Holy Moley! Holy duck magic! I got one!

Maybe it wasn’t me, maybe I just thought I hit it.

No, no, it was me. I am being congratulated. David gives me a high five___the male symbol of success. I would have preferred the football symbol__ a pat on the butt.

I am alive! I am a G-u-r-l! I want to do that again! Holy quackers, that was fun! Okay, start blowing that quack-talker again, John. Let’s get those flying beaks back to this pond so I can do that again!

Godspeed & a Giggle.