Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
  • Image Hosted by ImageShack.us PC Pookie today is also hunting she wants to participate to the subject. But she is only hunting a moth here and I am very pleased about that !

    Today is cleaning day here. That means that my cleaning woman Julia comes and puts everything upside down. And this made me think about my Blogger Friend "That Cleaning Lady". Not because of cleaning but because she wrote a very nice post about hunting !

    I hate hunters and can't understand why they have to kill animals when they can buy their meat in a butchery or Supermarket. On top of it they call it "Sport" as if killing is a sport. I can't add more to that subject as "My cleaning Lady" wrote everything which I would have written too here.

    The first and certainly the last time in my life I attended to a haunting "party" was when I were 20 years old and invited by my, at that time, boyfriend. Young and innocent I didn't know at all what that meant.

    It took place in the woods around the family castle and there were about ten hunters. Only men. A few women were there too, but more for showing their last expensive hunting costume. He had bought me one too, because I were his decoration. But I didn't feel well at all in that thing. For the hunting, rapids and pheasans were "placed at disposal". For this event, young men had been hired who went through the woods shouting and beating bushes with a baton, so that the poor rapids would come out and the pheasants too. When the first rapid showed up and 10 men started shooting, the poor thing of course had no chance. There I started to think what heros they were, 10 against one poor rapid.

    With the next one, I suddenly catched an awful cold and sneezed as loud as I could, I think an elephant would have been more discrete than me. For this I earned killer looks. The second time they got angry and asked me to hold my handkerchief at my nose and not to sneeze so loud. I did so, but suddenly got an awful caugh. Finally as it didn't stop (I know why) my boyfriend brought me in the castle (I can't say house) and asked me to stay there, and if I needed any medication.
    The only medication I needed was to find something to go out again. So I told the watching Butler, that I felt better and could join the party again. But I think he had got instructions from other participants and kindly asked me to wait here, because anyway it would be over in a short while. And indeed it were. They arrived all very proudly with swollen chests, holding some poor bleeding rapids and pheasants. They were laughing and had enjoyed this "sport" very much. They handed their preys over to two servants and asked them to clean the dead animals as they wanted to have them for supper. They generously offered me a rapid, offer which I declined with horror and from this day on I hate hunting and hunters and declared them to killers.


    Mrs Lifecruiser said...

    Ouch. I would have done the same. At least. I'm glad that I have no similar experience, even though I did grow up just beside a little castle. It was not private though, so it was very nice seightseeings around an in it instead. And piano conserts.

    happy and blue 2 said...

    I don't hunt. I would rather watch nature than kill it..

    mar said...

    Now you don't need to ask me why I seldom eat red meat! I even feel sorry for those tiny quails from the store my son and husband love to grill ... I just can't!

    That Cleaning Lady said...

    Well, gosh I feel special, thanks so much for linking to my blog!! I hope we get a lot of comments about hunting, and maybe some of those women will make their husbands put the guns back in the closet!
    Last weekend we went out where they hunt birds and deer and we talked loud and crashed around as much as possible. I wish we could have pulled those decoy's out of the lake, but they are put there with a boat, and we don't have one.
    I'll never do any hunting besides in antique shops and yarn stores!

    Mrs. Angry said...

    Hello Gattina (yes you, I think) I just posted a comment at That Cleaning Lady (yes that one)'s site. I'm a bit mixed up just now. You're Ingrid, she's Jana right? I'm Mrs Angry (currently fixated on Carol Smillie). I think all hunters are like Scott Kelly with small dicks (I think I can say that here as it says so on one of your pictures on this page ahem...) That's the science of it apparently. Hunting defenceless animals, driving big cars, and guns/wars and gangstership are all just compensation for small willies. The answer is castration, pure and simple.