Huntress in the Making

Something happened yesterday that could be life changing. I got my Christmas present early beacause there was a super sale at Dick's.

I got a 12 gauge Mossberg 500 shotgun. I also threw in a camo tee and some "outdoor" pants. So I could be fully outfitted for our upcoming Pheasant hunting adventure. And when I got home last night I tried my entire hunting outfit on out of excitement. And my husband was so proud he took a picture.

And I think I look like a real huntress. Except for the fact that you cannot see in this picture that I would never shoot a deer. Or a pig or a cow. Or put a worm on a hook. Or clean a pheasant even. Heck, I still gag when I cut up chicken breasts from a store bought styrofome package.

Philosophically speaking, my husband firmly believes we should only hunt animals that will starve or get hit by cars unless we help with the population control. In addition, he thinks we should not hunt things we will not eat. And logically I can agree he's right. But that does not convince me to want to partake for the same reasons. Because admittedly, I believe I should hunt all rodents that simply bother me, like rats, geese, raccoons, skunks and possums.

I think he is a little scared I will get arrested for a felony for shooting "willy nilly" at pesky varmints in our yard. Or in our house. Because yesterday when we found a beetle on the wall I asked him for the 12 gauge. He smiled at me in a scared way. A very scared way.

And I must admit I have a some desire to be very Hillbilly about the whole thing.

I Married Him, Not the Dress!

I cleaned out my closet. Threw out some clothes I wouldn't even give to a homeless person. Put others in a bag, because they might look charming on a homeless person. Some items I designated to the "spare" closet, because the jury is still out. Not sure if the black polyester wrap dress I bought for a funeral four years ago, which looks adorable on me, is ever going to rise out of it's reputation and make me feel "good".
I boxed up the capris- which I always swear I hate and are a "fashion don't", but sport six months out of the year anyway, along with the tank tops and brilliant white linen pants ( and yes you CAN see my grundies, which is why I only pair them with very, very long shirts! ).
I chose only the most crucial of summer shorts ( for those days when my husband is working and he's not home so the heat gets cranked to 95 degrees ) to keep out and put the rest "in the bin" for storage.
And in other words things got organized.
But there is a box. A BIG box, sitting in my bedroom. Clearly, there is no room for it. It's too big for UNDER the bed, too big for IN my closet, and much TOO delicate for the garage.
It's my wedding dress.
And I don't know what the heck to DO with it.
I do recall spending a hundred bucks for a "special cleaning" that would "preserve it"- which you can't check, because if you pull it out of it's special plastic casing, you jack it up. Therefore you are forced to take the dry cleaners word for it... which surprisingly blows because despite all good things suburban,I must say the dry cleaning around here SUCKS.
Anyway- I don't know what to do with my wedding dress. Personally, I would be okay with selling it. I like to think I commemorate the day with memories, pictures, a ring... and then of course, my husband! But the people around me tell me it's something I should keep. Because someone may want to wear it one day.
I guess the way I see it is that someone could wear it tomorrow and I could get some money back on it.
But I have never been known to be the world's best decision maker on such things so feel forced to keep it. Sitting in a big box in the middle of my bedroom. For now. And it's driving me nuts, because things belong places. Things need to go "home". In my world, everything, weather it is there or not, should have a "home". Scissors go in that drawer, staples in THAT cabinet and by all means that calculator goes in THAT basket next to the laptop.... Got it?
I don't lead the kind of lifestyle in which I share my bedroom with a big box.
And so I wonder if other women save their dresses...or if they sell them, or give them away, or lost them in a fire or gave them to a friend. Or if it would be horrible to "fake-blood" it up and use if for a Halloween costume??