You know what that is. It's shorthand for those things we put off because, as Scarlett famously put it, "tomorrow is another day."
Well tomorrow has arrived. And with it, wild eyed archers who are stunned at what happened in their closets during the winter.
Women are planners. Men are doers. Women understand the concept of "everything in its place" while men often go with the "everything all over the place" system. I joke that the reason men get married is so that someone in the house knows where everything is...even with 30 seconds notice.
That, you see, is the drawback to the "doer" system. It sounds so spontaneous. Fun. Adventuresome. And it might be a workable system if those in the XY gene pool didn't decide to "do" a few hours before the actual event. This is the height of archery season for hubby. Bow Season begins Aug. 15th.
Yes, just days prior to the season's start, archers everywhere are just now venturing into their closets to hunt for their bows. What they find is often not pretty.
The other cliche "out of sight, out of mind" must pertain to this phenomenon as well. I'm sure some of these guys were no doubt surprised to discover their bow was not put away as gently as they'd imagined. No, they approach the closet recalling their hard working hunting or target shooting companion of five months, all shiny and ready for action. In reality, what they often find is something that looks as if it belongs to the Peanuts cartoon character Pigpen. The shine has often been replaced with a light coat of grime from sweaty palms and any number of outdoor matter they encountered. There might actually be a leaf or two in the bow case. Some will be horrified to discover that the dozen arrows they had at the beginning of the season has mysteriously dwindled to three, obviously having gone AWOL while tucked away in the closet. You can't really blame them, you know. Considering the um...aroma that bow cases can emit when Hunter Man forgets to put the lid back snugly on a bottle of lure is well, ghastly at best and at worst, has amnesia producing capabilities. Overwhelmed by what is suppose to be nature's perfume, these archers forget that most of those missing arrows are lying somewhere in the woods, deserted and abandoned because someone didn't take time for target practice. Between the aroma and amnesia, archers are often shocked speechless at how frayed their bow string has become.
That's when the wild excuses....I mean stories, begin on how a mouse on steroids invaded the air tight bow case to chew strings and dine on arrow feathers.
Hubby is a really laid back, helpful kind of guy. This week, the archers arrived en masse, bows thrust forward like alien creatures they don't recognize, their expressions portraits of shock. In some cases, they are close to tears. They want to go outside and play but their toy is broken. It is at this point that Hubby brings them back to reality with a dose of tough love. He doesn't have time to be laid back and he probably offers advice which sounds a lot like parental lecturing concerning taking care of your toys. His days get longer, a fact his back and knees like to point out isn't to their liking. I usually just stay out of the way and handle the books.
But now that they've begun calling the house at all hours of the day and night, [just how do they get that number as it's unlisted?!] I feel really bad for him. I had today off, so I turned that sympathy into something more substantial and spent the morning in the shop with him, prior to opening. I fear I am too quick a study for my own good and may be invited back for more lessons. I'm thinking what will save me is that I can't keep a straight face. You see, most of these product names fall between gruesome [if you're female] and so testosterone laced that well, if you're a female it makes you laugh hysterically. It is hard to fathom how many companies can add the word "BEST" to their product titles with a straight face. And the adjectives used to describe tough run the gamut from "monster" to "intimidator" to ones I won't even bother you with. My teeth grinding favorite in fact is that these companies are now aiming [pardon the pun] for a female market. Their new bow for ladies? "Passion".
There is only one company in the shop that sends a momentary chill down my spine...followed by hysterical laughter. As I said, I'm the bookkeeper and have to send checks to our vendors. Hey, I dare you to keep a straight face while writing a check to "Grim Reaper".
I kid you not.
Hubby said when calling to place an order, they cheerfully answer, "Grim Reaper!" He asked how many people freak out. The lady on the line laughed and said plenty, especially near Halloween.
I wonder if the guy who named that company picked such a moniker because it sounded intimidating...or if that's who his wife threatened to call when he tracked in enough of the outdoors to make the house look like the insides of a neglected bow case?