Mrs. Fin subscribes to the notion about taxidermy and skulls to be something like, "That might be art in your family, but in my family it is just another dead animal!"
So when we built our new house, I was granted the east half of the upstairs, which is known as the Randy Room. Well, six years later, I am pretty much out of space.
I have been trying to occupy other places in the house and now have laid claim to the "reading area" at the top of the stairway, where my two pronghorn pedestal mounts reside. This is progress, even if it is slow progress.
Now for the connection to this story
Bugler was nice enough to do a Euro on the pronghorn I shot when he and I were archery hunting in New Mexico last August. I picked it up from him at the Expo in SLC in February. Since then, it has been sitting in a rather conspicuous place, hoping the wife would get accustomed to its presence and I could claim some more turf for taxidermy.
Mysteriously, it falls and fractures in to many pieces. I am appalled. I look at her and she is giving that sly, thinly veiled look of surprise, similar to the movie Christmas Story, when Ralphie's dad has the "leg lamp" in the window and it conveniently falls and is smashed to small pieces.
I try to blame someone, but to no avail. Mrs. Fin walks over to inspect the carnage and gives the "Hmmph, that's too bad" look that only a husband really can accurately interpret.
She has two tubes of crazy glue on the counter when I come home from work today. With a smirk on her face, she hands them to me and says, "Thought you might need these."
Not deterred, I break out the crazy glue and apply in large doses. If my typing is bad, it is because my left thumb and index finger have not yet separated. A few pieces are still left after my repair, but such is life. No way to get those back in there now.
I think the billy goat is going to have to move, if I shoot any more pronghorn that I feel like doing a Euro with. I have four other nice ones out in the shop, but have not really done them up very good, so they will stay out in the shop.
I need to get this wall filled out with the pronghorns I hope to shoot this fall.
All's well that ends well.
So when we built our new house, I was granted the east half of the upstairs, which is known as the Randy Room. Well, six years later, I am pretty much out of space.
I have been trying to occupy other places in the house and now have laid claim to the "reading area" at the top of the stairway, where my two pronghorn pedestal mounts reside. This is progress, even if it is slow progress.
Now for the connection to this story
Bugler was nice enough to do a Euro on the pronghorn I shot when he and I were archery hunting in New Mexico last August. I picked it up from him at the Expo in SLC in February. Since then, it has been sitting in a rather conspicuous place, hoping the wife would get accustomed to its presence and I could claim some more turf for taxidermy.
Mysteriously, it falls and fractures in to many pieces. I am appalled. I look at her and she is giving that sly, thinly veiled look of surprise, similar to the movie Christmas Story, when Ralphie's dad has the "leg lamp" in the window and it conveniently falls and is smashed to small pieces.
I try to blame someone, but to no avail. Mrs. Fin walks over to inspect the carnage and gives the "Hmmph, that's too bad" look that only a husband really can accurately interpret.
She has two tubes of crazy glue on the counter when I come home from work today. With a smirk on her face, she hands them to me and says, "Thought you might need these."
Not deterred, I break out the crazy glue and apply in large doses. If my typing is bad, it is because my left thumb and index finger have not yet separated. A few pieces are still left after my repair, but such is life. No way to get those back in there now.
I think the billy goat is going to have to move, if I shoot any more pronghorn that I feel like doing a Euro with. I have four other nice ones out in the shop, but have not really done them up very good, so they will stay out in the shop.
I need to get this wall filled out with the pronghorns I hope to shoot this fall.
All's well that ends well.
