“It will be something we can do together,” he replied. It occurred to me that we did pretty much everything together already. In fact, hunting was the only thing he did without me. Hunting season was a time when I could have a weekend alone. I looked forward to it. I watched the Lifetime Channel, soaked in the tub, didn’t cook. What possessed me to want to give that up?
But anyway, I got my husband’s old compound bow and some arrows from the cellar and began practicing. Each night after work, I shot at least 50 arrows into a little square target. Soon, one of my nephews set up a 3D target on the lawn. Although he had a fancy bow and new carbon arrows, I was as good as he was despite my old equipment.
Encouraged, I signed up for a local bowhunting course. Although I was nervous about being the only female in the class, my husband assured me that plenty of other women would be there. Wrong! I arrived to find that I was the only woman among 45 men and boys. The instructor kept forgetting my name. I was the only woman taking the course! How could he forget my name? At any rate, I breezed through the written test, and then came the time for the practical. About a dozen men had finished shooting when the instructor said, “Now I’m going to give you boys some competition; let’s get the girl up here.”