Girls and Hunting

Nice article by author and chef Georgia Pelligrini about being a girl and hunting:

In Roman mythology, the master of the hunt was the goddess Diana. She was praised for her strength, athletic grace, beauty, and hunting skills.

In Freemasonry, she was a symbol of sensibility and imagination, of poets and artists. Shrines were erected in her honor; stags followed her wherever she went; she ruled the forest and the moon.

I like to think that Diana’s influence has never entirely waned, that hunting was never just about men getting together in the woods. Hunting is for all of us, an extension of our being both humans and animals—our first work and craft, one of our original instincts.

Today I am entirely different than the girl and chef who set out four years ago to learn how to hunt a turkey. 

There are the obvious differences, such as the fact that I can shoot a deer through the heart without batting an eye, and then promptly take out the innards on the forest floor with only a pocketknife and my bare hands.

I can skin it and then run the knife along the contours of the muscle until it is broken down into manageable parts.

Then, if I want to, I can portion the meat into those elegant pieces we see neatly wrapped up in plastic in the grocery store meat section, with no signs that it was ever a living thing. Except that for me, I will always know.

I will have looked my food in the eye and made a choice; I will have felt the warm innards in my hands as I pulled them out and laid them on the forest floor for the coyotes and the mountain lions to eat.

It was a struggle to get here, mostly a mental struggle.

It required a slap on the ass and a horseback-riding escapade with a poacher.

It required humility, frustration, hundreds of skeptical looks, and waking up in the dark for most of the fall and winter months—all in the name of sausage, venison meat loaf, and whiskey-glazed turkey breast.

It required run-ins with airport security that wanted to know why there were frozen animal parts in my suitcase, and with border patrol dogs sniffing my car wildly where Texas meets Mexico.

But the journey over field and stream to understand where my food comes from was, simply put, amazing. Even the so-called bloody bits.

She sounds like the ideal woman.


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  • SHG

    In a similar vein:

  • EpochNZ

    Growing up in a small Sth Canterbury town, most of the girls I went to school with were farmers daughters who were more than proficient at shooting a rifle at a moving target (animal), so this is nothing new….

    • Travdog

      EpochNZ: out of curiosity, did you used to have a youtube account ‘t*******gheads’?

      • EpochNZ

         Unfortunately no, Trav….why, would it have been something to be proud of??

  • kehua

    Ah but can she also cut wood?