growing up

The Boy and his dinner

Time moves forward and at a speed I am not always ready for. Seemingly yesterday I was taking pictures of my son with other people's deer and now he is filling our freezer himself.  At Thirteen He is close to two inches taller than me and smart as a whip. While I am extremely proud of him, this jarringly sudden maturation has caused me to think a lot about my job of raising him. I won't use this time to critique my parenting skills but I will say that I have became aware of the precious small amount of time that I have to shape my children. When we are at home there are so many distractions and influences pulling at my children that it is difficult to compete. That is why I think hunting and fishing (I'll add trapping) is actually a great parenting tool. Don't get me wrong, while in the field we are focusing on many things,  but we are together and there is no one else around and usually a lack of cellular data. I have found that a deeper connection occurs in the woods then at home and it allows me to really confer life lessons in more effective ways. I also believe that the work that is going on is so honest and real that it helps to develop a good ethic in a kid. Plus there are so many ethics involved in killing an animal that I also believe it delivers life lessons in a way that is hard for a kid to just shrug off. I am not going to lie I see some young people that I have very little respect for and I believe it to be tied to the amount of time spent on video games compared to time spent in the real world. I define the real world as any activity out in the world not just hunting and I think all work and play has value but hunting and fishing combines all elements from preparation and hard work to excitement and accomplishment. If you want to raise a man who is responsible, resilient, respectful, and resourceful you should raise him outside. Your pal the Envirocapitalist.

Hunting Generations



My son posing with a deer my father killed in 2012


     November Means Muzzle loader season here in Tennessee. The cool to cold days lead hunters into the woods in force to see if the added range of a muzzle loader and the wild abandon of the rut can produce better results than the warm, sweaty, buggy bow season did. I am no different, I never miss the first chance to sling lead at my favorite table fare. Recently my son who is ten years old has been making the yearly pilgrimage to Middle Tennessee with my father and I to hunt. To have three generations of hunters in the woods has truly been a blessing from the All Mighty. Back in 2012 My father was able to take a nice eight pointer and share the experience with his son and grandson. I can not think of anything better than the old man seeing his son whom he shared the gift of the outdoors with pass it on down the line. This year My son Ryan and I took two deer from a blind strategically hid on a ridge overlooking a small grove of white oaks. Ryan was able to not only witness the very sobering taking of life when the deer were shot but also all the work that went on afterward. We dressed the deer and drug them out. Later we skinned, quartered, butchered and ground the two deer into food. What better education could a young man receive and what better reassurance could a grandfather receive but to see his son teaching his children proper living. Tonight we said grace over the deer that we came by honestly and as I watched my family eating I was overcome with a sense of how real life can be if you live it. While I feel closer to Thoreau when I am experiencing the fruits of my own labor instead of that of others, I feel closer to God when I share the lessons with my son, Your pal the Envirocapitalist.