Ollin Magnetic Digiscoping System

Interesting Prompt For Discussion - Deer Butchering in Public

Being a good neighbor is a virtue, and yet, if you've never been an asshole to a neighbor that needed exposure to one you're missing out.


It's this stress - this pull between love and understanding for your fellow man and neighbors colliding with a deep and chronic misanthropy. It tests the the tensile strength of the human soul. I often feel the shear myself.

Ultimately, I would wager this article speaks less about what a good neighbor is or what the bellyaching of a sissy looks like , but rather, how first world privilege detaches people from shit they should care about.

If neither aint an answer on offer and you are being serious, who would you rather have a beer with? The guy with a deer hanging in his front yard, or the one whining about it. I have lots of friends who would engage in the former, none, in the latter.
 
i mean i can't help but read this and wonder who is actually triggered by all this?

i don't give a shit nor am bothered about what he did, where he did it, or why he did it. what matters and all i care about is that it made the news.

there's some reason it made the news and it's probably because that guy is an asshole.

there is a difference between not giving an inch and lighting the yard stick on fire.
🤣🤣 ok.
 
I don't know or care about the particular debate, but if I was a school teacher across the road, I'd be teaching biology and I would see this a great opportunity for a short field trip across the street.
I hung a deer in my front yard and butchered it once in Tucson. I, also, did not have a garage or a tree in the backyard.
 
I don't know or care about the particular debate, but if I was a school teacher across the road, I'd be teaching biology and I would see this a great opportunity for a short field trip across the street.
I hung a deer in my front yard and butchered it once in Tucson. I, also, did not have a garage or a tree in the backyard.
Our ag II kids get a science credit. And that’s exactly what they do when an animal is butchered. Spread the parts out on the table and floor and learn about them.
 
@wllm @TOGIE @MtnElk
At what age will you sit your children down to have “the talk” about where meat comes from?
Its funny, because I had this whole thing typed out yesterday that addressed this and then deleted it.

My 8 year old knows where meat comes from and has seen me bring home big hunks of meat from the butcher and watched me carve it into consumable pieces. THAT SAID, I know my daughter well enough to know that if I involuntarily exposed her to a whole carcass and started butchering it, that would be scarring for her at this point in life. I think there is a difference between educating a child on where food actually comes from and then taking the next step of visually demonstrating - at at time when they might not be ready.

My wife is much the same... she is well aware of where everything comes from and is genuinely excited to help butcher that animal - but has expressly stated that she doesn't want to be part of the initial cuts and dissection, and I can respect that.
 
@wllm @TOGIE @MtnElk
At what age will you sit your children down to have “the talk” about where meat comes from?

at least in my mind right now, who knows, i haven't raised my child yet, i'm basically just feeding a little whiny mushroom. so, what do i know about raising kids yet?

but, i feel like it's not really a talk to be had. they'll be growing up in a hunting household and will be seeing the stuff from the beginning and remembering it as soon as they form memories.

"oh son, we're not having deer or elk tonight, this is cow" seems to be the extent of that talk in my mind. if they ask questions they ask questions.

i suspect my kids will have a more rounded understanding of the world as a result. they can decide if they like it or not.

not my problem or place to give a chit about my neighbors kids tho and if they have the same understanding.
 
@wllm @TOGIE @MtnElk
At what age will you sit your children down to have “the talk” about where meat comes from?
I showed my 2 year old nephew how to smack a salmon in the head this summer... and we cut it up in front of him.

I imagine life/death conversations are ongoing and slowly shift as kids mature, totally kid dependent. Plan on having my kiddo out in the field from day one.

Not sure where will end up for our kids K-12 years, I think the easy conversation is "where food comes from". The more difficult one will be what is appropriate to share with your classmates and teachers... as that's arbitrary/case dependent. In all honesty though less worried about "we hunt" so much as firearms.
 
i used to do euros from start to finish in the spare bathroom of an apartment we lived in.

i processed a handful of deer and antelope on the counters in that like 100 sqaure foot kitchen.

this is the first year in 12 or 13 i've had a garage.
That's cool man, I don't think my wife would be happy if I used my pressure washer in the bathroom. Maybe if a taped it up like dexter
 
I’ve never pressure washed euro actually
I used to spend a couple hours using forceps and a knife and other little tools, but a pressure washer takes 20 minutes and it's done. If a neighbor came to me and really had a problem with anything I do in my yard I would try and make a compromise, but so far all my neighbors all cool and I actually met a good buddy because he stopped to check out what I was doing when I was fleshing a elk hide.
 
Now I'm truly concerned, apparently some of you have had children.

Butchered an archery doe in a frat basement at 3am once (we waited for the drunk chics to thin out a bit). Didn't wait long enough as 4-5 days later came the knock on the door from the green gestapo. Full bore anal exam from license/tag/frozen meat even the mandatory harvest report card (within 5 days or a $5 fine). The crowning jewel was the asshole went out to the garbage can and dumped out the hide/trimmings on the sidewalk, it was late September and at 85-90 degrees it was VERY rank and squirmy. After seeing the unmistakable X of a bear razor head over the heart area he stomped off and left the gooey squirming maggot pile for me to place back in the can.

As per usual the squirrel was pure as the driven snow but never did figure out which drunk chic dropped a dime.
 
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