5.30 am and my husband drives off. What to do today… plenty of choices, making space some plants given to me by a neighbor, jam making, etc. etc. Then, at 7.00, he comes driving back in, hadn’t expected him for hours…
What brings him back? A dead roe deer, still a bit warm, a roadkill found by someone who thought he might have some use for it. He just has time to hook it up and let the blood out before he goes again. , so here I stand with this dead deer hanging. Okay…
I know how to take off the skin nicely, which goes well enough. I talk to the deer and wish it a good journey. Nice skin, no ticks, and into the freezer it goes. However, this takes not only physical but also mental energy. I’m happy enough that I can call my mother and tell her the story. She listens and says I might like to have a cup of coffee now, even though the morning has just begun.
Good idea, nice coffee. But now, what? I feel drained. I know how to disembowel it, to cut off and clean the legs for various uses, and more, but without help the tasks feel daunting, paralyzing. I say to myself that I may congratulate myself with what I have accomplished, and also that these feelings come naturally, but at the same time I feel frustrated because of not honoring the animal more. Struggles. And yes I know that if only I’d do this more often these things would become easier…
Just wanting to share some of my rewilding struggles. Thank you roe deer.