Being much of a tomboy growing up on our farm in Door County my father figured that I was probably the only thing close to a son that he might ever have. He had always wanted a son but 5 tries and no luck. Now surrounded by girls aging from 19 to 7 he hoped that I might be a good substitute so he always encouraged my tomboyish behavior.
             At the age of 14 I was at the peak of my tomboyish nature. In fact when I grew up I either wanted to be a Boy or a Dog. Spending most days in my backyard, which was 40 aches of orchard, climbing trees or hunting small birds with the BB gun my father had bought me. If I wasn't in the orchard I was down by my father's dock fishing. When night came I may stay inside to build forts in my basement out of my mother sheets and pretend it was some sort of cave or light small fires in the fire pit right behind the house and imagine I was trying to survive in the wilderness.
             My father supplied all the needed necessities in order for me to stay a tomboy. He bought me 3 guns, a BB gun, a 22 cal. Riffle, and a 12-gage shotgun. He bought me fishing poles, tackle, tackle boxes, and all the best bait. He took me to football games and basketball games. He made me watch Rambo and Conan the Barbarian with him until I invited the local boys over to play army in the orchard. So when the time for me to go hunting with him came along he jumped on the opportunity.
             I attended hunter safety and graduated with flying colors. My father was so proud and couldn't wait to take me hunting. I was excited too, being able to go with my father to his stand which was equipped with four walls and a roof, a large heater, comfy chairs to sit in while waiting for unsuspecting deer, snack food galore, and of course my father. That year he had been rather busy and I was starting to miss the closeness between us, that is why I agreed to go hunting was so that we might have some bonding time.
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