Eat More Venison

Twenty-four hours after seeing these pictures, Meta Cranky thinks she can write about them in language fit for a family blog. The trees that the Crankies coaxed through a summer-long drought have been abused by Bambi and the rest of his sorry extended family. This one might be the Princeton Elm that Jamie got at the fancy native tree nursery in Clinton:


Uncle M sent more evidence, but I can't post another one. They're like tree snuff pictures.

We screwed up. We trusted them. They're have those big eyes and tails that bounce on their asses when they jump. Their babies are all spotted and Disney-licious, and we really didn't need all those peas they ate on the hill summer before last.

Those days are so over. The Crankies are unleashing Shiva, the God of Death. They will be asking Cousin Tom if he would like to come over to hunt. Here's a tasty idea: Venison Chops with Blackberry Compote. Yum. Can't wait.

When MC thinks about Cousin Tom's love of hunting, she harkens back to Vera Carp, the gun-shop owner in the play Greater Tuna whose motto is, "If we can't kill it, it's immortal." Tom's welding shop serves as a deer check-in station and during hunting season, the place looks like a white-tailed apocalypse. That's the feel MC would like to have at Cranky Girls' Farm this fall: Apocalypse Now for Bambi.

Hmm. This one sounds hearty and satifying: Venison Chili with Snowcap Beans. Just what I'd like to tuck into after bringing down my 10-point buck and his extended family. Au revoir, les enfants! Looking toward the high holidays, would Medallions of Venison with Port and Cranberries be too fussy? We think not.

The deer are in league with another thuggy vandal species: their friends the armadillos. Here, they've comprehensively churned the area around the compost pile:

The phrase "fine armadillo dining" might seem like a contradiction in terms to some, but consider that Anthony Bourdain made a television career out of eating dishes like unwashed warthog rectum in Namibia and sheep testicles in Morocco. Anyone for Cajun Armadillo in Mustard Sauce?

It's not as if the two-legged carnivores should have to be eating all this deer flesh. In the recent past, MC has seen a coyote and a bobcat within shouting distance of the front porch. And then last summer, a Yorkshire visitor sighted a cat-like animal with a very long tail by our bridge. We're thinking mountain lion. These animals are predators, right? So WTF? I'm thinking that maybe, for Mrs. Bobcat, Cranky Girls' Farm is like the buffet at Golden Corral, with its overwhelming display of questionable food choices. The coyotes are trying, but there's only so much venison they can fit on their plates.

So where do I get my membership for the Powder and String Club?
--MCG