Today I saw a sign that said to me "Welcome to Northern Michigan". It was attached to the local fruit market and it said:
"Complete Deer Processing Done Here" (no of course I don't have a picture, I have not yet learned to keep my camera in my car to take advantage of such bloggable moments)
At first I thought, being the southeast MI girl that I am, now why would the deer need to be processed? It's not like you can OWN a deer like a pet or anything, they don't need licenses . . . oh . . . they mean processed, like bologna. Yikes.
Now I'm not getting on a soap box or anything, because I like meat just as much as the next carnivore, although I prefer to get my meat all nicely packaged and anonymous from grocery store. I'm just not a hunter. And here I am in the middle of hunting land. My husband keeps warning me that soon I will see dead bambis adorning the roofs of people's cars. I honestly don't know how I will deal with that.
And it's not just bambis. Some guy from my husband's work, got a bear license and killed himself a bear. He says they make pretty good jerky. Although he just got a little bear, supposedly the big ones are better meat. Surreal.
By the way, did you know if you google images of bears you get the most interesting content? Why? I don't understand. I've never called it a bear!