We Eat Squirrel

Okay, so technically when I say we, I mean my hubby and kids.  For real.  Squirrel.  As in, the cute, little bushy-tailed creatures running around in your back yard right at this moment.

The upshot of marrying a hunter/survival guy is that when it's the end of the world, which appears to be happening sooner rather than later, my family will still be able to survive, because my hubs will go out and catch our food for us.  As opposed to all of those living in places like NYC who depend on a grocery store for their food.  They will perish quickly if I had to guess.  But not us, no way, not the Nelsons.  We will survive and prosper on things like squirrel.

Here's the thing.  It is supposed to be extremely good tasting, even a delicacy.  And I hate to admit it, but it did smell good cooking in my over.  But I couldn't get passed the fact that it is squirrel.  I happen to think that squirrels are quite cute looking.  In that sweet, Disney type way.  But I could.not.eat.it.  We have also had, what I lovingly refer to as: Backyard Bunny Chili.  I will leave it up to you to figure out that one.

Now I suppose if it really was the end of the world I would eat that baby right up.  But since it isn't yet, I think I will take a pass for the time being, although I won't write it off in the future.  I am actually at this moment taking an on-line hunter safety training course so I can go deer hunting this fall.  So you never know what may happen to me.