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OUTDOOR TRUTHS
After several days on the road, I’m glad to be home for a few days. I’ve recently visited outdoorsmen in Ohio, Alabama, Georgia, and Wisconsin, and have yet to feel out of place in any location. We all may have a little different accent, but we all love to pursue wild animals and fish. In Wisconsin I took my first snowmobile ride and my first trip across the lake in a truck. I still prefer boats, but my guide assured me the ice would be thick enough to manage the insignificant weight of our pickup. It was very worthwhile to experience these new ways of enjoying the outdoors.
Even though I enjoy my travels, I still love the place that I call home. My little piece of the country has its own special characteristics, but that’s not the reason I call it home. It’s not home because what is there, but because who is there.
When each of us thinks of home, we are ultimately reminded of our family and our closest friends. And even though I really like sleeping in my own bed verses all of those hotel beds; what really gives me a peaceful sleep is knowing that I am lying with one that has been my partner for thirty years this month. When the preacher joined us together, he tied a knot that has slipped a few times, but has never come undone. He reminded us that sometimes love and commitment will work hand in hand and other times each will stand on its own. He was right. He admonished us to fight clean and fair, to strive to not hurt one another with our words, and to never use the “D” word. We have tried to do these things as well even though my wife reminds me that he never said anything about the “M” word – Murder.
All in all, home will never be a place; it will always be a person. That doesn’t mean that I don’t want the conveniences of my own house, I like them as well. But it simply means that no matter how many surveys I fill out concerning my recent stay at a certain hotel, they will never get the highest score unless I’m sharing one of their rooms with my wife.
Gary Miller gary@outdoortruths.org

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