I have a love/hate relationship with my freezer. It just haunts me. I must admit it is a January thing...do projects you have put off, start over, clean out certain places...

I really love my freezer when I don’t want to cook and pull something out and thaw it. But in the bowels of that large white box, there are things that outlived :freezer life” and need to be disposed of. And, of course, there are those sentimental things that have been saved...the top of the wedding cake, the frozen, little jar of breast milk, and doves Thomas shot. I had to throw in that last one since it has caused quite a stir in our family.

I know you folks who hunt are really going to be angry with me. To my defense, I was raised on seafood and grocery store meat. When I moved here I was invited to William Gamewell Smith’s Egg House to feast on wild rabbit stew and Mississippi turkey necks. I just knew Marlin Perkins was going to walk into the Egg House any minute. You had animal parts on your belts, around your neck, and dangling from your ears. Where I am from, folks wear little, quaint charms of sailfish, golden sand-dollar earrings or belts with a Blue Marlin on the fabric. Please understand, I believe there is absolutely nothing wrong with celebrating your uniqueness. In fact, I have made a career out of it.

I have to admit the Egg House inspired me. I went back to our little pond house and cooked a Canadian goose...for three days and three nights. I remember vividly that goose neck hanging out of the pot and dripping nasty stuff on my stove top. After three days I decided to barbecue it. As I began pulling the meat I realized it was the bone (for some of you, jewelry) then I realized after breaking two fingernails that is was actually the meat and not the bone. Well we invited Joe Ben and Martha to eat supper and Joe Ben just loved every bite. Frankly, I did not care if the President of the United States ate supper with us. That did it for me; no more.

All of this to say Thomas decided to clean out our freezer. He is just (at present while reading this) learning that I have been sneaking food out and throwing it away since August. (Sorry, Honey.)

Well, bless his heart, Thomas found things in the freezer dating back to 1987. Food was in that freezer older than our children. I felt bad until my niece’s boyfriend told me that they had a pet skunk in their freezer for five years. It bit his mother and the skunk died. They put it in the freezer to check for rabies, and just forgot about it. Don’t get any ideas, William Gamewall!

Thomas was pretty rough on me. He said he found a new hiding place if he wanted to keep something from me... blah, blah, blah...

As Thomas filled the third, huge trash can of frozen birds he had “lovingly picked to provide nourishment for the family he loved” I knew to get the “heck outta Dodge.” Covered with freezer frost and freezer tape, Thomas looked at me and asked the final question, “Do you know what these birds would say if they could talk?” I just nodded my head, “No.” “They would say,” he continued, “We died for nothing.”

Well the good news is that the freezer is clean, the dogs are thrilled and Thomas can start over hunting, shooting, picking and preserving. As for me, I will not change and don;t have to worry about it until the year 2024.