Does she take off her apron, freshen her lipstick and grab her best dress coat and bonnet?
Oh, no . . . ’tis no time for fussing.
She tames the flame under the pot of soup, leaving it to sulk in a slow simmer, grabs her camera, slips into her yellow rain slicker, phones the infamous Antler Man at work in the adjacent barn, and charges out the door to chronicle the event.
The Antler Man gathers hunting tools for the resident cook.
There are measured steps in deer stalking,
and a few unexpected snags,