Walking Lizzy on the first day of hunting season

As someone who prides herself in looking "espic espan," as my grand-aunt would say in Spanish, in all of my professional endeavors, I was glad no one (except my poor husband) could see me this morning as I set off into the nearby trails with Lizzy.

It's the first day of deer gun-hunting season (sunrise to sunset) and my small college on the hill issued an e-mail alert that anyone walking its trails should wear bright clothing and stay away from areas where hunters might be shooting.

It turned out that my favorite trail abuts an area that hunters have used in the past, so we had to content ourselves with the muddy low-land areas. The bright clothing recommendation was initially a quandary since most of my cold-weather outerwear is black, but my husband recommended wearing an orange T-shirt over my parka. Problem solved.

Still, that meant that I looked like an obese female version of the Michelin Man. My husband also chuckled when, on top of that unattractive get-up, I donned my leopard-print rain boots and my black winter cap. No, I wouldn't have won any "best-dressed" awards this morning. And I surely didn't look my best, but at least I felt a little safer as Lizzy and I embarked on our walk with the faraway shots exploding through the cold morning air.