I get a lot of raised eyebrows when I tell people I am a minister. Apparently I don't look like one. The same eyebrows raise and merge into the hairline when I say I am a minster who likes rock climbing, ice climbing and the like. Finally, even the worst comb-over hairdo is amply buffered by eyebrow when I say I am also a deer stalker, managing deer on a couple of estates. The line, "so you actually shoot them?" falls disbelievingly from mouths as if I had just confessed to serial polygamy. It makes for some exciting discussion, so I thought it might be interesting for a couple of you out there in cyberspace to have a peek at this minister's daily grind.

Firstly, here is my outlook. As a rock climber it is my playground, as an ice climber it is far too warm, as a deer manager it is the neighbour's estate, responsible for far too many yearlings running from here to trash my patch, and as a minister, it is a part of my parish and my mission field.

Let's face it, there are worse places in which to eke out a living. In the winter, it sometimes looks like this:

Which is rather nice. The rock climber in me retreats to the haven of the indoor climbing wall, the ice climber starts to sharpen his crampon points, and the minister tries to look ministerial as he puts on his warm camoflage jacket to go to church.

The deer manager looks for his extra set of merino wool gear and prepares for the long sits on the cold, bone hard ground, and the difficult and I think, sometimes unpleasant task of the doe cull.

The hairy guy in the picture is me. the very hairy guy is my German Wire-Haired Pointer pup, Gunnar. More of the lads later...