Nearly every weekend, once a month the shotgun goes bang and something falls over. He gets up at 5:00 and comes home at 9:00, showing off his hard work.
A few days later you hear Dad in the kitchen. The chopping board all marked, by not a kitchen knife but a sharp hunting knife, that is covered in blood. With the back steaks out he starts to prepare it with all sorts of things like mustard, sauce, and soy sauce.
Then he puts it in the pot its ready ten minutes later then, "Tea's ready!" He yells out the window.