Ladies, this one's for you.

The camper's gone. The guns are gone. The giddy, gear-laden husband's gone.

It's hunting season in Wyoming and you're all alone. Well, except for that six-point elk watching over you while you watch your television programs. And Dennis the Deer in the den.

No sob stories now. Wyoming women are tough. Independent. Party animals?

Perhaps. If that's your fancy.

In this season of singleness, hunting widows rule their house, their time, their activities. Love to knit? Make a dozen sweaters. Tidy up. Go out with the girls.

With a positive attitude, sending your man into the wilderness for weeks on end doesn't have to lead to misery. Several seasoned hunting widows have shared their stories, advice and encouragement and hope all ladies left behind will take heart - and have some fun - this season and the many, many more to come.

Saying 'I do' to Mr. Right and his .22

It must have been true love for Will Pfennig. An avid hunter before he tied the knot, he sold his only rifle to purchase Alberta Pfennig's wedding ring.

"He thought he wouldn't hunt," Alberta said recently with a slight chuckle. He made it a year before the wilderness called him back and Alberta joined the ranks of Wyoming women holding down the fort September through November - or longer.

"I don't have any resentment with him hunting," she said. "He loves it, and it's good for him. It makes for a better situation if we can just find a happy medium."

Compromise, a little give and take, is a necessity, each hunting widow said. And preferably not the "He spent a $1,000, so I'll spend a $1,000" kind, Alberta said.

Lu Hart's husband, John, hunts, fishes and birds more than 100 days a year. He chose to retire in Wyoming after 33 years as a professor in Michigan because of Cheyenne's smalltown feel - and it's proximity to great hunting.

And that's just fine with Lu.

"When he leaves, I go right into widow mode," she said.

Of course, when she received a wild game cookbook her first birthday after getting married, Lu realized hunting was part of the package and embraced it. She stays up late. She volunteers. She makes all the foods John doesn't like, such as her favorite coconut bread. She sleeps in, even though when she was engaged her future mother-in-law said she'd have to get up early, cook John's breakfast, do this and do that.

"It isn't true. He gets his own," Lu said. "Don't get me wrong. I miss his company, his conversation, his help and his opinions. I just postpone those things until he gets back."

'For better, for worse'

Some things can't be postponed. Like surgery for a broken ankle.

Two years ago, Cheryl Brown, one of several hunting widows in Lu's neighborhood near Curt Gowdy State Park, was tidying up the morning after a jewelry party with her girlfriends. On her way downstairs, she slipped on some frozen steps, broke her ankle and landed at the bottom. Doug was hunting. She was alone.

So, like any tough Wyoming woman would have, she crawled up the stairs, got dressed, put on her makeup, fed the dogs and drove herself 25 miles into Cheyenne's hospital. She called Doug's cell phone, left a few frantic messages, then went into surgery.

The next day, in less pain and a better state of mind, she accessed Doug's voicemail account and calmly erased her frantic messages. Keep hunting and have a good time, she told him.

"Yep. Everything always goes wrong when they're gone," said Chris Caltagirone, another widow in Lu and Cheryl's neighborhood. The child gets sick. The plumbing freezes or leaks or stinks. The furnace explodes.

"You learn to call people," Chris said.

You lean on fellow widows.

"It's great for the guys to get out and do something they love," Cheryl said. "How could you stop them from doing that, you know?" Besides, Cheryl said, in the 24 years she's been married, absence really does make the heart grow fonder.

"You need time apart. It's good, especially if you trust each other. Then you can come together and love each other all the more."

When he's gone

So, now it's just you and Dennis the Deer. You know time apart is good. But what to do with it all?

"Everybody needs time for themselves," Chris said. "I look at it as a break for me, as just my time."

Though "Me time" looks different for everybody, each widow agreed keeping a positive attitude and staying busy is key.

"Make a list of the advantages of your husband being away," Lu said. "Then take advantage of the positive elements."

A few suggestions:

-Sew, quilt, knit, paint, write, scrapbook, do puzzles - whatever your hobby may be - free of classic interruptions like, "Honey, where's the snowblower manual?" or "Do we have Elmer's glue? Where? In the desk? I can't find it."

-If you have no hobbies, find some.

-Run errands you know he hates being dragged around to do.

-Read. Get lost in the library.

-Walk, run, bicycle, do those Pilates moves that make him laugh.

-Clean house. "It is such a joy to have a tidy house while he is away," Lu said. "Every time I come into the house or walk through it, I luxuriate in the neatness which simply does not exist while he is in residence."

-Get together with the girls. The neighborhood of hunting widows near Cheyenne goes shopping in Fort Collins, holds jewelry parties, cooks gourmet meals and generally lives it up. Old friends visit and slumber parties ensue.

-Visit the kids and grandkids.

-If the kids are still at home, plan activities with other young mothers. Play. Get the kids out and about, Chris said. Litter the house with Thanksgiving and Christmas crafts.

-Join a club.

-Visit the sick.

-Volunteer. Lu plays her harp at the bedside of sick and dying people. Chris works with the Women's Civic League and is the director of Cheyenne's Cowgirls of the West Museum. Several help at church.

-Simply enjoy the solitude. "Some days I like to just stay home and move the dust around, you know," said Nina Ewart, of Casper. She's been married to a hunter for 53 years. She probably knows what she's talking about.

"Hunting and fishing is the Wyoming way of life," Nina said. "Being married to a man isn't living with him 24 hours a day. You have to have your own life. I miss him when he's gone, but it's great just knowing he is coming home."