Friday, September 30, 2011


The man and his sister when they were little.

The man's phone rings.
We are in the market of all places...
so I whip a mechanical pencil out of my purse and an old receipt to write on.
I am prepared to take down any important information.
But he nods as he tells whoever he is talking to that he is familiar with the place...
and hangs up.

It's a job.
I can tell its a job.
Its about freaking time!

But its not just any job.
It is his idea of a dream job...
The place he recently told me that he would truly like to work at if he could choose.

I can't understand why he is not leaping and hopping for joy.
Then he says
"Baby, you know what this means don't you?
When everyone else is leaving to go hunting...
I'll be working."

There it is.

"I'm sorry I'm letting you down."

He's not worrying about him missing the first day of hunting.
He's worried about ME missing the first day of hunting season.
He thinks I am disappointed.


It's a job.
The most important thing that either of us need.
Happiness is a warm paycheck!

He apologised for letting me down.
But I don't feel let down.
I feel elated and relieved.
And happy for him.

Its not the only day in hunting season.
Its just the opening day.
Once he is used to his new schedule,
there will be Sundays when he can hunt.
So we hunt one day a week instead of two.
Clearly I don't have hunter's fever.
I am happy under the circumstances to wait.
What I don't want to do is go without him, even though Todd would happily take me.

There is one icky thing about the job.
It's graveyard shift.

I walked him out to the truck and we said  good-byes
until morning...
and I immediately made sure the house was locked up tight.

I am a big chicken.
I am glad that I have Roxy here to keep me company and safe.
The only problem is that she gave up on me hours ago and went to bed.
So much for company.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011


Watch out Elmer Fudd!
Silly's got a gun.
Never in my wildest imagination would I have ever considered buying a gun.
That was before I met the man and got hooked on shooting.
Never in my wildest imagination would I have seen myself out in the woods hunting.
That also was before I met the man, who hunts.
Here are some facts to consider.
1) I have a thing about being in the great outdoors alone...
a panic attack inducing sort of thing.
2) I'm 56 years old for goodness sakes!  What an odd time of life to take up such a thing.
3) Its one thing to shot vicious cans, bottles and targets...
quite another to blow Bambi's dad away.
Yet there I was yesterday in Cabela's buying a rifle for myself.
I don't have the words to tell you how odd that felt...
taking the rifle in my arms and trying to point it not in the direction of any of the staff and shoppers crowding to get what they needed for hunting season's opening day this Saturday.
I couldn't help but wonder what other people thought of old grandma over there
checking out the rifles.

I swear I heard snickers...
Hey! I do have a gun you know!
Tone down the giggles...
I might be a silly old rabbit... but a lot of you Fudds have been blowing my kindred away.
(Actually, I got a case of the giggles myself.)

And it was so very weird to be finger printed and filling out forms for the State Police
background check... that had nothing what so ever to do with working with children.
Or waiting for them to approve me.

Weirder and weirder...
to be walked outside with my rifle.

Holy crap!
Fortunately the nice man suggested that I get a "youth rifle".
Don't let that fool you... it will still bring down a good sized buck.
It's just that the silly rabbit here is short
and not exactly a circus strong man.

Then I was home with it... out of the box...
where I could aim at things in my back yard and play around.
No worries, I have not loaded it yet.
I showed it off to my neighbor, a nice lady who hunts
and she made nice appropriate noises.
I showed it to Todd, who hunts,
when he came over to work in our shop.

Then there we were... Todd, the man and I...
bent over a map of where we will be hunting...
making our battle plan.
It felt scary and dreamy at the same time.

I made noise about my phobia about being in the woods alone.
We all take a separate area for safety reasons.
There are quick elevation changes that help keep us out of the line of fire.
Todd assured me that he would be close enough to hear me scream...
and they would all be there if I needed help.
I will have a radio.
I will also have a special something in my pocket that does not have a trigger to catch on my clothing if I need to pull it out.
I fear bears and cougars.
I have never faced a cougar, but I have faced a hungry bear.
I was impressed that I did not pee my pants, but don't want to repeat that.
Mostly, I fear being alone in the middle of no where.

I am excited, nervous and a bit scared.
Mostly excited.
Today we go to have my sight aligned correctly.
I've never done this before.
I will get to shoot my rifle for the first time.
Those are not words I ever imagined writing.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011


Welcome to another Sat. Scavenger Shots!
Our word this week is 
I chose the updated version of the good old telephone...
because there's just so many ways you can communicate on it.
Make a simple phone call.
Send and receive texts!
We do this a lot.
You can even send a visual communication.
A pic does say a thousand words.
Other happy communications on this vehicle include;
social networking and other search or online apps.
If you are one of the lucky ones who have a GPS system on your phone...
it can even communicate where you need to go!
Communication at your fingertips.
I don't know about you, but I would be lost without mine.
Actually, since I do not have a GPS...
I am often lost with mine...
which is great because I can call if I need help!


Before I knew that Squeaky was coming for a visit,
we had made plans to go to a Duck away game party.
My MIL also informed us that she had met a wood carver that she
wanted me to meet and had arranged to go to his home/ work shop
on Sunday.

Squeaky is not what you would call a social animal.
He's more of the modern computer nerd version of a hermit.
Since he left school a couple of years ago,
his social life changed greatly.
Most of his contacts are online as the kids in DPH tend to get out of town as fast as they can after graduation to begin adult lives or go to school.
If he sees humans, its mostly family.
Upon his arrival I asked if he would be comfortable with going to the game party.
He gave the expected response.
Not really.
This surprised the man who thought that food, if nothing else would draw a kid to a party.
But Squeaky has food issues and rules and none of those that would be offered are foods that he can eat.
He's also not a people person and shy.

But he said he would be fine alone in the house.

I called my MIL and asked if we could postpone the visit to the wood carver's.
She saw no reason for this at all... there was enough room in the car and
the boy would enjoy seeing the guy's work... 
so no, she would not call and try to arrange another day.
She is under the delusion that I will become a successful... as in money making... wood carver.
Its what she would like me to do.
I would like to carve for the pleasure of carving.
Once money is involved, it ceases to be fun and becomes work.
I do not share the delusion.

I was a bit frustrated here.
This is my youngest son, who I no longer see very often.
I was only going to have him for two days and both days
had events that I felt were not as important as visiting with my son.
He did not take a bus all the way here to go to other people's homes where he would feel uncomfortable.
He came to visit me.

So I opted out of the game party.
That gave me an evening alone with my son to visit and enjoy.
Besides, I knew that Todd would understand.
Family is at the top of his list too.
Off the man went to enjoy the party.

Squeaky and I had a fabulous time.
He loves a particular Quiznos sandwich, so we got those for our meal.
I was just about to bite into mine, when he said he had something that he wanted me to see and give my opinion on.
He pulled a folded piece of paper from his wallet and handed it to me.
It was a prolog.
Squeaky is writing a book!

I read it and then the first chapter of his book.
Squeaky was good in language arts in school.
Very good.
He wrote his first chapter book in 4th grade.
His teacher took me aside at the time and told me that he had 
what she considered a real talent for writing that should be developed.
That was the path his education took.
But about a year before graduation, he stopped talking about writing for a living and began to worry about a real career.
He didn't want to go into technical writing or journalism.

Its his life.
I assumed that he had moved on from that dream.
I won't tell you what the book is about or give quotes.
That's his baby.
But I will tell you this.
I was impressed by his writing...
far and away much better than my drivel, well paced, well thought out.
His wording is clever and often surprising.

We discussed his work.
I made some minor suggestions... because I am not the writer that he is.
Then we talked about a plot issue he had concerning the second chapter.
We talked about characters traits and habits.
We bounced ideas off each other.
I think it is one of the most sublime times I have ever spent with this boy.
I'm so glad that I stayed home and did not miss it.

Its funny how we make assumptions about our children...
who or what they will be.
Squeaky has said from kindergarten that he wanted to be a writer.
I even have a paper he did where he wrote that then.
I don't know why the idea that he would write left my head,
but it did.

I should have had a clue when I saw his college classes.
All are language arts classes that will involve much writing in various forms.
But it did not ring a bell in my dull brain.
This came to me as a very happy surprise.

I know... we all think our kids are special and talented.
I write for fun and am no great writer.
But I am an avid reader and I have seen good, bad and wonderful
Squeaky's 4th grade teacher was right.
The boy has talent.
I am thrilled that he is going to do this.
I think he has a real chance at going somewhere with it.
And I had one of the best nights of my life 
sharing his work and thoughts with him.

Now how cool is that?

Monday, September 26, 2011


Squeaky called and said he wanted to come and visit.
This was in response to an open invitation to him from the man who promised to pay for bus tickets if he or Max should want to visit.
I was excited to say the least and immediately set about arranging
a will call ticket for him on line.

Now when I was dating the man,
I made that bus trip several times.
One would assume that since I had that experience,
that I should be able to find my way there.
But you should know me by now...
and if not, at least I know my knack for getting lost.
I would make a dry run... just to be sure.

The man gave me clear directions.
I am much more familiar with the streets now but this was
a journey into the Emerald City, which I do not know as well.
Still, after listening to the man's directions
I was sure that I could find my way
and confident that places would jog my memory
of the area.
For instance, I recalled very clearly a soup kitchen on the corner
and a bar down the street from the station.
(The soup kitchen as it turns out is next to the station in P'land.
So much for my ability to recall.)

Off I set in the clown car... which I had freshly washed for the occasion.
I made the first two turns easily.
The third one threw me a loop... and I went left instead of right.
Well crap.
But I caught my error quickly and made adjustments.
Too bad they were the wrong ones.
I ended up under the bridge instead of on it.
I have made this same error before.  Sigh.
Okay... made a loop and found my way on top of the bridge actually going in the correct direction... I was back on track!

I made my next two turns perfectly.
Ha ha!  I had it now.
I am directionally challenged.
By this I mean that my head has no sense at all of 
where north, south, east or west are at any given time.

(Later the man would tell me...
numbered streets go east and west
and the named streets run north and south.
That would have helped.)

It also would have helped if I had looked to see the name of the street
where the bus station hunkers down.
But I did not.
At this point, I was actually on the street...
so when I took one left turn too many...
I left it.

No matter... in the spirit of happy reunion...
I decided that I was indeed in a familiar looking area...
so I was close.
All I had to do was circle around and go up and down the streets 
in a small radius.
It is unfortunate that I had decided that the right street was
the wrong one... and circled everywhere but on that street.

It was hot and humid.
Frustration set in quickly and soon I found myself
in a snit.
Off I drove home, because I can always find my way home...
by retracing my recent travels.

I entered the house feeling rankled that once again I had gotten lost.
But the man was smart enough to see my frustration.
He didn't stop me from printing a Google Map...
which told me that I needed Pearl Street, if nothing else.
He looked at the driving directions and said it would take me longer to go that way, but whatever.

He needed to go to the store.
I followed him to the truck in a sullen and sour mood...
which he wisely acted as if he did not notice.
Does nothing rattle this man's cage?
I haven't found it yet, if the annoyance exists that can.

I began to smile when he turned onto the freeway
on our return trip home.
I knew he was going to drive me to the station.
Getting cigars had been a ruse.
And I would have refused if he had offered.
It truly does bother me when I get lost.
It becomes a point of honor to find my way.

But this time, his just doing it without warning pleased me.
My ego could stay in tact.
Yes, I am aware that this reasoning is weird.
So it was that I saw my error with the extra left turn
and saw how simple and easy his instructions truly were.
How close I had been to it if I had not made that one crucial mistake.
Oh well.  Now I knew the way.
My drive to collect my youngest son would be easy and successful
the following evening.

Friday afternoon Squeaky and Bear went to buy books for college...
in P'land.
There was a four hour wait just to get into the book store,
and it was set to close in an hour.
A quick decision was made to buy online instead.
Bear dropped him at the bus station as she left town...
two hours early.

Not a big deal since he was supposed to be there an hour early anyway.
He texted me to tell me he was there.
An hour later I get another text...

"Been here an hour.  Already offered drugs.
Am watching a homeless guy's bag."

And so it went for nearly five hours of bus delays,
unscheduled stops for last minute riders,
and actual trip time.
Meanwhile I was at home, tracking him through texts.
Time passed slowly, but finally after all the delays
I got his text that he thought that he was near.
Off I set in the clown car... and drove straight there.

That's when the waiting began.
The first problem was that the bus station was closed.
This meant that there I was in a fairly seedy part of a strange town
after dark.
But luck was with me and I found a parking space right in front of the bus station doors.
Cool beans!
Outside it a variety of shady characters loitered...
and one fresh faced nervous college kid.
But not my college kid.
A loud burst of laughter from the punk bar down the street
startled both of us.

He moved closer to my car,
where I sat, doors locked.
Better to be closer to the grandma looking lady with the cell phone.
I smiled at him and rolled my window down... about half way.
We began a conversation about the delay.
He informed me that they told him before tossing him out of the station
when it closed that he had another hour to wait.
I said my son was on that bus and gave him the news that they were almost here.

That was how it went for a bit...
me getting texts from Squeaky about what he saw
in hopes that I would know where the bus was.

Up walks Stabby Joe...
many of his cousins were lingering about
and I had to force myself not to roll my window back up.
Oily and obviously living out of his grimy back pack.
He asked me about the bus delay.
He confessed that he 
"Have to get out of this town quick".
Okay... I don't want to know this story.
I told him what I knew and suggested that he wait 
in the alley the bus pulls into in an alcove that is there
where he can't be seen from the street.
He nodded and shuffled off.

The fresh faced kid came over to stand by my window.
Stabby Joe had made him nervous too.
I almost offered to let him sit in my car...
but you know not all of Stabby Joe's cousins look smarmy.
I get a text telling me the exit number Squeaky just passed.
His exit was the very next one...
in ten minutes they would arrive.
I passed that on to fresh face, who looked relieved.

I thought again briefly of offering to let him sit in the car
and then thought how creepy that might seem.
Some old pervy grandma who trolls the bus station late at night for victims...
Stabby Joe's grandma perhaps.
We continued our conversation through my half closed window
until the bus arrived and we said our good-byes.

I texted Squeaky that I was parked directly in front of the bus station doors.
I saw him walk out of the alley with his back pack on his back.
I waved and he walked the opposite direction.
Proof that being directionally challenged is genetic.
I can see him texting.

"Where are you?"

I hopped out of the car and flagged him down, 
and hopped back in to lock my door again.
He got in with his back pack still on and locked his door...
sitting like a hunchback, almost doubled over.
He says
"Oh my god! The ride itself wasn't so bad once we got going but everyone on that bus was related to Stabby Joe. WTF?"
That was my son.

On the ride home I only made one mistake.
It didn't really matter.
Eventually I saw a sign that pointed to my freeway.
Once I was on it, I knew how to get home.
Pizza and fresh baked cookies were waiting.
My boy was here safe and the conversation was excellent.
Stabby Joe and his cousins left our minds.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


When its hot around here...
the laptop I work on sort of melts down.
Its old, sits on the patio where the heat is present and we all know that computers do not like heat.
I don't like heat!
But the fact of the matter is that here is where we are
and when the weather is warm, 
it refuses to cooperate.

It suddenly shuts down.
I suppose its better than blowing up.
But it makes blogging a bit dicey.
I never know if I will get to finish a piece or not before it clicks off...
let alone visit blogs that I want to read.

So not much is going on here.
There was one tiny thing worth a giggle though...
When Turkey was here visiting us
one of his favorite things to do is take a bubble bath.
Being the good mommy she is, Bear sat on the closed toilet
while he played in the tub.

The man and I were in the kitchen.
Roxy wanted a "cookie".
She knows the rules for getting one;
sit and take the cookie very gently...
then take the cookie outside to eat... not on the rug.

She sat, she delicately accepted her cookie and ran for the rug.
The man shouts at her
"Hey! You get outside!"

In the bathroom Turkey turns to his mom and says
"Ut-oh, grandma's in trouble!"

I miss that kid.
He makes me laugh.

Fall is suppose to fall on Friday.
here it looks like an extended summer instead.

I'm ready for the smell of wood smoke
and burning leaves... though they don't allow you to burn leaves here.
I'm ready for crisp morning walks that get you moving to stay warm.
I've been seeing pumpkins on vines.
Soon we'll be waiting for the ring of the door bell...
and the giggles of trick or treaters.
They do still do that here.

I just hope that Roxy doesn't scare them too badly.
She loves to bark at the door.

Otherwise the only other thing going on here are more 
dumpster funerals.
The mouse count is up to eleven.
So it goes.

Saturday, September 17, 2011


Welcome to another edition of SSS...
our word today is 
 As you know...
silly rabbits live in holes in the EARTH.
This pic found here:
at a very cute site made by 
Mr. Dagley's 1st grade class.
Unlike Peter Rabbit...
I don't want to risk stealing from 
Mr. McGreggor.
I prefer to do till my own 
 As you can see, its very stoney...
good thing silly rabbits know how to dig!
That is it for photos for me today.
But I would like to mention the obvious...
Everyone, all the silly rabbits, etc.
live here on Mother EARTH...
though, speaking as a creature who is "prey" and does not attack other creatures,
not always in harmony.

Currently my EARTH revolves around
college football on Saturdays...
so I'm off to sit back,
nibble veggies,
and watch the games!

I hope you are doing something enjoyable today.