Our miniature pinscher, Bandit, is a very observant canine. Though considered a "miniature" he weighs in between twenty and twenty five pounds. If that weight is hurled at a person from a dead on run it can knock over a grown man. He has no compunction whatsoever about launching himself against anyone or anything that he feels does not belong on our property. He's a great guard dog, letting us know with his furious barking and low growls whenever a stranger is approaching. He must be thoroughly convinced that a person is truly a friend before relaxing his guard. The house and land where we abide is Bandit's domain and woe be to another animal that dares to infringe upon that territory. Many neighborhood dogs and cats have been chased away when they have dared to set foot on our property or even walk on the road passing our house. Unfortunately, Bandit's barking and scent have also warned the deer that used to be prevalent in our grove. Each year my husband obtains a land owners hunting permit in the hopes of bagging one, but they just don't seem to show up anymore.
With Spring just around the corner the wild life is becoming abundant once more and nothing escapes Bandit's sharp eyes and keen hearing. This morning, we finally got to the task of taking down our outdoor Christmas decorations. Of course, Bandit was in his height of glory as he could run free while were were about our mission. We also had a load of trash to take to the burn hole at the back of the acreage. We filled the loader bucket on the Farmall and proceeded to head for the hole. As we unloaded the garbage we could hear Bandit's angry barks. At first we assumed that someone was passing on the road or that an rabbit had run across the yard. Those little critters are very profuse around here and are usually the culprits that antagonize our pet. The barking continued and grew even more intense. I soon realized that the sounds were coming from one of our old out buildings and strolled over to have a look. Bandit was intent opon something in the corner of the shed, trying to dig under a pile of tires and old rims. I summoned my husband who ventured into the building and tried to see what was causing Bandit's grief. By now our little dog was totally absorbed in digging out whatever was hiding beneath the rubble. I called to him and my husband pulled him back by the collar to get a better look. With a yelp, the dog shot backward with a tuft of whitish fur between his teeth.
A couple of years ago Bandit's curiousity had brought him up against a skunk. I really didn't want to go through that again but as I watched, Buck quickly backed out of the shack and announced, "I think it's a skunk... I saw a white stripe." "But with all that commotion, why didn't he spray?" I wondered. Buck assumed that it was a young animal who didn't have the ability to send out his perfume yet. We debated whether to leave the animal to grow up and cause more trouble or to take the chance, shoot it and hope nobody came away with a stench. Finally, Buck decided on the later and went off to get the pistol. Soon he was back in the shed and I heard two shots. I peered in and asked, "Did you get it?" After pulling some of the tires out of the way we could see that there was indeed a motionless pile of fur lying on the floor. We could see that it was not a skunk, as we had presumed. From the angle of the body we couldn't determine exactly what it was, so my brave husband bent to move more of the debris and get a closer look. Once more, he jumped back just as I saw a pink mouth open and the body shift. Grabbing the gun from the back of his pants he delivered two more shots into the mound. He reached down and victoriously lifted a dead possum by the tail.
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Where is Spring?
Spring officially began last Thursday. I look out my window and see .... snow. Snow and Spring do not go together! The winter seems to be endless this year. I don't know if it has really been a long, hard winter or if my advancing age just makes it seem more drawn out than usual. Spring has always been my favorite seasons so it is only natural that I would be looking forward to the end of winter. I love to see the budding of the trees, the greening of the grass and the sprouting of daffodils and tulips. Even the smell of Spring is glorious and fresh. Though I never have much luck, I look forward to foraging in the ditches for that first sign of asparagus. I never used to like asparagus ... or thought I didn't anyway .... until I tasted the ditch variety. The garden is a jumbled and tangled mess of tomato plants that I never got the chance to pull before the snow came last fall. I am eager to put on my gardening gloves and dig into the browned and rotting vines. Putting seeds into the ground and then waiting for that first appearance of a little shoot pushing through the ground is another of my favorite spring pastimes. I am even getting impatient to get on the lawn mower and excited to pick up the sticks and garbage the winter has left all over the yard. The ice and snow have been so prevalent that our outdoor Christmas decorations still have not been taken down! You may be a red-neck if you have your Christmas wreath and your Easter flag on the front of the house at the same time .... and we did! Though we did get more snow this week after the majority of it had melted, we can be assured that it won't last long now. Even if March goes out like a lion, April is just around the corner and those showers will wash the winter down the drain. It can't be long now. I think I'll go dig out my shorts!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Lies
"Oh, it was just a little white lie!" How many times have you heard that? What makes people think that a "little" lie or a "white" lie is not really a lie? And what is a "white" lie anyway? I'm assuming that it comes from the equation of black being bad and white being good. Can a lie be good? The dictionary describes "lie" as: a false statement made with deliberate intent to deceive; an intentional untruth; a falsehood. In our society today, lying has become common place and almost expected. People lie about everything from their age to their income. They lie to parents, employers and the government. And why do they lie? Only to make themselves look better or avoid punishment or make a material gain of some sort. Deceit is never right no matter how you look at it. In the long run it only makes a person out to be what they really are....untrustworthy.
Personally, I can not trust someone who has lied to me. That doesn't mean that I can't forgive and that the offender can not be contrite and remorseful for what they have done. My children have lied to me many times through the years, but I will still place trust in them because I know that they have learned a lesson from the falsehoods they have told. There are, however, people who can not open their mouths without lying. They have told so many untruths that their whole life has become one big lie. Some believe that you can tell if a person is lying from their body language. In many cases, this is true, but the habitual liar has become so calloused about their storytelling that they can fabricate showing no abnormal expression or gesture. A lie is most generally always found out even though no one confronts the wrongdoer. Someone always knows and now looks upon that other as a dishonest person. Proverbs 7:16-19 says: "These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto Him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren." If the Lord hates a lie, shouldn't man do the same? My observation about these verses is that a lie is no less a sin than murder. As you see, a lying tongue and hands that shed innocent blood are within the same sentence. In my opinion lying or bearing false witness also brings about the final transgression listed ... sowing discord among brethren. I see these things on a daily basis at my place of employment and unfortunately it is not just among the employees but management also. The friction and conflict brought about by these actions are disasterous. If only people would realize that they present themselves in a much more favorable light when they are being honest and upright. The next time you are tempted to tell that "little white lie", thinking that it is not really such a devious thing to do....imagine that you are Pinocchio, and that any untruth that spills from your lips will cause your nose to grow an inch!
Personally, I can not trust someone who has lied to me. That doesn't mean that I can't forgive and that the offender can not be contrite and remorseful for what they have done. My children have lied to me many times through the years, but I will still place trust in them because I know that they have learned a lesson from the falsehoods they have told. There are, however, people who can not open their mouths without lying. They have told so many untruths that their whole life has become one big lie. Some believe that you can tell if a person is lying from their body language. In many cases, this is true, but the habitual liar has become so calloused about their storytelling that they can fabricate showing no abnormal expression or gesture. A lie is most generally always found out even though no one confronts the wrongdoer. Someone always knows and now looks upon that other as a dishonest person. Proverbs 7:16-19 says: "These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto Him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, An heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, A false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren." If the Lord hates a lie, shouldn't man do the same? My observation about these verses is that a lie is no less a sin than murder. As you see, a lying tongue and hands that shed innocent blood are within the same sentence. In my opinion lying or bearing false witness also brings about the final transgression listed ... sowing discord among brethren. I see these things on a daily basis at my place of employment and unfortunately it is not just among the employees but management also. The friction and conflict brought about by these actions are disasterous. If only people would realize that they present themselves in a much more favorable light when they are being honest and upright. The next time you are tempted to tell that "little white lie", thinking that it is not really such a devious thing to do....imagine that you are Pinocchio, and that any untruth that spills from your lips will cause your nose to grow an inch!
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Earliest Memories
I wonder how far back a person can actually remember. Can a person remember back as far as one year of age or even before? I know that as the years pass my ability to retain information is quickly failing. I don't feel like I was ever very good at committing things to memory but there must have been a time in my distant childhood that it came much easier. I remember my mother telling me that when I participated in my first church Christmas program I not only knew my own lines but everyone else's too. I couldn't have been more than four or five at the time. But as the years went on, things just didn't seem to stick anymore.
This forgetfulness was definately not inherited from my mother. She remembers the full name and birthdate of every relative, friend, piano student and church member. She can tell you the exact date that her children and grandchildren cut teeth and began to walk. She knows who married who on what date. She can remember all the important and not so important days in the lives of her three children. She could tell you what song was playing on the radio when her father came home from work on June 28, 1936! I can barely remember what I did last week! I feel like a terrible mother because I can't remember when my son first went diaper free or what my daughter's first word was. I don't remember how each child reacted after their first day of school, the names of their friends in first grade or the names of their teachers.
I wonder what makes us remember the random things that we do remember. I can remember playing with a black marble while bathing in a large washtub. We didn't have running water until I was nine, but other than the wash tub bath I don't remember much about being without this modern convenience. I vaguely remember going to the outhouse and using the chamber pot that was kept in my parents bedroom but don't really remember how I went about getting a drink of water or seeing my mother pump water to wash dishes. I couldn't have been very old in order to fit into that washtub but why do I remember that and not much else from those early years?
At the age of five or so I remember taking some bright red finger nail polish that wasn't mine. The neighbor girl and I were the culprits who stole the polish but I don't remember where we got it or which one of us took it or how we got it out of the store. I do remember going crazy with the stuff... painting leaves and grass and clovers. I know that my mother found out and made me go back to the store and tell the manager what I had done... but I don't remember actually doing that.
Another very early memory is staying on my grandparents farm overnight and hopping out of bed onto a very, very cold floor. The bed in an upstairs bedroom was piled high with blankets and quite warm but, oh that cold wood floor! And the chickens on that farm were not very nice either! I remember going out into the chicken yard with my grandma when she spread the feed around for the little critters. They seemed to converge on me from every direction and all I could see were chickens. I had nightmares about those foul fowls for a long time afterward.
Most of the memories I have from my earliest childhood really aren't my memories. They are pictures that have been placed in my mind from the stories of others. They say if you hear something enough times it becomes real.
This forgetfulness was definately not inherited from my mother. She remembers the full name and birthdate of every relative, friend, piano student and church member. She can tell you the exact date that her children and grandchildren cut teeth and began to walk. She knows who married who on what date. She can remember all the important and not so important days in the lives of her three children. She could tell you what song was playing on the radio when her father came home from work on June 28, 1936! I can barely remember what I did last week! I feel like a terrible mother because I can't remember when my son first went diaper free or what my daughter's first word was. I don't remember how each child reacted after their first day of school, the names of their friends in first grade or the names of their teachers.
I wonder what makes us remember the random things that we do remember. I can remember playing with a black marble while bathing in a large washtub. We didn't have running water until I was nine, but other than the wash tub bath I don't remember much about being without this modern convenience. I vaguely remember going to the outhouse and using the chamber pot that was kept in my parents bedroom but don't really remember how I went about getting a drink of water or seeing my mother pump water to wash dishes. I couldn't have been very old in order to fit into that washtub but why do I remember that and not much else from those early years?
At the age of five or so I remember taking some bright red finger nail polish that wasn't mine. The neighbor girl and I were the culprits who stole the polish but I don't remember where we got it or which one of us took it or how we got it out of the store. I do remember going crazy with the stuff... painting leaves and grass and clovers. I know that my mother found out and made me go back to the store and tell the manager what I had done... but I don't remember actually doing that.
Another very early memory is staying on my grandparents farm overnight and hopping out of bed onto a very, very cold floor. The bed in an upstairs bedroom was piled high with blankets and quite warm but, oh that cold wood floor! And the chickens on that farm were not very nice either! I remember going out into the chicken yard with my grandma when she spread the feed around for the little critters. They seemed to converge on me from every direction and all I could see were chickens. I had nightmares about those foul fowls for a long time afterward.
Most of the memories I have from my earliest childhood really aren't my memories. They are pictures that have been placed in my mind from the stories of others. They say if you hear something enough times it becomes real.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The Birthday Card
The alarm jarred me from a satisfying slumber at 2:45 AM. My arm shot from beneath the warmth of the electric blanket to quiet the offender before my husband began to softly kick or pat in an effort to urge me up and out. I must compliment the inventor of the "snooze" button, whoever he may be. Without my extra ten or twenty minutes of snoozing, I would never be able to function. In order to enjoy this extra time of drifting, I do have to set my clock about a half hour fast, but it is well worth it! My husband, on the other hand, does not agree! He just doesn't understand... nor has he ever tried it!
But, back to my original thought. After finally dragging myself out of the warmth of my cocoon, taking care of the normal bathroom things and getting my work attire on I realized that tomorrow would be the 50th birthday of my friend and co-worker, Rhonda. She wouldn't be working on her birthday so if I was giving her a card, it would have to be today. I hadn't stopped in town the day before for a special card so would have to either look through my supply on hand or make one. I love using my creativity to fashion my own greeting cards, but at 3:30 in the morning that was out of the question. The time was passing quickly and I had a fifteen minute drive to town yet. I ventured down into my very cluttered basement where my craft materials and supply of greeting cards reside. I soon found that my card supply had dwindled and there wasn't much to choose from. After discarding a few for youngsters, some get well cards and two anniversary greetings I settled on a card with two puppies on the front and a simple birthday message inside. I figured the dogs were okay since my friend has a dog. I added to the greeting with a few thoughts of my own and called it good.
It wasn't long after I has arrived at work that our paths crossed and I presented Rhonda with her card. Some time later she came to me and said, "That was really a neat card. I've never seen one like that before." I must have looked totally confused because she added, "You know, with the 50 on the back." By now I thought I was in the Twilight Zone. I knew I had been completely awake by the time I picked out the card and signed it and was absolutely positive that it was nothing more than a simple birthday card with two dogs and a brief birthday salutation. Well, I couldn't act dumb any longer and had to ask, "What are you talking about?" Rhonda explained that the card had some stuff about being 50 on the back. I was flabergasted! I just had to see this! Sure enough, on the back of the card, which I hadn't looked at before....who looks at the back of a card?.....there was a little story about turning 50! WOW!
But, back to my original thought. After finally dragging myself out of the warmth of my cocoon, taking care of the normal bathroom things and getting my work attire on I realized that tomorrow would be the 50th birthday of my friend and co-worker, Rhonda. She wouldn't be working on her birthday so if I was giving her a card, it would have to be today. I hadn't stopped in town the day before for a special card so would have to either look through my supply on hand or make one. I love using my creativity to fashion my own greeting cards, but at 3:30 in the morning that was out of the question. The time was passing quickly and I had a fifteen minute drive to town yet. I ventured down into my very cluttered basement where my craft materials and supply of greeting cards reside. I soon found that my card supply had dwindled and there wasn't much to choose from. After discarding a few for youngsters, some get well cards and two anniversary greetings I settled on a card with two puppies on the front and a simple birthday message inside. I figured the dogs were okay since my friend has a dog. I added to the greeting with a few thoughts of my own and called it good.
It wasn't long after I has arrived at work that our paths crossed and I presented Rhonda with her card. Some time later she came to me and said, "That was really a neat card. I've never seen one like that before." I must have looked totally confused because she added, "You know, with the 50 on the back." By now I thought I was in the Twilight Zone. I knew I had been completely awake by the time I picked out the card and signed it and was absolutely positive that it was nothing more than a simple birthday card with two dogs and a brief birthday salutation. Well, I couldn't act dumb any longer and had to ask, "What are you talking about?" Rhonda explained that the card had some stuff about being 50 on the back. I was flabergasted! I just had to see this! Sure enough, on the back of the card, which I hadn't looked at before....who looks at the back of a card?.....there was a little story about turning 50! WOW!
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