Sister Time

I've been derelict in my blog writing, but I have a good excuse. My sister was visiting from California and I put all my focus on her and having fun. Not that writing blogs isn't fun, it's just that the thrall of technology must once in awhile be broken for adventures in the real world: walks in the mountains, sitting on the back porch and eating ice cream, reminiscing about childhood tomfoolery, going out to lunch, shopping for shoes, doing genealogy, going to movies, riding ATVs; the list goes on and on. Real things in the real world that stick to your soul. It's an amazing place, the real world, with dazzling noise, wacky people, and wondrous smells. And what about periwinkle? I was mesmerized by that color in my box of Crayola crayons.

My sister left for home yesterday, and I will miss her. I'll talk to her on the phone and send her letters...I'll even email her, but it won't be the same. I won't be able to see her face when she cracks up over something I've said and I won't be able to feel how much she loves me through a hug.

Yep. There's a lot to be said for technology, but it can't hold a candle to the real world.

I think I'll go out and prune my rose bushes.

Sleep, Anyone?

I'm tired today. I was going to blame it on allergies, but I think it's actually because I only slept about five hours last night. My dog was snoring, my hubby was away on a business trip, and I'd eaten radishes from the garden late in the afternoon. These things, combined with having many decisions to make about book marketing, caused a whopping insomnia.

I know that all of my sleep depriving mongrels are insignificant when compared to the worry monsters that other people have to face, but try telling that to your active brain at 2 am. Oh! I did try telling that to my active brain at 2 am. It didn't even get me a drooping eyelid.

I thought about my grandmother's cure...warm milk toast. Yuck! I thought about my grandpa's cure...a shot of Bourbon. (sorry, Mormon girl). I thought about my mom's cure...a soothing hot bath. That sounded nice, but who wants to get up at 2 am and run bath water?

Through all this frustration, my dog continued snoring.

Sometime around 3 am, I drifted off, which is a nice way of saying I crashed through sheer exhaustion. So, today, I'm tired. I'm slogging my way through laundry, dishes, writing, lunch with friends, and blogs. Please excuse the meandering thoughts. Hopefully, I'll be more coherent next time.

I'd love some of your thoughts about sleep helps. I'll make a file and peruse it the next time the insomnia monster strikes.

Brave or Dumb?

I caught a bat, once, with my bare hands. My dog and I were home alone, tucked in bed, reading a book. Well, I was reading, my dog was—I don’t know, occupied with doggie thoughts. Suffice it to say, we were minding our own business when this little brown bat flies into the room. My blood temperature went to 32 degrees in six seconds flat. And my dog? She did nothing except watch—her head going back and forth, up and down like one of those bobble head dogs on a dashboard. She looked like Ted from “Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” I knew I was on my own.

I’d been washing the windows that day and the screens were propped against the wall. I slid out of bed, grabbed one of the wobbly units, and took a swing at the flying fur ball.

You’re laughing, aren’t you? You’re probably thinking I’d forgotten about sonar, or radar, or whatever super power it is that bats possess, and…you’d be right. Hey! I was in panic mode. I’d like to see what you would have done in the same situation.

I took another four swings and the bat disappeared. I thought I’d scared it out into the front room, but as I looked at the screen, I saw sharp little claws clinging to the wire mesh—claws, and wings, and teeth! I stared at it, and it stared back. I clamped my hand over it. Yes, that’s what I did. I clamped my hand over it. Hey! I was in panic mode. I’d like to see what you would have done in the same situation.

I prayed that it wouldn’t swivel its tiny head around and bite me with those needle-like teeth. I walked slowly to the front door talking to the manic mammal in soothing tones…“Don’t bite me. Don’t bite me. Don’t bite me, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, okay? I’m just going to put you outside. Everything’s fine. If you bite me though, I might just stomp you to death out of panic and terror. I wouldn’t mean to, but it’s better not to find out, okay?”

By this time I’d reached the front door. Luckily, we have the kind of front door knob that’s not a knob, but a handle. I pushed it down with my foot, and the door opened! I maneuvered my way out onto the porch and released the critter into the dark night. Such a relief! My dog ambled to my side, sniffing the night air, and thinking to share in the rescue credit. Huh! I did it! I did it all by myself! Me, all by myself. In your face. Take that! It was then I actually thought about what I’d done, and my body started trembling. I looked down at my hand and realized holding onto a frightened frantic bat was probably not such a good idea. Ya think? I tossed the window screen, raced to the bathroom, and washed my hands with every kind of bar soap, liquid soap, and bath gel I could find.

The moral of the story? Sometimes we do things without thinking, and sometimes those things come off as brave or noble, and other times…not so much.