Swawmp Woman

My sister began reading my secret blog and asked me why I had picked a countrygirl theme when I was officially a Swawmp (yes, the spelling is right for the speaking where I am from) - woman!

Play back to 1988. Dave is a Subcontract Administrator at the Boeing Company. I am a Cost Analyst. My assignment is to manage/monitor the subcontractor budgets and make sure the one's who administrate them are keeping everything within budget. This is NASA/Military money, budget is a floating term in that world. But at Boeing budget meant budget, except to the subcontractors and those administrators. So, there was a continual battle between accountants and those administrators regarding "visibility" and "status" and "completion progress" as all these things impact budget forecasting and monitoring.

I met Dave and immediately began working towards straightening him out/kicking his a... to make sure he didn't mess up everything with his subcontractor. And so it began...He hated me and I loved making him hate me more. He was city bred, raised in Chicago, returned to Huntsville where he was born after his ever how many useless years in the military (I like to say Army here because he was Air Force and it STILL annoys him!). I was a girl born, raised and still living in the country...right across the road from designated wetlands/swamps...who embraced her "countryness" and never made apologies for my forthright attitude and complete inability to understand WHY anyone would waste their time negotiating when cleary presenting the facts was much faster.

Our conflict within that program was well known. So, when his boss suggested we actually have a date- we were shocked. That would be mixing one assh... (him) with one perfect accountant (duh- me). But, he called me - not once but several times and I finally relented after he begged me for days on end to give him a chance (yes America - this is MY story and I will tell it how I remember it!)

The rest of the story is pretty evident...EXCEPT our third date. My mother is a southern raised woman just like me. I still lived with her and my younger sister - across from that swamp and in early fall, the ground in that area becomes very ... spongee. But Dave had a truck - and he was convinced it was capable of handling the land in that area. So, on the third date, he parked in the yard, fearful of parking in my Mom's way as she was going to town to shop. He was and still is rather intimidated by her forthrightness and independence but they have learned to love each other just as they are - they did all along except his fear overwhelmed his ability to appreciate that she had an amazing sense of humor.

Mother left for the store, Dave and I got ready to go and headed into the yard. We got into the truck, he put it in gear and gave it a little bit of gas. But...we sat there. The wheels were turning, but the truck was going nowhere. I immediately knew the problem. My front wheel drive Honda would have gotten out, but that truck, with rear wheel drive and no suspension, just continued to dig deeper into the ground! It was a truck designed for city slickers, not a truck designed for farms. Dave was shocked at this knew revelation.

My sister came out when she heard the engine revving and Dave told us both to "stay on the porch and I will handle this". We chuckled at one another as he continued to shift from reverse to first gear and dig deeper, deeper, deeper. His temper was rising as he saw our amusement and his panic was setting in. He didn't know that country folk are not offended by ruts in the yard...he's from the city! He didn't know that my mother would laugh, he was certain that destroying her front yard would result in banishment from her place!

Finally, out of pity for his state of panic and anxiety, my sister and I began attempting to explain to him HOW to get that truck out of that rut. "Put sticks, boards, rocks ...in the hole - under the tire" my sister said as she began shoving stuff under the tire now dug in to almost the axle.

"You don't know about this stuff, you barely know how to drive!" he told her, completely offended by the fact that she assumed she could know more than him.

"Do you have a shovel somewhere, I can shovel some stuff under the tire and get some leverage" he said to me.

"Sure, but a shovel won't help, you need boards, something solid in order to...." I was responding when he cut me off.

"GET ME A SHOVEL...I can get this out" he said.

Now sister and I were both amused. We headed into the house to retrieve the shovel from the utility room and laughed out loud while we were there. When we had once again gained our composure, we returned to the yard with the shovel. By now, however, our "McLeroy humor" had set in and we began to agitate him with our comments, deliberately testing his anxiety to see what sort of outburst we could get.

"Do you think that shovel will lift your truck like a forklift" I can't remember if it was me or my sister who asked this but a light went on in his head - a very dim one in his state of panic.

"Get me a board" He said.

OH - he was figuring it out we decided as we located him a board. He took the board, put the shovel on it like a see saw and wedged the blade of the shovel under the tire.

Rae and I looked at one another in a bit of confusion but more in joyful anticipation of the next incident. And yes, America, as he lifted that tire with that old shovel, the handle of the shovel snapped in two.

"Oh no" Rae said. "I think that was Grandaddy's shovel!"

"Yes it was" I said.

"What - why the HELL would you bring me an antique shovel. Now I have to get this truck out before your mother gets home - she is going to HATE ME - THIS IS NOT FUNNY! Will you please quit laughing!" he yelled at us.

This scene continued a bit longer but exhaustion soon set in and then defeat. Rae and I finally managed to feel sorry for Dave and began reassuring him that Mother would laugh but he was STILL convinced that country folk view yards as do city folk and that his reputation with her was ruined from this point forward unless he got something done.

We did what we had intended to do all along. We called Jerry Mansfield, a local farmer with a tractor and requested that he come and pull Dave out of the yard. Jerry got there post haste, hooked up the tractor to the back of the truck and, within minutes, had the truck back on solid ground. Still, Dave was digging frantically with the remainder of the shovel, trying to cover up the hole begging....

"help me cover this up, if we pour some more dirt and the cover it with grass she will never know"...he said

"Sure" Rae said as she was standing in the hole, the ground coming above her knees '" we can just HIDE THIS!" at which point she and I had to retreat back into the house in order to laugh.

I think Mr. Mansfield assured Dave that my mom would not cast some evil spell upon him but would laugh and Dave offered to pay him. Of course he refused and as he was pulling out the driveway simply said "That's what you have to expect when you date a Swawmp Woman!"

To this day, our friends from that time call me by that name. To this day, Dave (now endearingly) calls me by that name on occasion. And...to this day, my Mom bends over laughing when my sister and I relay the story.

Dave replaced her shovel by the way....he bought her the most awesome coal shovel you have ever seen for Christmas. Unfortunately, the original shovel was just a common garden shovel!

Musings of a Star!

My sister wrote me yesterday - Yaaay for that - and asked my permission to use some pictures I sent her that I had taken when we were children. It made me begin to think how the world has changed. She is going to upload these pictures to her new website once she gets it started.

When I was a kid I had a little 110 camera and my mom probably spent a fortune on film. We learned to mail our rolls in to a wholesale house and get the pictures back for a very small amount. I have albums full of pictures. I would head out with a roll of film and photograph basically anything that I saw. I loved getting those shots back and analyzing my success at capturing the moments. There was "hen laying egg" - "rooster eating corn" - "dog barking to get off chain" - "sister with goat" - "sister with goat again" - "sister still with goat" - "sister loves goat" - "sister and goat together" - yes, lots of "sister with" photos and usually it was our pet goat. There are a few "sister with turkey" - "Sister with chicken" and the occasional "sister with turtle found in field" Everything was photo worthy.


My brother in law is a professional freelance photographer and sister is continually making us these most wonderful animated and musical CD's with old photos, etc. So, I try to send her all of the old ones I can. I know I will get them back and she takes the copies and puts them to good use.


Wait....brother in law is a professional photographer...sister wants "permission" to use a few photos I sent her. Re-thinking this entire situation...this could be a goldmine. My 110 skills were - after all - profoundly high quality if I do say so myself! All those goat, chicken and dog pictures could now be worth...can we say M I L L I O N S! Yes, the world is now about how much we can gain from even the most simple things we used to do for nothing.

Without that camera, I probably would have driven my mother nuts inside the house. I could take that camera and try to capture the world OUTSIDE which was where our mother wanted us. I could take baby sister with me and have even more fun using her as my model. Who knew that I could now get rich from all that? Who knew I would one day be giving "permission" (please include license number on all checks!) for someone to post these spectacular photo's on a website?


As I write this, I realize just how great I am becoming - or how great I have always been considering I took those photo's at the young age of 10 and 11, 12, etc. I was a prodigy and am now going to be discovered!

Finally- the world will know of my greatness! FINALLY, the world will realize that even as a child, I was the most awesome human with a camera ever to exist. They will be so amazed that it was just a 110 as I always knew as a child they would be.

I close this note with a quick goodbye - I have to go dig out all those photo albums and send sister more photos. You will see me in the magazines soon - I just know it - holding those big checks, wearing my bling bling, waving to all my fans, acting ever so humble as I am swarmed for autographs. I will never forget the little people who made this happen!

Ah - Autumn!

My friend Mary LOVES Autumn. http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=200490683

She decorates her house, her website, EVERYTHING. She inspires me to enjoy the seasons more than I ever have. I personally am a Spring person as I love the new life, the new warmth and the promise of a season of fresh vegetables and greenery. Even with the extreme heat of the summer, I find summer a great season. Even the mosquitoes won't sway that opinion of the season.

As Autumn progresses and Winter threatens, we get spiders galore spinning their webs all around. The banana spiders http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nephila and all sorts of other spiders. The banana spiders spin webs much like the spider in Charlotte's Web spun. My mother has always been enamored with them and goes to great effort to move them to new places with a broom before I visit. I am enamored with NO spider unless it's on the bottom of someone's shoe!

There is another species of spider I have yet to identify, however, that has at least sparked compassion in me. In the evenings it spins a large web sometimes between several trees. It begins working just as the sun is setting. Then, very early in the morning, just as the sun is rising, if I go outside, I can find it carefully taking this web back up. How considerate of this creature. I have no desire to eliminate it as I have yet to get the ole web in the face which normally results in temporary dizziness and occasional fainting when I imagine the gargantuan creature crawling up my back which has been the experience with previous banana spider encounters.

Perhaps if the banana spiders learned to write like Charlotte did, I would give them more consideration. You know....they could write things like:...."This is a web stupid, don't walk through it" or "I will tell your fortune for $15,000" at which point I could invite the media to pay up and the next day it could write something like "yesterday you woke up and tomorrow you will wake up again". People like Oprah, Geraldo, maybe even Jerry Springer could bring their shows to my house and interview this spider and pay to have it respond with further writings such as "If you want your show to succeed, you must pay Robbi - one MIll...I mean ...ONE BILLION dollars!"

I could see the Springer edition now....

"Folks, we are the house of the famous fortune telling spider - here she is now spinning her newest fortune"...

"Little does little Spidey woman know, but her fella has been seen around the corner with a rather shiny and beautifully decorated black widow!"

Then the widow could come out and she and spidey woman could battle it out until Widow explains to spidey just what happens to a fella who messes with the widow at which point they both crack open the spidey champaigne bottle and laugh about how stupid the guy was after all! Oh , and Springer security would all be bitten by the widow before the show ends - thus changing the face of sensationalistic television forever.

All this fantasy digression began with my reflection of Mary's love of Autum!

I guess all in all I do appreciate and enjoy Autumn. Sometimes, when I am wearing my favorite turtle neck, I even appreciate winter! Christmas would not be Christmas if there was not at least a chill in the air. Plus, I have managed to finally locate myself to a part of the country where snow is almost non-existent much to my daughter's chagrine - only a child would love Nebraska-esque snowfalls!

So, enjoy the seasons as Mary tells me. Appreciate them for each new beginning the offer.

Vermin in the House!

As I got home yesterday evening, the tiny little baby rat was found! YAAAY for the McKenzies.

Our last experience with a wayward hamster resulted in a few holes in the wall, some carpet damage and the grief of a daughter who just KNEW this creature would come home to her. I have to say, of all the vermin species, rats make ideal pets. That sounds crazy, but they have manners, they use a litter box and they have little tiny personalities. Our Gizmo is now over three pounds and he LOVES to be held. He will not, however, run off or get into stuff if he gets out of his cage. He simply hangs out on top, standing up with his little tiny hands out when we walk by seeking some treat for his greatness. Then, he goes back into his cage and hides the treat in his ever growing pile of food/trash which gets dumped out about once a month. The dumping results in his sneezing, and wiping his eyes in disbelief and his throwing shavings all over the place while he frantically looks for the lost treasure. Then, he starts building the stash all over again. He munches on his treasure at night after we go to bed. That's so much quieter than those horrid wheels hamsters run in all night long.

Our vermin adventure began when Leiren was 9 years old. She wanted a hamster and ONLY wanted a hamster (note: a child who ONLY wants something learns early in life that if you say you ONLY want something, you can get things normally not offered, then you just add to the list later on). Her father relented and we took her to the local pet store. There in a cage in the front of the store were the hamsters. One particular fat gray hamster was more affectionate than the rest and Leiren set her heart on this little creature. It willingly got in her hand and the box they offered for transport and the store owner guaranteed me we had a male. I have since learned that one can quite easily tell the difference as the males of the species disgustingly display their massive ...er...."assets".

Leiren named our little creature Dexter and Dexter took up residence in the new cage in her room. Dexter would get out and play with her, climb on her and sleep in her lap while she watched television. We had Dexter about six days when Leiren came bounding from her room..."Guys, guys,....it's a MIRACLE...Dexter has babies!"

"What" her Dad responded...."someone is going to get sued!"

"Oh No Daddy - it's wonderful - come see"

He went into her room with her to discover eleven naked creatures that my daughter referred to as babies. They were writhing in the corner covered by the visibly proud Dexter. Leiren was thrilled beyond description. As the babies grew - and fast they did grow, they became the neighborhood attraction. Children came from all over seeking to play with them. They were fluffy yellow, gray and black - the teddy bear variety and they were quite adorable. It soon became evident however, that eleven half grown and one fully grown hamster in the same container designed for one was just too many. Many the evening we would open up the stop compartment to find them packed tightly together, sweating, panting and smiling at their comfy little lifestyle.

Leiren's friends would daily come and they would take out a few and play with them. Then, the new kid showed up. The new kid was somewhat afraid of the creatures but insisted on holding a few of them. As the little guys began to play with one another and seek out her pocket as they often did with Leiren, she went into a panic and ejected them from her lap...right into the floor. They were terrified by the reaction and scattered to all corners of the room. Leiren was able to retrieve one that evening and cried herself to sleep thinking the others were bound for certain death.

Her parents - we - on the other hand were at our breaking point and intent on delivering the rest to the petstore to make HIS problem since he had sold us a hamster who obviously had no moral character while residing in his store. The next day, the plan was implemented. First, Leiren called all her friends. SURE, it was o.k. for them to come to my house and play with vermin but not a single parent would allow the child to bring one home! Friends- ugh!

As we were rounding up the remaining nine babies, we discovered our cat Mystery had gotten in the house. Leiren was in the living room when Mystery showed up with a peculiar expression on his face. He was attempting to get her to let him out the back door when she realized the expression was the result of yellow fluffy ....something...in his mouth! Oh the drama....She screamed - literally screamed - I believe people in New York heard it. Mystery dropped the limp creature and it lay on its back, looking dismally wasted. I opened the back door and Mystery escaped before becoming a victim.

There was Leiren...sobbing...walking towards the little creature, still laying on it's back, mouth open, tongue hanging out...her head down, her hands at her side...falling to her knees (I swear I could hear background music from the Godfather playing at this point). She leaned over the little guy, tears rolling to the floor and appeared to be intent upon kissing him his last goodbye. As she reached him, he bounded to his feet and scurried under the couch. Who knew that a hamster could act! This hamster had fully convinced one and all, mostly the cat, that it was dead!

Leiren screamed again - "It's alive!" and I screamed louder "Get it out from under the couch!" We had to re-arrange the living room but we finally caught it. Examination revealed no open wounds, no death punctures, just a slobbery mess of a fluff ball. We bathed him and she put him back with his mother. He got a reprieve from delivery to the petstore.

Two weeks later, Dexter had another litter of babies - her carousing days still in full swing obviously. This time there were only five and we quickly removed them and delivered them to the petstore while we were purchasing a new cage for the renegade.

Dexter and the renegade lived about three years. They had peaceful lives, alone in each cage and enjoyed residing in the computer room - the designated residence after many a sleepless night from the wheels in the cage going round and round.

So, that was the beginning. As they passed into the history books of our family, we were able to resist vermin pets for a very long time. Then, Gizmo was "rescued" from a snakefood set up and now we have Forrest. Forrest was easy to name...as we were retrieving him from his box last night, Leiren kept saying "run Forrest run".

Vermin may not be the best of pets, but they are easy. At least the rats are. As I have already described, they entertain without truly annoying. They enjoy the occasional bit of attention but never demand it. And you can leave them alone for days on end provided they have ample food and water. So far, they are easier than cats or dogs.

Sweet 16

Good Monday world!

I know the entire world checks in here and reads about my small town life, so I just had to shout out there!

I had the thrill this weekend of going to Huntsville, Alabama to pick up my daughter. She has spent several weeks with her grandparents and was finally ready to come home. Coming home is bittersweet for her as she has friends there she had to leave behind. She has friends here too as well but it's sad when you leave even though you are always moving towards someone else. I wonder sometimes if we fail to realize most of our lives are moving "towards" and concentrate on what we may be "leaving".

I have a friend who has lost everything - E V E R Y T H I N G - to Ike including the little spot of land that he called home which is now gone due to erosion from the storm surge. So, even if he were able to rebuild, there is nothing currently to rebuild upon. Some say "too bad for picking a spot that is vulnerable" but all spots are vulnerable as anyone who has been through a tornado or an earthquake can testify. Our lives are fragile in the physical realm.

My daughter's request for her birthday was to attend the Dixie Reptile Show which was held at the University of Alabama in Birmingham. She found out about this show from her friend Scott who owns Pet Addicts in Huntsville, Alabama. http://www.pet-addicts.com/ He has a huge inventory of unique and ...er...interesting reptile species and he has been a great educator for her interest.

I wondered as we negotiated our trip home and the stop at the show how a reptile is actually shown. Do they have little snake collars and leashes with little rings in which you walk/slither them around? Do they teach them to sit, down, heel or come on command? Would I be given the opportunity to see those less practiced snakes rebel and refuse to follow one or the other commands. Then, how do you discipline them? Perhaps you yank their little necks with that choke collar like you would a disobedient dog? What part is actually the neck?

The owner of the Dixie Reptile show http://www.dixiereptileshow.com/ was sweet enough to give us free entrance for Leiren's birthday, so her negotiation strategy was strengthened by the fact that entrance would be free. More thoughts as I drove from Huntsville to Birmingham - do the lizards have a "category" for each class. Is there a Hunter Class, A Vegetarian Class (the class of preference). Perhaps there was a "beginner Lizard class" where all the tiny little lizards would hang out knowing only a few commands and be excused more politely when they messed up.

I had this vision of people wearing little belts with pockets full of tiny mice, crickets, worms, maybe some lettuce for those preferable vegetarian varieties and tossing the "rewards" to the reptiles as they performed according to plan. I have trained and shown dogs and horses my entire life, but I simply could not imagine what I would find when I got to this reptile show. How would one know a good "Python Specimen" from a poor one? What are the conformation requirements for the different species of lizards?...oh the questions.

We arrived at the show about 15 minutes after it "started". As we entered into the auditorium all my questions were answered. A "reptile show" is an exhibition/sale of different reptilian species by different breeders and handlers. (Ladies, these are not men by the way - those are snakes of an entirely different species - sorry to mislead)

There was table after table after table of reptiles - snakes in clear shallow bowls with clear lids stacked in some cases five or six high - lizards in the same situation - one crocodile looking creature (owners get offended by the use of the word "crocodile" by the way - they are called "Caymans" or something like that - they just look like crocodiles). To see this creature through the glass, I found exciting. To take him home - not so exciting. And there were PLENTY of attendees at this show. I believe the stats said 47 exhibitors and there was a crowd in front of each table.

There were vendors of food - crickets, worms, special diets and...er...mice and rats. We "rescued" a tiny rat baby and justified it with the fact that we bought Gizmo (our overweight, spoiled and lonely rat) a friend for $1.00. Unfortunately, he was tiny and we did not realize until JUST THIS MORNING that he could crawl through the wires of Gizmo's cage. Somewhere in our little bungalow is one very happy, very free...baby rat! Unfortunately, he could become cat food instead of the designated reptile food he was originally intended. Sometimes even the best of intentions are just not so well planned!

My daughter came out of the entire thing the proud owner of a Crested Gecko (and you too can have this wonderful addition to your household reptilian population for the outstandingly low price of $60.00). It was her birthday present for which funding had been set aside, so it's not a complete waste of money- there's a commercial playing in my head right now - gas to show -$30.00/cost to get in - free/Gecko- $60.00/cage purchased later - $60.00 - smile on daughter's face - priceless. At some point the "damage from escaped rat to carpet and upholstery - unknown at this time!" There was one person who had three tiny (the size of a dime each) geckos of some variety. OH- they were cute and they were cheap. He was honest however and confessed their wildness and the difficulty at keeping them contained - "but they are really fun to watch run across the ceiling after they get out" he said. Oh well...cute isn't always the best bet!

I think I have the only 16 year old female child who has her heart set on become a "herpiterarian/reptile breeder/expert" whatever that is. I always thought that you just referred to ANYONE who likes slithering creatures as "eww" but now I have to change my opinion. As we headed home with the lizard, previously acquired Rainbow Frog, previously acquired Albino Pacman Toad, previously acquired scorpion named Sushi (I refer to him as future Sushi for my Shoesie if I ever see him outside of his cage), I could only imagine what lies ahead. She has her heart set on a "pet snake" but fortunately, she respects her Daddy's morbid fear to the point she knows it could result in bodily harm of someone. Maybe we will see her in the next Britney Spears video tossing one of these creatures at the star while she writhes all over the stage (that would be writhing in fear, not dancing people).

I have raised my daughter so far to be a creature of independent thinking who has a sense of responsibility. I have raised her to try to be intelligent and she has spent HOUR upon HOUR researching each new addition before bringing it home. She knows exactly how to care for, nurture (is that a word that applies to reptiles?) and contain (That's a word for reptiles!) each of them. I personally shared her affection for the reptilian world years ago but never expected to have them in my home. There are those who e-mail and call her with their care questions from near and far as she has participated in forums and blogs that reveal the knowledge she has learned...if only she did the same with her math! She has become a part of a network of people and many are kind enough to take the time to educate her further regarding this or that species and it's "practicality" as far as owning it. There were many at the show who were thrilled to see her and I was...well...just a mom, hanging in the wings, watching her enjoy her world - a world she is beginning to explore that only includes me as mom- hanging in the wings.

Where does one mom go from this point? She's 16 and I am learning to let her be her own person. I am no longer her buddy- I am her Mom - guide - nurturer - supporter. My hope is that she always knows no matter where she goes, I will always be home. I gave up the hope of being "cool" the first time she talked back to me. So, you take what you can get.

Sweet 16 - is rather bittersweet for Mom.

My Morning Shower

So my friend has power in Houston as of last night. How quickly we forget how important that little detail in our lives is. Ike left a very horrific reminder for us all that we are no match for the forces of nature. However, God is there with us in the worst of times, holding our hands and walking us back towards the light.

I kept calling Mary last week giving her directions for preparations. I actually believed I had useful advice. My first realization that perhaps our worlds were different was when I told her "Mary, fill all your tubs, your washing machine, your sinks, pots and pans, you will need the water just to flush the toilet".

Her response was simply -"Robbi, I have a pool full of water, I think our toilets will get amply flushed!"

I had to laugh at myself. Where I live, if the power goes out, the water goes out. We have a well which provides unlimited and delicious cold spring water. I love our water! But, when we have storms and no power, we have no water!

My morning wake up is my shower. Where most people seek the comfort and power of caffeine to get them going, I head straight for the shower. If I can't get a shower, I don't really see the need to get up - going through the day feeling dirty, hair tangled and frizzy, not quite awake, not smelling like freshly lathered skin - it's just not the same the entire day.

One Sunday a month or so ago, we had a very early morning thunderstorm. This summer we have had very few storms and morning storms have been non-existent. We could hear the thunder and I said "Oh, I think I will just lay here a while and listen to the thunder...it's so nice to hear since it will bring rain" And rain it did bring - LOTS AND LOTS of rain.

It took a Category 3 hurricane to knock out Mary's power and keep it out. In our case, it took one little bolt of lightning from this storm I had welcomed so readily. I had briefly forgotten the reality of where and how I live and not dashed to get my shower before the impending lightning bolt. I KNEW it would happen, it always does - but in one brief flash - my entire day - was ...well...not even worth the effort.

After the power went out, I initially laid there listening to the rain on the tin roof - another melancholy sound. I actually enjoyed it but then I wanted to get going with my day. And still no power. Thank goodness for cell phones...I called the power company and they simply left a message that they were working on it. I am the last house on the line...this day did not look very good.

We laid in the bed a few more minutes. The storm left - no more thunder - but still no power. And OH THE RAIN. It just kept raining. It was a warm summer rain, and it was setting in for the rest of the day as best I could tell.

At that point in the day, I did something...something only a die hard countrygirl would do...something my yankee husband initially said was insane. I stripped down, grabbed the soap, the shampoo and conditioner and I headed for the back deck! I WOULD get my shower. (sidebar - the back deck faces NOTHING but 50 acres of timberland - no human eyes were injured during the back deck shower event)

I stepped out onto that deck and felt that warm rain all over me. Well, first I realized that warm rain under clothes isn't really warm naked. But I was in it now and I was not going to admit that it was not so warm. It only took my husband a few minutes to cave in to the idea and head out there himself. Again - no humans were blinded from this event.

He realized quickly that - yes - I was lying when I said "come on out, the water's warm" and he began lathering himself up as fast as he could. Before I could explain to him that the rain water was softer than our well water, he already had himself looking like a soap bubble chia pet/human. We laughed, washed each others backs and just jumped around on the deck growing more hysterical as the event passed. The dogs ran under the house, the cats were hiding from the rain and I would imagine any other beast or fowl was heading for cover - from the view.

That soft rain water did not want to let the soap rinse and we stood out there until we were shriveled, shivering raisin people! Well...he would have to shrivel A LOT to be a raisin person, but he was all wrinkly. As cold as it was, we were still there, still laughing and still having the time of our lives! And it just kept raining -just for us.

We finally finished our duck-like showers and went back inside to towel off at the back door. The power was STILL not on and we were hungry. So we dried ourselves as best we could, got dressed and headed for Hardee's to see if they had power. That is the first time in YEARS I have gone out without styling my hair and it was liberating!

Hardees did indeed have electricity and we ate our biscuits and gravy and continued laughing about our morning showers. We stayed in near hysterics through the entire meal, drawing many a glance from on-lookers.

It was about four more hours before our power came on but we didn't care anymore. We were clean lean survival machines. We had conquered the morning shower challenge and were ready to take on whatever else the day held for us! I loved that morning shower and will cherish it forever. The next time I hear distant thunder I will... run like crazy to get into the shower before it gets there! Yes, I loved the shower, but it's value serves best as a memory - a very sweet memory!

Strange Happenings.

Yesterday I went home, quickly changed my shoes and attempted to get my evening walk completed before the distant clouds arrived. As I was rounding the corner of the back gate, I ran into around eight deer milling around the gate. We all froze- me, the dogs, the deer...just stood there. They looked angry with me for interrupting their little gathering, unwilling to budge. So I started wondering "do deer get rabies and is it possible that all of them can have rabies at the same time...will I be able to beat the dogs to the house!"

Apparently, they were wondering "does she have a gun or could we take her!" Apparently the gun theory won out and they bounded off quite quickly once they managed to get all turned in the same direction. At that point the dogs unfroze and began muffled woofing - sort of confused as to whether or not pursue or just be thankful they were not pounded by the tiny hooves of eight deer.

Strange events happen when storms approach and huge Ike is in the gulf heading towards Texas. I am prayerful for those in his path but completely fascinated by how he is effecting even our area which is probably a thousand or more miles away?

This morning we have birds that usually we never see and they all wanted to sing at the same time. It was almost noisy as I fed - the birds competing for the highest volume and the mocking birds annoyingly attempting to imitate each and every one of them. The horses were standing calmly in the barn and didn't attempt to make a move on the dog dishes as I fed the dogs and cats.

We have two cats who will try to ambush the front door when storms are on the horizon and they were there as was another one who has been donated to us sometime during the last few week. Unlike most donations, this cat is very tame and very domineering - insisting continually to be let into the house. I see him mostly from behind as my husband is once again tossing him out the back door. HOW he can slide between our feet is a complete mystery. This morning, as I was doing my "keep the cats out of the door while you are leaving jig" which is normally followed by my "don't let the dogs get muddy slobber on you" weave to the car, this one cat managed to NEARLY pasy my swinging feet and purse. I quickly closed the door and caught his foot - he screamed, hissed and growled until my slow reflexes realized I had to re-open the door. It just wasn't that simple either. The other two cats had already figured out I had to open the door and were poised to make their move the minute they saw an opportunistic crack. So, I had to once again do the "jig" and shuttle them away before releasing the screaming feline. Perhaps this time, he will be less reluctant to insist on where he belongs. We are re-arming our vinegar filled water bottles for future lessons for him. Side note...vinegar filled water guns work will with behavior therapy on many species - horses, dogs, cats...children...

I finally made it to the car still clean, unscarred by angry cats and poop free from all the new birds flying over. That's a victorious way to start the rest of my day.

As I drove down the hill on our little dirt road, I saw the tiniest little armadillo moving into the road. They do not normally get out after daylight so I was surprised. Instead of releasing a string of four letter words I have been saving for his huge cousin on our estate, I actually managed to be considerate of him in his state of stupidity. So, I drove up next to him - yes - next to him - his little wet funky looking nose was getting all dirty on the road and he was just looking at me and I said "you better get out of the road little guy or you will soon be dead - RUN - RUN - RUN"

The little armadillo looked up at me with his beedy, personality-less eyes and...screamed the loudest scream just before he took off for the ditch. I laughed and said again "RUN- RUN - RUN" and he screamed again, this time not losing his pace. I don't particularly like armadillos since the great tomato destroy invasion of the summer of 2008 but I'll have to give it to him- he made me laugh.

It's 7:30 a.m. as I write this and I have the entire rest of this day to observe all the strange happenings from the storm. I just wish my friends in Texas had the same observation point as I do.