A little bit of good

So a few days ago as I worked on throwing out some trash, I look down to see a little tree frog in the drive way. This in and of itself wasn’t wholly surprising, I’ve seen quite a few since moving here. I reach down to shoo him away from the path I was walking so he wouldn’t get crushed. I could see the fear in his eyes – how badly he wanted to leap away… only he couldn’t. He pawed desperately with his two front legs and dragged himself forward a few centimeters. His hind legs unresponsive.

I bent down and noticed how dirty the poor thing was – as if he’d dragged himself all the way to the spot. I wonder if word gets around the animal kingdom. If someone told him to find the crazy animal lady. He braced himself as I picked him up. He crawls pathetically up my arm a little bit and relaxes on my wrist as I carry him inside.

I wasn’t quite sure what to do with him. Terry suggested a quick passing might be more of a blessing than a long, drawn out death. I looked at the little guys amber eyes and told him I couldn’t do it. I was going to put him in Rex’s old cage and we’d check on him later. Knowing that he needed a good amount of humidity to keep his skin moist, I filled up the little bowl and put it in the tank that sat in the garage.

Later that afternoon, I found the poor little guy lying on his back in the bowl. Saddened, I reached in, to find that he wasn’t dead, just stuck. I pulled him out of the bowl and made sure he was on the solid glass. I knew the tank was dirty, so I decided to clean it out. Considering he couldn’t hop away, I left him on the front step and cleaned the tank and got him set back up.

As I carried him back inside, I noticed that his toes were twitching. This was a great improvement over how lankly he dragged them behind him before. That afternoon, I checked again. One leg he could move almost completely. I patted him on the head, left a few bug bits just in case and hoped for the best.

This afternoon when Ethan and I checked on the tank. He let out a massive leap, almost clearing the tank. He didn’t land on his feet, rather on his back, but he wriggled and squirmed enough to right himself and fumble forward to a better aimed jump.

I was thrilled when I lifted him out. I decided it was time. Maybe some fresh bugs and sunlight would speed his recovery. Ethan and I carried him out and nestled him deep inside the ginger bush in our yard. He immediately hopped from one massive leaf to another and found a nice perch to sun himself. Carry on my little friend – and spread the word.

 

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The strangest things

The sound of hooves surrounded Trevor as he ran. The trees in the dense forest made the sound echo so much that he couldn’t tell how many of the bandits were on his tail. They could have been respectable men chasing a trespasser on private land or he could have found himself in a group hunt for foxes. The truth is Trev had no idea where he was, or even how he got there. One moment he was walking casually through Central Park in the morning with his girlfriend and the next moment he was stumbling over cobbles and tree roots.

The men on horseback caught sight of him and gave chase immediately. He noted before turning that their clothes were cut closer to the eighteenth century rather than the twenty-first.

Trev tripped over one of the roots and was sent sprawling…

Through a stack of paper towels from beneath the storage rack in what appeared to be a Wal-Mart. He caught himself before slamming face first into the shelf ahead of him and looked around. The sound of horses had vanished. A nondescript couple stood at the other end of the aisle and met his confused gaze. He bolted from the aisle, leaping over three jumbo packs of paper towels.

“You’re not even going to clean up your mess? Jackass!” the woman yelled after him.

Since all Wal-Marts looked the same, he ran through the store in utter confusion to the front where the location was posted.

He stared dumbly at the words on the plaque for a moment trying to comprehend how he was teleported to some place called Seffner, Florida. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but it still showed date as September eleventh, two thousand one. He waved down the greeter as he shuffled toward the door.

“Ma’am, what is the date?” The older woman gave him a funny look.

“September eleventh,” she told him. Trevor let out a sigh of relief and smiled. “Two thousand sixteen,” she finished.

Trev froze and stared gape mouthed at the lady.

“Are you alright?” she asked. He nodded mechanically and forced his feet into motion.

“Yeah… sure thing.”

Sometimes we get inspiration from places we don’t expect. Such as walking through Wal-Mart and having some young punk burst out from under the racking at the end of the aisle. While I know he was most likely just hiding from friends, the look of shear confusion on his face sent my imagination into overdrive.

Something intervened so that Trevor and his girlfriend would stay away from Vesey and West Side Highway that day. The question becomes why?

Oh, so I’ve been listening to conspiracy theory podcasts. Mainly just so I can get a laugh. Most of what’s said makes me giggle. Probably more so than my inner paranoia nods enthusiastically with. Hopefully more than… Maybe equally as…. whatever – I’m not paranoid or crazy. Weird and eccentric – sure.

Dreams of the future

I used to think that you had to have a professional goal. The only dream I ever had was to become a writer and to explore the mountains. I was a misfit, I was behind. I worked to bring in a paycheck. I was good at whatever I did, but never found any real joy. It was a job, not a career. 

My dreams kept dragging me back to the mountains. Learning every valley and stream and waterfall. Memorizing every twist and turn of the trails. Talking to people about the history and stories of them all. 

Finally I thought… why not be a Forest Ranger? Obviously this isn’t an overnight accomplishment. That’s what lead me to start my research. That’s how I stumbled across the Conservation Corps and how I’m set on my current path. 

No, I have not acheived my goal yet, but I’m at a good starting point. I have not abandonned being a writer, but at least my day job might be able to bring me as much joy and fulfillment as my dream job. And it’s not too late. 

It is not a simple path, or an easy path, and maybe that’s what helps to make it more desirable. It’s the fight to make it happen. It’s discovering the missing piece to fill the void. 

Keep your day job while you need it…. but don’t settle on that being your end all be all. Dream big, and strive to make those dreams come true. 

Piece by piece

Pack my bags… I’m ready to go… *snickers* Yeah not quite. So far I have secured a sleeping bag, sleeping pad and new boots.

I am SO happy with this sleeping bag. Not only does it meet all of the requirements and is warm and squishy… but it is SO me!

Reversible to accommodate temperatures ranging from 15 degrees and up. Too hot, turn it inside out or even use it as a comforter. It’s the Ticla Rambler and I’ve never been so happy with a purchase. Shame that it’s on close out at rei.

I’m holding off to purchase my pack until I actually make it to Asheville. There’s an REI there and what better way to choose a pack than to cram ALL of the stuff into it that you need to and see how it works?

On the list of things to tackle is take my car down to GM and have them comb over the recall items and get a full tune up. I need her running nicely since we won’t really be able to afford a lot of guff over the next few months.

I’m looking at dates in early next year. Okay, well I WILL be looking at dates then whenever they get posted. I’d hate to miss Ethan’s birthday… but no matter how I swing it – I’ll be missing something. Christmas, Birthday, Easter, Anniversary… There’s a lot that one must sacrifice in the pursuit of their future. I wish I could bring everyone along, but rest assured that I will have it well documented to share when it’s all said and done.

Someplace new

It was not a house. It was not a store, or a theater… but all three. Massive and old, cobwebs still clung in high corners out of reach. There were arching brick pillars throughout.

I was living there. I can’t recall if I owned it, or how I came about being there. We were still trying to settle in. Do we like this room? Maybe that one there? This other has a view.

I never actually saw the view. I just know it was either bright or dark outside for night or day.

Did I mention my mom was there? She played a short cameo, walking around with Ethan, exploring the home.

We were getting ready for a party, friends and family alike. At the same time, the store at the other end of the manor had just received a shipment and a crew was getting ready to work the merchandise out to the shelves. It wasn’t going to be in the way of the party, but I invited the crew to stop by for refreshments

A friend came to visit. Only he wasn’t supposed to be there….

And that’s all I can remember. I had this dream over a month ago and started writing it down. I was interrupted before I could finish and it has since faded in its entirety. 

Not cut out for swimming

Do you remember these?

My brother in law had one when I was a kid. I remember it well. And every time I go swimming, I am reminded of it. I am not cut out for swimming. Every time I jump in the water – be it pool, lazy river, or ocean – I can equate what my spine feels like to the twisting, popping motions of the rubik’s snake as it’s twisted and deformed.

Usually people are directed to swim more for a low impact exercise… whew – not me. I just want to take a handful of painkillers now and curl up and sleep for a week until the pain passes.