Denim the fox

I by no means am overly skilled when it comes to hand sewing. So I put off Ethan’s denim upcycling project as long as I could. 

I finally buckled down and drew out a simple pattern, got to cutting and then sewing. The finished product is the derpiest little fox ever, but it’s ready to give to my boy when he gets here. 


I’ve started a post at least a dozen times. I don’t know if it’s jumbled feelings, one track story mind, or something else keeping me from finishing it. But either way, I’m determined at the moment. 

I was thinking about taking a full hiatus, but realized I kind of already did that. I’m going to need a place to share my experiences and why compile them as wait till the very end? Why not post them as I go? 

Now will I keep up with this? Well we all know that’s mildly comical, but I’ll do what I can, which is all any of us can do. 

So I already have the ACE category. I will be making a new one for observations without a camera. More accurately that I couldn’t get muy camera out in time. And one other… I’ll announce the other as I prepare it. 

So best greetings to you this brisk Saturday morning. May adventure await around every corner. I love you all. 

The ring

I have had a ring for the better part of a decade. I wore this ring nearly every day, never taking it off. It’s a simple silver celtic knot that’s was supposed to encourage creativity. So of course, I’ve worn this ring day in and day out. It’s absorbed every word and emotion and triumph and rewrite… and now. now it appears to be full. 

Now whether it’s all in my head, or it has actually met it’s quota of emotional energy, but I cannot use it. At the beginning of nanowrimo this year I took off my ring and the thoughts flowed. the moment I put it back on, my brain ceases thoughts. 

I don’t know if I need to replace my ring or if I can cleanse and recharge it. It has been a comfort and my hand feels naked without it. 

Not with a bang….

This is the way the world ends… this is the way the world will ends. Not with a bang…. but with Miss Kitty Fantastico devouring the earth’s resources.

Don’t get me wrong… Miss Kitty is a gorgeous feline. She’s sweet and affectionate and loves being worshiped. We jokingly started calling her Miss Kitty Fat-ass-tico long before we ever moved. She liked to eat and was always very vocal about.

Well recently I have relocated her to the King John House with the rest of our menagerie… and it appears that she has decided to live up to her name. There are three other cats in the house, so we leave a bowl of food out for whenever they come through to scrounge.

Miss Kitty however is so excited about the prospect of a never ending food supply, every time we turn around, she’s back on the shelf. Eating. She polished off the second bowl of food the other day. Ethan – being the helpful lad – refilled it and decided to run interference with Miss Kitty while Quiddley jumped up to grab a quick bite.

The boy became distracted though and she darts around him and leaps into the air… to land on top of Quiddley. She pins him and straddles him as she shoves her face into the bowl.

Quiddley, never one to turn away the attention of the pretty girl, just sat there completely baffled by what happened and watched her woof down the food. He finally had enough of watching the animalistic way she scarfed the kibble and carefully extracted himself from beneath her.

If we’re not careful,she’ll also sneak in and steal the dog’s food. I can’t limit how much food is in the bowl and when the other cats get fed, but if it goes on like this, she’s going to blow up like a balloon. Le Sigh…. She was svelt and lovely…. Soon though I believe she will resemble a long haired bowling ball.

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.


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.