Chicken Hawks and Podcasts....

NaBloPoMo #5

And Getting That Look From the Daughter

I talk to myself a lot. And I sing to myself. And sometimes I make up words about what I'm doing or thinking and put them to well-known tunes. (Doesn't everyone?!?) My family is used to it. I think it is therapeutic. I try not to talk to myself when people are around, but sometimes I forget. I try not to talk to myself when just my husband is around because he thinks I'm talking to him and will say, "What?" And then I have to interrupt my one-way conversation with myself to say, "Nothing, I was just talking to myself." Talking to myself is a stress reliever, I believe. When I'm puttering around the house, cleaning, putting away laundry, cooking, doing dishes, I talk to myself, and I feel relaxed. I wonder if a study has ever been done on the benefits of talking to oneself. 

Anyway, this evening Thomas had gone to bed, and Eler Beth had just gone to her room to do pet things before getting herself ready for bed. I was puttering around and thinking to myself (not talking) about what I needed to do before I sat down to do my blog post and then go to bed. Thomas had brought Eler Beth some pretty guineafowl feathers he'd picked up at a friends' house today (they happen to raise guineas) and what looked like a hawk feather and had given them to Eler Beth right before he went to bed. She likes things like that, and we like to use them in decorations. So anyway, their conversation about the feathers from earlier that evening was going through my mind too.

Eler Beth came out of her room and handed me a big 4-cup scoop that we use to measure out the dogs' food and that she'd forgotten to put away earlier. I thanked her, took it, and she turned to go back to her room. At least I thought she had turned to go back to her room. I turned to go to put it away and I thought of the little chicken hawk (Henery Hawk) in the old Foghorn Leghorn cartoons.

In a high-pitched voice I started to say what he said in the cartoon. "I'm a rootin' tootin', lasso-loopin', shotgun shootin'....(changing to my own conversational voice) no, wait, that's not right. (changing back to the Chicken Hawk's voice) I'm a rootin' tootin', lasso-loopin', six-gun shootin'....(changing to my own voice) No! That's not right either. Haha. What was it now? Oh yeah! (Changing back to the chicken hawk's voice) I'm a rootin' tootin', lasso-loopin', popgun shootin' Chicken Hawk! (back to my own voice) Ha! That's it!!"

And turning I saw my daughter standing just a few feet away, eyeing me a bit sideways, a small tentative smile on her lips, expression clearly saying, "Has Mom lost her mind?" What she actually said was, "What...what are you doing?"

Well, I lost it, and so did she!

I told her I was trying to remember what the chicken hawk said. And then I told her how I'd messed up the last part twice and remembered it correctly the third time. She said she hadn't been able to make out what I had said the first two times I tried to say it. She just heard me start it, stop myself, mutter something to myself, and then try it again. Then at the end I said the whole thing and laughed a bit scarily! 

Ah well. Someday she'll be old. :)

So then, a few minutes later I sat down at the computer and decided I'd load my iPod before I did my blog post. I listen to a lot of podcasts on my little iPod Shuffle. I have books and magazines on there, newscasts, and lots of radio shows. I pulled up my iTunes library, plugged in my iPod and began to delete the podcasts I'd listened to and to load new ones.

While I was doing this Eler Beth came into the living room again and sat down and started talking to me about something. I continued moving podcasts from my library to my iPod while we talked. At some point neither of us was talking, and this is what I said, aloud, to myself -- and this is what she heard me say, aloud, to myself, without the benefit of knowing the context.

Said quickly and in an excited voice: "Oh wow! Williwaw! That's a completely new one to me. I almost always know the word and what it means, but I like to learn the origin. But williwaw! They threw a new one at me today! Cool! Williwaw! Wonder what that is?" 

And then I stopped babbling and looked at my daughter. She was looking at me askance again. 

"What are you talking about?!?" she said.

I was laughing so hard it took a few seconds before I could tell her. I pointed at my computer screen. " 'Merriam Webster's Word of the Day' podcast," I said. "Today's word is 'williwaw,' and I don't think I know that word. It's new to me, see?"

She saw.

And we laughed. And then I scrapped my other idea for tonight's blog post and shared this one instead. :)  And in case you were wondering, a "williwaw" is "a sudden, violent storm blowing offshore from a mountainous coast." 

Happy Blogging!

~ ~ Lori

Bottle Feeding Kittens, Soren and Illyana....

 

NaBloPoMo Post #4

All The Nyans, Part Two

 

Back in April, as we were preparing for the arrival of Eler Beth's Fennec Fox, we got a surprise handed to us -- two orphaned new-born kittens.  A friend of ours called to say that a friend of hers had found them on the side of the road. Their eyes were not open, but began opening within a couple of days, so we estimated their birth date as April 15. 

This wasn't the first time Eler Beth had bottle-raised a small animal (and I knew it wouldn't be the last!), and she was thrilled. We quickly stocked up on kitten formula, bottles, nipples, bottle brush, pee pads, and second-hand baby blankets. The little girl, the buff colored one, she named Illyana, and the gray male she named Soren. 

We had no intention of keeping them. After all, she already had Bryant in her room, and soon the Fennec fox would be here. We didn't think it would be any problem to find a home for them when the time came.  

Bryant quickly showed that he was going to be really, really good with a little fox, because he went right into "dad" mode with the kittens. He LOVED the babies. They were HIS babies. He would go check on them in their carrier periodically. He cleaned their little bums. If you asked him, "Where are your babies?" he would go right over to them and look at them. And if I came into the room and took them out with me, to feed in another room or to bathe them, he would get a little agitated until I brought them back.

Now the only thing we ever worried about regarding getting the fox was how Bryant would be with him. He'd always been good with small dogs and puppies, but we weren't totally sure how careful he'd be with the fox. Our fears were put to rest when these kittens came.

They thrived under Eler Beth's care, with a bit of help from me, and of course we became attached. We never dared voice our attachment because Thomas, we knew, would not want a cat in the house. He has an allergy, although in recent years it doesn't seem to be as bad as it used to be. But after our last cat died, he said he didn't want any more because he didn't want to have to deal with it if it died. But with these two every time I'd say something about Eler Beth finding them homes, he'd say, "You don't hear me rushing you." Or I'd say, "You know she's going to be very picky about who she gives them to." And he'd say, "Of course she is. I'm not rushing to get rid of them."  We knew there was hope!! :)

As you will see if you read future posts, circumstances occurred that caused Thomas to become VERY attached to the kittens, and they are now part of our family. I'll go into that more as I continue the story of the Nyans which extends into the stories of getting the Fennec fox, another surprise rescue kitten, and....  But I'll just leave that for now. 
 
Illy used to love to sleep under the desk on the keyboard tray. She's too big to fit there now!  The last picture here is of them last month when they turned six months old. More on the little ones of the family soon! Happy blogging all!

~ ~ Lori 

Remiel, The Fennec Fox

The One That Wasn't Planned....

NaBloPoMo Post #3

Not What I Meant to Write

 

I had a post all planned out in my head for today but kept putting it off. I thought I would have a bit of time this evening to compose it properly. But then our daughter sat down with us to chat about work, and the three of us ended up sitting together for a solid two hours, just talking. Well we mostly listened, and she did the talking.

And I loved it!

Those who know me and this blog know how close Eler Beth and I are. She tells me everything. She still wants me to go shopping with her because she likes my opinion on the clothes she picks out. How many nineteen-year-olds do you know who do that? She asks my permission or at least my opinion before she spends her money that she has earned on something, and when I say, "It's your money, darlin'." She says, "I know, but I just wanted to know if you think I should use for it this."

And she talks to me a lot. But usually Thomas is working long hours, or their schedules don't mesh, and he ends up getting what she has to say secondhand from me. But with him being off work for a few weeks while his thumb heals, he's getting more opportunities to hear about her life firsthand. That's what happened tonight, and it was so much fun. She kept saying, "Sorry, I'm talking so much," or "Sorry I'm keeping you guys up so late." And we hastened to reassure her that we were enjoying just sitting there listening to her talk. 

She talked about how much she loves her job, how much confidence she has in Bryant and how well his training is going. She talked about her pets, her friends, her friends' pets. She talked about why she definitely doesn't want to marry young or even get involved with anyone right now. We heard about her goals for the next few years. We heard about everything. 

So I'm not going to try to make the post I was going to make today because I really am tired and ready for bed, and that post is going to take a bit more brain cells than I have available right now.

The name I chose for this post is appropriate in two ways. It isn't the post I had planned, and it is about the child who wasn't planned. Andrew was planned; Eler Beth was a surprise. And she's the best surprise of our lives!

Happy blogging all!

~ ~ Lori

The One That's About Me....

NaBloPoMo Post #2

Let Me Introduce Myself

 

It has occurred to me that since I am cross posting on Blogher I might have some visitors to this dusty old blog who don't know me. So for my second post I'll do a quick introduction. 

I've been blogging since 2005. I started on AOL Journals just for fun, mostly writing about my husband and kids and work. It wasn't long before I had got to know some really nice and talented bloggers with whom I still keep in touch. I was part of a blogging community we called J-Land (Journal Land). We have watched each others kids grow up, shared in good times and bad, said tearful goodbyes to some online friends who have shuffled off this mortal coil, and essentially become close to people all over the world whom I have never and probably will never meet in real life. 

In 2008 AOL let us know that AOL Journals was closing down, and most of us transferred our journals to Blogspot. (See my Archives in my sidebar for the posts made pre-Blogspot.) Not long after that Facebook really exploded and many of us don't blog as often, but have stayed friends  on Facebook. I still keep up with some through their blogs, though.

I am 49 with 50 looming on the horizon. My husband Thomas and I have been married 28 years. We live in Southern Indiana, although I was born and raised in Kentucky and he in Alabama. He is black, and I am white. We both come from rather large, very rural families. 

Our son Andrew is 26, and our daughter Eler Beth is 19. They are the things I am most proud of in my life! We're hoping to add Andrew's girlfriend Alexandria to the family some day soon. But, shh, I'm not supposed to pressure them....

I have worked for a newspaper as a writer and as a layout artist. I have done a lot of clerical and secretarial work. I have been a proofreader, and I've done some ghostwriting. I became a stay-at-home wife and mother and homeschooling mom in 2007. I miss the home schooling, but, you know, once they graduate they don't like it when you still try to give them lessons....

I stay busy, and this month I've really bitten off a mouthful. I'm doing NaNoWriMo AND NaBloPoMo. I'm sort of hoping it will kick-start me out of a writing rut I've been in lately. I hope to meet some new bloggers out of this also, and if you're visiting my blog for the first time, "Welcome!" And I hope you'll come by again.

I hope everynyan is doing well.

~ ~ Lori
 

All The Nyans....

 

NaBloPoMo Post #1

All The Nyans, Part One:

 

We call all the little mammals in the house "Nyans," even the fox. "Nyan" is the Japanese word for the sound that a cat makes, and it is also a video which became a meme a few years back. 

On days that Eler Beth works I take care of the dogs, cats, and fox, to whatever extent they need until she gets home. That usually involves taking Bryant (her big dog) outside and putting him in the kennel or on a tie-out and feeding him his breakfast if she has to go to work early.  That is never a problem. Bryant is such a sweet, good-hearted dog, and he loves his "grandma."

Back in April she fostered two newborn kittens found abandoned on the side of the road. They didn't even have their eyes open. That involved around-the-clock feedings and cleanings and changing of bedding. They were supposed to be only fosters, but all of us became attached -- even Thomas -- so they are now OUR cats. They will never leave. Right after we got them it was time for her to go to Florida to pick up Remiel, the Fennec Fox she had bought. At five weeks old when we picked him up, he was just barely older than the two cats, so they have grown up together. 

Then in June she fostered a kitten that a friend had rescued from the floods in our area. She was tiny and bedraggled, skinny, but old enough to eat solid foods. The original plan was to find her a home, but.... Well, she is now one of the Nyans, along with the older two cats and the fox. 

So on days when Eler Beth works I will message her on her break and say something like, "Fed Bryant and put him outside for a little while and fed all the Nyans." Of course grandma duties also quite often include playing with and treating Bryant and the Nyans. :)

Now we have three foster kittens, again acquired before their eyes were even open, that absolutely will not stay here when they are old enough to be adopted. We have found a home for one of them already.  One of them is a bit sickly and requires more patience in feeding; the two bigger ones take a bottle just fine, but this one has to be fed with a medicine dropper.  Their eyes are open now, and they are starting to play.  So now the message from me to my daughter when she's on her break is, "Bryant is fed and outside. I've fed all the Nyans, and I fed the babies." 

I enjoy doing it, and I love that my daughter has a heart that is never too full to take care of abandoned babies, but I have to admit that I will be ready when this round of bottle feeding comes to a close and these three babies have found their permanent homes somewhere else, much as I love them!

Pictures coming in a future post along with updates.  Hope you and yours (and all your nyans) are doing well!

~ ~ Lori

Bottle Feeding Soren and Illyana

To NaNo or Not to NaNo? To NaBlo or Not to NaBlo?

I think the title of this post says it all.

I have not blogged since July, and with everything going on in my life right now should I commit to 50,000 words this month? Should I commit to making a blog post every day? I haven't even read any of my friends' blogs in months! I've kept up -- sort of -- on Facebook with J-Land friends, but not the way I probably should have.

I'll commit and give it a try for one week. If it's too much for me to handle, I will bow out gracefully. 

 

Kindled Into Fire

“‎And yet I have had the weakness, and have still the weakness, to wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire.” ~~ A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, Chapter Thirteen

This is just a beautiful, evocative sentence -- "...you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire."  Isn't it wonderful when you have or have had someone in your life who can help to make you more than what you feel you already are?