Give Thanks - a fable

A man walked down a lonely country road, upset at his lot in life, damning himself and those around him. He was in a sad state, lonely, broke and sick. He stumbled along thinking; if I just keep moving eventually I’ll fall down and disappear into the earth, back to the dust from which I came. He shoes were old, with more holes than leather, the dust of the road coating them in a light brown sheen. His pants once were pressed and clean, the result of a trip to the dry cleaner a long time ago but hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in some time, the pockets had holes in them it didn’t matter because he had nothing to put in them. He wore an old button down shirt with a sweater against the cold, each belonging to someone else and found for free. To him, it didn’t matter how he looked, there was no one on the road anyway, he could be walking naked for all he cared, and he had nowhere to go. He was playing the blame game in his mind, blaming everything and everyone as he shuffled along. People didn’t help him enough; he’d be farther along if someone would help him. Why is life so hard for him when everyone else had it so easy? He should have more, he deserved more why did everything work against him to take everything he had? What he didn’t realize was that much was happening on that road, what he was missing. As he shuffled along, he didn’t see the red bird sitting in the tree staring at him, a beautiful song sitting on her lips waiting for the right moment to start. When she did start, he was too far along to hear, the only sound he heard was his feet crunching in the dirt. He passed a family of deer sitting still in the trees, the brown of their coat helping them to blend in. Miraculously they went through the morning in the path of hunters but for some reason were never seen, the two small fawns nuzzling at some grass peeking through bits of snow on the ground. They stayed close to their mother, quiet as he walked by. The most amazing part of his journey was right there under his feet. As he walked along he passed a beautiful stone that sparkled in the sunlight, he actually kicked it with his shoe, should have felt the stone through the hole in the front of his shoe but he was so wrapped up in himself that he missed it as he flung to the side of the road to a stop in the grass next to a small clump of snow. The gem was special, it was beautiful, full of color, full of sparkle waiting to be found. The material value of the gem would have set the man in the apartment he was dreaming about, bought him new clean clothes even his favorite pair of shoes, but like all the opportunities in his life he didn’t see what was right in front of him and let it pass him by. He didn’t see that God gave him great blessings, that by focusing on what he could not have he didn’t see what he already had and what was offered to him. He went along that road being selfish, thinking of himself and not letting anyone else in. If he’d stopped and gave thanks, he’d seen that gem, picked it up and call himself a lucky man. If he’d stop and give thanks for his life, he’d see the gem inside of himself and realize that he already was a lucky man. The sun was beginning to set as he continued down that road, the deer ran into the woods settling in a bed of leaves for warmth, the bird flying up to her nest and settling for the night with a sigh. The man walked on, while the gem sat unnoticed until the next lucky man walked by. What gem sits on your road? Are you thankful for the journey?

Technically I'm not available....

There are so many outlets no on the computer and internet to socialize with others, I love staying in touch with friends and family using these outlets, but they are beginning to erode my confidence. It starts with my Yahoo Mail Account. I log in and the first thing it asks me is my chat status….

Are you…..

The options are Available, Busy or Invisible. I stare at all three. I could choose to say that I am Available, but I’ve been married close to 25 years so technically I’m NOT available. I could choose busy, because aint that the truth, I’ve got 1 husband, 2 small boys and 1 dog so yeah, I’m pretty busy. But right now I should choose invisible because I feel pretty invisible every time I ask someone to pickup their clothes off the floor, or close the cabinet doors or put the roll of toilet paper ON THE TOILET PAPER ROLL! Choosing invisible means my friends can’t chat with me, so I choose to say I’m available, saying to my wonderful husband, “Technically I’m not available in that way, I’m just available.”

Then I go over to Facebook and it tells me that I don’t have enough friends, “I have plenty of friends, I think.” If asks me to help some of my friends make friends and a few I do feel sorry for them, gee, they don’t have any friends so it’s my duty to help them find friends. Then I wonder, is it asking MY friends to help me FIND FRIENDS? Do I really have enough friends? At least Facebook Chat asks the simple question, are you Online or Offline……it does let me choose a relationship status. I once choose Its Complicated prompting my dear husband to come and ask, “What’s so complicated? ”

So in Yahoo, I’m Available but not in that way, I’ve got plenty of friends in Facebook to feel that I’m a pretty cool person, and as always I’m ready to chat. Don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you when Facebook tells me YOU don’t have ENOUGH friends, I’ll help you out. Are you available today?

Snake Wrangling Melang Style!

I don't like snakes, one of the bad things about having boys - one of which who loves snakes. So when I find the 6 foot snake all I can think about is KILLING the snake and removing it from the garage - thinking pitch fork, scythe, or machette style.

Then I pull into the garage and find a small black snake caught in a glue trap sitting in the middle and my first thought is to just throw it into the trash and let my fantasy come real. My son, however has another idea,
"Mom, we have to save it." He states looking at the snake.
"Save it? Why?" I'm getting the willys watching it move.
"Because it is God's creature..." He states.....dang, how can I argue with that.

He runs and disappears into the house and comes out with my dish gloves on, "How are we going to get him off the glue?"

I go back inside and thanks to quick typing fingers come up with a plan. Did you know that cooking on the snake will make it slippery enough to get off a clue trap?

We're out there with olive oil (poor snake) and gloves and I explain to Max that he has to hold the snakes head down while I try to open the trap. Each time the snake moves I squeal and jump up and down a few times trying to quell the heeby jeebys. "Why are you jumping up and down?"

"It's the only way to keep myself from running into the house and sitting in the corner sucking my thumb," I reply.

So we get the trap open, and the snake takes a swipe at me when Max lets go, Wolf shakes his head, "Not touching it, I'm going inside."

The snake lies there, it's mouth open at us......yeah, I'm a snake......I know you are trying to help me, but I must try to bite you......yeah, I'm a snake.....that's what I do.....

Fiften minutes later, several jumps, 26 squeals we have successfully freed the snake from the trap. He lays there exhausted next to the glue trap, we stand there looking at him exhausted too, but he is free.

"We did it...' Max Smiles....OK, I tell myself, it was worth it.

We watch him slither away and Max quietly says, "You know I think the snake skin we found in the garage was MUCH bigger than that....."

Oh dang, I'm screwed! Did you know you could use cooking oil to get a snake off a glue trap??

Who's in Charge here?

Most that know me, know that I cannot find my way out of a paper bag….so the invention of the GPS was a very welcome addition to my travels, saving me a lot of time so I thought. I went to visit my sister in St. Michaels and was trying to get back to Baltimore so I plugged in Baltimore and let the GPS do its magic to find me there.
I’m driving, and driving then start wondering when I’ve moved from major roads to very minor roads, my GPS still confident that it will get me where I am going.
“This isn’t the way I used to get there?” I talk to the air.
“Turn right on Ma N Pa Drive and follow for 8 tenths of a mile,” the GPS replies.
“But this is a gravel road,” I say as I kick up dust from the rental car.
“Turn right on RedNeck Lane then make an immediate left into Hatfield Family Lane,” the GPS replies confidently.
I take all these back roads wondering if I am going the right way, when I come out of the woods and right up to a dead end and WATER! “Take the Oxford Ferry,” my GPS states.
“What?” I look at a very old man standing at a small boat waving to me looking like, “well come on?”
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS says again.
“This isn’t the right way,” I whine to no one, the man still waving me on. Finally he gets frustrated and walks up to me. “Are you taking the Ferry?” He asks, I can almost feel the GPS saying, “That’s what I TOLD HER to do.”
“I’m trying to get to Baltimore,” I reply looking at the boat.
“What?” He looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Will this take me to Baltimore?” I ask.
“I don’t know…..” He replies looking at the car that just pulled up behind me, she’s looking more confident that me.
“My GPS said it would,” I hold up the GPS screen it is confident in its route pointing the way.
He looks at it, “Looks like it will, there’s someone waiting behind you, are you taking the ferry?”
“Can I turn around?” Looking at the wooden bridge to the ferry, pretty tight looks like I am pretty committed.
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS repeats, I almost catch myself saying, “Shaddup!”
“Ummm, not really, you’re in the lane to take the ferry, and someone’s waiting….” The captain of the boat is looking out his window like, “What in the hell is going on?”
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS repeats itself, I’m waiting for it to add “you idiot” to the line.

So I take the oxford ferry (11 dollars later) then follow the GPS through a beautiful small town along a bunch of other roads and back onto my highway and into more familiar territory. It was a surprise but fun byway, probably picked by the GPS because it knew I needed to slow down and enjoy the sights. Or I made a wrong turn and the GPs thought, “Oh she wants to take the scenic route……” Either way sometimes life can throw in a detour, rather than getting upset go with it and enjoy the ride!

105 heat and OCD not a good combination at Carowinds!

I decided that I really needed some new torture in my life, so I woke this kids invited a nephew and said, "Let's go to Carowinds!" You may think it's torture to head to a amusement park with 3 boys ALONE, but the torture was the 105 heat index melting the tires off the car as we pulled into the parking lot at 10am!

$56 dollars just to get in? I looked at the receipt wondering if there were tiffany necklaces for us Moms that brave the park alone and pay that amount of money to try very hard to throw up as much as possible.

Carowinds was covering their bases, announcing over the loudspeakers that "We at Carowinds want you to know that in this heat, there is free water through out the park. Remember to hydrate and early and often." The free water was a dixie cup with a few drops in it so Put down a mortgage payment and bought the huge refillable tankards of soda! Easy to carry with ice that melts within `15 minutes this was the cheapest option when dealing with heat, boys and soda.

Dressing for the heat allowed many to exit all semblence of decorum. Many men wore muscle shirts that stretched tight against very soft NON MUSCLED chests, women in bathing suit tops and tank tops they really shouldn't be wearing but on a hot summer day like today, we all got the pass. We forgot that a moo moo was unfashionable, that your boobs can slip out of a bathing suit top that's too small for you on a roller coaster than takes you up side down, we all just wanted to have fun!

I don't think I've ever sweated so much in my life. I was sweating looking at the roller coasters my son was dragging me on, sweating as I pulled out my wallet thinking that a stop at the plasma donar on the way home would cover the snack, sweating hiding in the shade while waiting for kids to come out of the bathroom.
My OCD personality hit high gear as my sweaty body would hit the vinyl seats of the ride and stick to them. As my hands stuck to the railings of the roller coaster ride and I tried not to think about the scary looking person who exited the ride before I took their seat.

The kids wondered why I spent so much time in the bathroom, it was to wash my hands! Plus I found the one and only air conditioned bathroom and told them to go ride a few rides while I took a nap on the toilet.

So there ya have it, Carowinds by the numbers: 11 roller coasters ridden, 4 gallons of liquid consumed, 3 gallons of said liquid including caffinated soda, 2 bottles of hand santizer used, 1 empty wallet at the end of the day.

Would I do it all again? You betcha! What do you think of sweaty bodies at amusement parks?

Why I ride.....

I was excited about the Grizzly 40 miler, a ride through the High Country of North Carolina. Excited and very nervous as I do not participate much in bike rides, due to lack of experience, this time I had the experienced buddy (Keith) and another novice (Maria) to get me to the starting line and off.

We stood with over 100 people, very discreetly moving out way to the back, knowing that there was no time expected and going out with the super fast pack was out of the question. Picked a bad day to wear my Rock the Blue Ridge jersey, Maria in her Beech to Battleship biking jersey looking like we knew what we were doing but we didn’t. We had several triathlons under our belt and I two rides to boot, that was it.

Pacing ourselves for the ride, we were slowly making our way up that first major hill, when the police car went by, followed by the ambulance and then another police car. Dread in any athletes heart during a ride/race when emergency vehicles travel past, knowing that it’s someone that stood at that starting line with you full of dreams, hurt and not able to reach their goal.

When we came upon the accident, the upset of both the volunteers and police man had us both pausing, this is different, there is something seriously wrong. When told that we could not pass, that we had to wait because of an accident, I felt dread, when the third person comes and says there’s been a death, all I felt was panic. I pictured all those riders at the front, laughing and talking with each other, I pictured my friend turning back to me and saying, “Come on up ladies, let’s get going!”

There’s nothing worse than standing and being held back-helpless, knowing that people that you know were ahead, and were possibly part of the accident. I’ve seen it all during marathons, people passed out by the side of the road, seizures, ambulances; I’ve seen cyclists with broken necks by the side of the road. When someone is injured, you know there is hope. Knowing that there was a death makes this worse, because your mind already jumps to the worse conclusion, was I the one that talked him into riding this ride? The picture that jumps to your mind (before you can control it and block it) of that smile and “Come on Ladies, stop hiding there in the back?” After the dread, comes the panic then comes the determination. I almost felt sorry for the volunteers as those of us waiting start berating with questions, “Is it a he or a she? How old is he? Can you tell us what color jersey he was wearing? What type of bike did he have?” The poor volunteer knew our panic but also knew due to safety rules she could not tell us anything. We just sit and wait.

After what felt like hours, a volunteer comes and tells us, “The road is closed, you’ll have to turn back. But the person in the accident is not married.” The quick feeling of relief is followed by a feeling of guilt, I am glad that my friend is safe, should I be glad when someone else's son, brother, friend was there? We turn back, losing the feeling of the ride and pedal back to the cars, leery of the traffic, leery of the bike, leery of the race.

Tomorrow, I go out to ride. I go because it’s what I love to do, and I will not let this stop me. I may be a little slower, I may be a little more careful so maybe this accident was God’s way of telling a few of us, “be a little more responsible” but I will go out and ride. I feel this was fate, that this was his time, and not my friend’s time, that a few seconds earlier or maybe even a few seconds’ later things would be different. When you ride, there could be a dog, a squirrel, a patch of sand, gravel or it could boil down to the muscle twitch, you just never know.

Obsessing about the person, haunted by the wonder of what they could have done differently, trying not to picture the accident, the ambulances....trying to move it out of my mind. Trying to not let that accident mar a simple hike as my mind jumps to someone falling and I feel that fear all over again. Trying to put away the feeling of wanting to hang up the bike because it's dangerous-hell, anything can be dangerous, just ask the post rattlesnake boys.

Could I go down a hill with turns fast tomorrow, probably not-but I will go out there and ride, doing what I heard he loved to do, doing what I love to do. I’ll take the feelings of fear, helplessness, and panic and put it in a pretty little box with a beautiful bicycle on the side, close the lid and put it away to a special place in the back part of the my heart and my mind. Shut the lid on that box, clip in on my bike and pedal.

Why does this always happen to me?

The boys and I decided on an early morning hike, trying to get some fun in before the weather turned for the day. We decided to hit a little known trail, Lost Cove as something different, I read about cliffs and through this would be a spectacular view. It was a cool morning, hiking through large hedges of mountain laurel, no one else on the trail but us. I was able to leave the boys and relax because the sound of their arguing followed me on the mountain as I went in search of the cliff.

At the end of the out and back, I found the cliffs and they were as beautiful as I expected, we walked out on a rock and stood there peering over at Grandfather Mountain, amazed at God’s artistry. I took a few pictures, and wanted to take one for the magazine, so the boys started to move as I put my pen to paper and prepared to take a picture.

The silence was pierced by the sound of a rattlesnake along with the screaming of boys! I never expected a rattler to sound so large and so ominous in the still morning air! It is a sound I will never forget! A sound that really does make your blood run cold! My one son was scaling the rock, screaming trying to get to me, and on instinct I grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him over my back onto the ground behind me, the other screaming and running by the side. We ran back to the trail then just stood there wondering, “did that just happen!”

All three of us were pale, looking like we’d seen a ghost, the youngest in a mild case of shock. His face was white, his lips almost a slight tone of green but his eyes looked scary! His pupils were so dilated we said that he looked like alien boy with black eyes! We took a deep breath there for a minute before all saying at once, “let’s get the heck out of here!” The youngest held tight to my hand as we walked, the oldest non stop talking, like he was getting all the fear out of his system through his mouth. When he tried to point out the obvious, I tried to make him shut up.

“Mom, it was this big!” The snake went from the size of a dinner plate to the size of a boa constrictor, my youngest grip on my hand deathlike as Wolfgang started describing the fangs and rings on the snake. When I told him he was scaring his brother, he stated, “But he was right there between the two us, I mean right by the side of my head!” We’d gone from seeing him under a rock, to dodging the fangs of the snake in a true Tarzan fashion. Max didn’t say a thing, just walking faster, his eyes darting down on the trail. The situation gets worse, when the oldest points to a scrape on my youngest’s leg and says, “Is that a snake bite?” Now, Max looks like he’s ready to swoon processing the information that he could ACTUALLY have a snake bite on his leg. I stop them both and start with the oldest, “Will you PLEASE stop talking about the snake, and it is NOT a snakebite!”
“But it looks like two holes,” he says looking at Max’s leg, Max looks almost green now.

“Believe me, Max, if you’d gotten bitten by a snake – YOU’D KNOW. And Wolfgang, you mention the snake again and I’m going to bite you myself!” Both boys are now quiet as Wolfgang ponders what it would feel like for his mother to bite him and would it hurt more than a snake bite and do Mom’s have poison while Max just keeps looking at his leg, praying that it’s not a snake bite.

Wolf decides to change the subject in a MUCH MORE PLEASANT way, “Doesn’t it feel eerie in these woods, almost scary. Is that thunder I hear?” I’m waiting at this point for the youngest to just pass out and I’ll have to carry him the mile back to the car. We walk a little further, he looks back, “What? Did you hear that?” With a sign, I just keep walking.

Max stops, “I dropped the waterbottle.”
Wolf and I look at him, “Max, who cares. I’m not going back to get it,” I reply.
“Isn’t that littering?”
“Saving your life or worrying about a waterbottle, I’d choose saving your life,” I say and Max smiles.
The oldest stops and thinks for a second, “What if it was your phone?”
I ponder, would I let a snake keep my phone? “I could always get another phone, and snakes don’t make phone calls.”

This moves them to the age old game, what’s important enough to endure a snake bite, “What if it was a million dollars left by the snake, what a bout a trillion dollars, what if it was your Forsyth Woman pen?” I finally get the subject changed when I reply, “For the million bucks, I’d throw you at the snake, grab the money and you and then take you directly to the hospital.” They spend time on the walk back wondering if I’d really throw them at a snake.

Thunder. The youngest hates thunder. We’re sprinting back to the car as huge raindrops start to fall, didn’t make it dry but everyone is safe and sound in the car. Max spends the ride home tending to his scrapes with about 6 Bandaids, while Wolfgang talks about how big the snake was (we’re into pre historic sizes now and he was wrestling the snake as it tried to bite him.) \

I know things are going to be OK when I hear, “Mom, he won’t let me play his iTouch.”