Now THAT'S a big squirrel!
It's nice to see our military actually protecting Americans. But, I'm not sure, and correct me if I'm wrong...but I think I see...a nipple. I wonder if the photographer knew that he was getting the nipple shot.
That squirrel is one of the red ones like they have in the Chicago area. I don't know where else they have them but I'm sure other places have red squirrels as well. I never noticed that the squirrels were different colors until I was in my 40's. I guess when I moved south, I was too young or too busy to notice the different colored squirrels. It wasn't until a visit back home when I noticed that the squirrels were a different color than the squirrels down here. I'd get you a picture but I don't know where to find a dead squirrel.
One morning 25 years ago, I was cooking breakfast when my son walked into the kitchen from the back yard to tell me that there was a squirrel outside that was "holding still". I went to investigate my son's story and I'm quite glad that I did. As I leaned over to look at the squirrel that was indeed, "holding still", I queried out loud to no one in particular, "Don't squirrels have furry tails?"
What we had there was NOT a squirrel...it was a giant rat that must have come from the alley out back. I got the kids in the house and then attempted to kill the rat by throwing a brick at it. I kept missing or just not killing him and then I'd have to run back down off the porch railing and pick up the brick and start all over again. It didn't run away, I guess it had eaten rat poison and it's brain was being affected.
Anyone watching would have seen a woman standing on a porch, throwing a brick at the dirt with all the strength she could muster. Then, for some reason, that woman would run off of the porch, pick up the brick, run back to the porch and throw it at the dirt again. I did that for a good while.
The rat was bloodied and broken but it still ran away. It was one of the most horrific days of my life. It wasn't THE most horrific...that would be the day that I met Rick. I wish that I could go back to my life and stay home the night that I met him. I'd do the rat thing three times if I could just take back that one, hideous day. People have asked me, "You don't really mean that, do you?" I assure them that, "Yes. I really, really, really do mean that." I don't know why it's so hard to believe that I would pass on the lying cheat if given another chance. It's really a no-brainer.
Rats...that's all I ever got...rats.
Yesterday I walked to a drop box at City Hall to pay my electric bill because it seemed like it would be a nice walk for me and Payton. It would have been if that stupid dog would have listened to me. He wouldn't slow down for me so I was pretty much pulling on the stupid leash the entire time. When he pulled against me, the leash would tighten around my little hand or two fingers, causing me quite a bit of discomfort. The walk was two miles each way and there was no way that I could even semi-trot with that big dumb dog.
It was awful and I wish that I had never done it. On the way home, naturally, I fell. I've been thinking about that lately. I've fallen 6 times since my birthday last June. That can't be a coincidence. And then, last week, I suddenly began stuttering. That was fun. Can you imagine? You speak well for half a century and then you start to stutter out of nowhere. I felt like an idiot.
Anyway, I'd like to have the myelin sheath around my nerves checked out.
I fell down good last night, I really did. It could have been much, much worse, but the way I fell I went down in a small culvert type ditch behind some new curbs they were putting in at a side street off of Marietta Pkwy. That's one of the busiest roads in Marietta and not a street you would want to fall in or near.
When I went down, I ended up behind the wood that was holding the cement of the new curb straight up. I was down low enough in that culvert that I could just rest my arm on the curb itself. And right after I fell, that's what I did. I sat down Indian style and just relaxed for a moment. I knew that no further harm would come to me if I stayed down. The ONLY way that I could fall back down would be to pick myself up again.
It's funny, all throughout my life when something would fall to the floor, I would rarely pick it up again unless I had to. Things can only fall once if you leave them where they are. Pick them up and sooner or later, they'd fall again. So, I considered just staying behind that curb for a long time. While I was sitting there trying to figure out if I had broken anything THIS time, I didn't know whether or not I could stand up and then walk the mile and a half home from that corner.
This time I fell on my left knee. That was cool because that knee is already messed up. It hurts all the time anyway. It would annoy me if my RIGHT knee started hurting, because that would be a new thing. If my left knee decides to go from a 4 on the pain scale to a 6 or 7, I can handle that.
You know, I originally fell on that knee outside of CBS Studios the day I went to see The Price is Right. If I could, I would sue CBS and make them put the good shows back on TV. (At least for a week.)
Well, I'm going to take my knee and carefully try to get it into the recliner. I may have only actually FALLEN 6 times, but I trip over stuff, even my own feet, all the time. Or, I walk into walls. It's sort of funny until I fall. I don't like falling. I don't think I've fallen 6 times in my life until my birthday last year. Now I can't leave my house without, at the very least, coming frighteningly close to going down. Life certainly is an adventure!
That squirrel is one of the red ones like they have in the Chicago area. I don't know where else they have them but I'm sure other places have red squirrels as well. I never noticed that the squirrels were different colors until I was in my 40's. I guess when I moved south, I was too young or too busy to notice the different colored squirrels. It wasn't until a visit back home when I noticed that the squirrels were a different color than the squirrels down here. I'd get you a picture but I don't know where to find a dead squirrel.
One morning 25 years ago, I was cooking breakfast when my son walked into the kitchen from the back yard to tell me that there was a squirrel outside that was "holding still". I went to investigate my son's story and I'm quite glad that I did. As I leaned over to look at the squirrel that was indeed, "holding still", I queried out loud to no one in particular, "Don't squirrels have furry tails?"
What we had there was NOT a squirrel...it was a giant rat that must have come from the alley out back. I got the kids in the house and then attempted to kill the rat by throwing a brick at it. I kept missing or just not killing him and then I'd have to run back down off the porch railing and pick up the brick and start all over again. It didn't run away, I guess it had eaten rat poison and it's brain was being affected.
Anyone watching would have seen a woman standing on a porch, throwing a brick at the dirt with all the strength she could muster. Then, for some reason, that woman would run off of the porch, pick up the brick, run back to the porch and throw it at the dirt again. I did that for a good while.
The rat was bloodied and broken but it still ran away. It was one of the most horrific days of my life. It wasn't THE most horrific...that would be the day that I met Rick. I wish that I could go back to my life and stay home the night that I met him. I'd do the rat thing three times if I could just take back that one, hideous day. People have asked me, "You don't really mean that, do you?" I assure them that, "Yes. I really, really, really do mean that." I don't know why it's so hard to believe that I would pass on the lying cheat if given another chance. It's really a no-brainer.
Rats...that's all I ever got...rats.
Yesterday I walked to a drop box at City Hall to pay my electric bill because it seemed like it would be a nice walk for me and Payton. It would have been if that stupid dog would have listened to me. He wouldn't slow down for me so I was pretty much pulling on the stupid leash the entire time. When he pulled against me, the leash would tighten around my little hand or two fingers, causing me quite a bit of discomfort. The walk was two miles each way and there was no way that I could even semi-trot with that big dumb dog.
It was awful and I wish that I had never done it. On the way home, naturally, I fell. I've been thinking about that lately. I've fallen 6 times since my birthday last June. That can't be a coincidence. And then, last week, I suddenly began stuttering. That was fun. Can you imagine? You speak well for half a century and then you start to stutter out of nowhere. I felt like an idiot.
Anyway, I'd like to have the myelin sheath around my nerves checked out.
I fell down good last night, I really did. It could have been much, much worse, but the way I fell I went down in a small culvert type ditch behind some new curbs they were putting in at a side street off of Marietta Pkwy. That's one of the busiest roads in Marietta and not a street you would want to fall in or near.
When I went down, I ended up behind the wood that was holding the cement of the new curb straight up. I was down low enough in that culvert that I could just rest my arm on the curb itself. And right after I fell, that's what I did. I sat down Indian style and just relaxed for a moment. I knew that no further harm would come to me if I stayed down. The ONLY way that I could fall back down would be to pick myself up again.
It's funny, all throughout my life when something would fall to the floor, I would rarely pick it up again unless I had to. Things can only fall once if you leave them where they are. Pick them up and sooner or later, they'd fall again. So, I considered just staying behind that curb for a long time. While I was sitting there trying to figure out if I had broken anything THIS time, I didn't know whether or not I could stand up and then walk the mile and a half home from that corner.
This time I fell on my left knee. That was cool because that knee is already messed up. It hurts all the time anyway. It would annoy me if my RIGHT knee started hurting, because that would be a new thing. If my left knee decides to go from a 4 on the pain scale to a 6 or 7, I can handle that.
You know, I originally fell on that knee outside of CBS Studios the day I went to see The Price is Right. If I could, I would sue CBS and make them put the good shows back on TV. (At least for a week.)
Well, I'm going to take my knee and carefully try to get it into the recliner. I may have only actually FALLEN 6 times, but I trip over stuff, even my own feet, all the time. Or, I walk into walls. It's sort of funny until I fall. I don't like falling. I don't think I've fallen 6 times in my life until my birthday last year. Now I can't leave my house without, at the very least, coming frighteningly close to going down. Life certainly is an adventure!
posted by Meg Kelso | 3:44 AM
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