dropped my car off to get worked on this morning (AGAIN) and had the rental car place come get me. nice kid, had him before (well, not *had* him, had him, but he's picked me up before, but not like in a bar or anything...i don't think). he explained that he needed to pick up another custie close by. no problem. waiting, waiting, waiting. the driver kid comes back, alone. mentions that the customer is making a phone call and in no particular hurry to get off and get his ass into the car so we can get our rentals and get on with our lives. the driver kid pulls the car up to the door - like blocking it - so this guy will get the hint. he finally wraps up his phone call, gets in the car - does NOT apologize and we are on our way. halfway there, driver boy - because he is nice - asks the man what happened to his car. the man explained that his "lady" did it while backing up or something - he was hard to understand. then he mentions this lil tidbit of information that i was not aware of...he says "damn it women. they are always dazed or they are asleep. mostly they are asleep." i must have been wearing my lady-looks-like-a-dude rags cause i find it very hard to believe someone would just throw that out there with a "lady" in the car. well, unless he just didn't give a shit what we sleepyheads thought of his opinions. what a douche.
needless to say there was a slight lull in the conversation. my eyes got huge, i bit my lip and tried (not very hard) not to make driver boy laugh. you know though, his statement could explain alot of things. is it politically incorrect of me to mention that this man was hindu? i get confused at what makes a racist these days.
that's all - i'm tired, and feeling a bit dazed...think i'll take a nap.
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
doin' the rat-trap boogie.
you know those neat garden window seats that some people have - miss england, you probably have one - where you can sit in your house and watch birds and butterflies and maybe a squirrel or two, filling their little bellies from your carefully tended feeders and flowers? the kind that you migrate towards when you have had a stressful day and need some peace, or maybe early in the morning when everything is quiet and you reflect on what a joy life really is as you sip your tea?
yea, i don't have one of those. what *I* have is a window that (i USED to think was neat because there is this beautiful blue potato bush right outside it that is trimmed to create a type of awning along my sidewalk and that gives wonderful shade in the summer and is nature's umbrella in the winter.) looks out upon a previously undetected nest of carnage.
been having rat issues again - they really don't bother me (GASP!) for the most part. i hear them frolicking in the attic seemingly happy, going about their little rat lives, raising their little rat families. about 2 weeks ago, braden looked particularly tired so i asked how he slept. he informs me that once he finally let the sounds of the rats playing lull him to sleep, he slept like the dead. well, until they woke him up again at about 3am with what must have been a family reunion of some sort - like maybe a birthday party where EVERYone they had ever known showed up. real nice shawna, you freakin redneck. get rid of the fucking rats already.
i called my stripper/pest control man (true fact, and found only in the easy life) and told him i was having problems again. he came out yesterday and set about a bazillion traps in my attic and outside along my fence. his explanation for why i have them has always been because i have trees close to the house which they use as an overground railroad to gain access to my roof. (some of you may remember that i literally watched a rat scale the side of my house once, so i know the trees make their lives a little easier, but those fuckers pretty much go wherever the hell they want to.) his solution, cut back the trees. ok, haven't done that (went out one day to do it - true story - and found that about 18 billion bees had discovered my acacia tree was in full bloom...yea, didn't trim that day.) but i plan on doing it soon.
cut to last night. while i'm happily cleaning my crap room, my phone rings and it's my friend stacy next door telling me to look outside my window. i pull up the blinds and immediately see her ENTIRE family crowded in their window looking at me. weird, i know, but, for now, the easy life takes place in freakin' suburbia with the neighbors literally 10 feet away. so she called me to inform me of a visitor snacking on something in the tree between our houses. they are watching this big-ass rat eating, gnawing, whatever right outside my window. nice, huh? we watched him for a bit, oohing and awwing over how cute he was (*wink*) and then decided we'd scare him off. he ran straight up the tree to my roof and disappeared. few minutes later, another rat, same spot, ran onto my roof. wth?
i figured there was something nibbly and delicious in there and dammit i was gonna find out what it was. armed with a stick, a step stool and the eyes of the neighbor's watching over my head for any other rats, i started diggin' around in the plant to discover what appears to be the shell of a bullfrog - bullfrogs don't have shells you say? this one was pretty damn dead and leathery, actually barely distinguishable as a frog. i also found some feathers, about a pound of olive pits (tree very close by) and a buncha rat poop. this is apparently the banquet hall for the neighborhood rodents...and right outside my window even!
i'm happy to report that the traps have yielded several monstrously huge rats in the last week - in and out of my house. in fact, stripper boy is out there right now dancing around in his g-string happily collecting rat carcasses, whilst i sit and enjoy the quiet that is my house at this particular moment in time.
ah...the easy life
yea, i don't have one of those. what *I* have is a window that (i USED to think was neat because there is this beautiful blue potato bush right outside it that is trimmed to create a type of awning along my sidewalk and that gives wonderful shade in the summer and is nature's umbrella in the winter.) looks out upon a previously undetected nest of carnage.
been having rat issues again - they really don't bother me (GASP!) for the most part. i hear them frolicking in the attic seemingly happy, going about their little rat lives, raising their little rat families. about 2 weeks ago, braden looked particularly tired so i asked how he slept. he informs me that once he finally let the sounds of the rats playing lull him to sleep, he slept like the dead. well, until they woke him up again at about 3am with what must have been a family reunion of some sort - like maybe a birthday party where EVERYone they had ever known showed up. real nice shawna, you freakin redneck. get rid of the fucking rats already.
i called my stripper/pest control man (true fact, and found only in the easy life) and told him i was having problems again. he came out yesterday and set about a bazillion traps in my attic and outside along my fence. his explanation for why i have them has always been because i have trees close to the house which they use as an overground railroad to gain access to my roof. (some of you may remember that i literally watched a rat scale the side of my house once, so i know the trees make their lives a little easier, but those fuckers pretty much go wherever the hell they want to.) his solution, cut back the trees. ok, haven't done that (went out one day to do it - true story - and found that about 18 billion bees had discovered my acacia tree was in full bloom...yea, didn't trim that day.) but i plan on doing it soon.
cut to last night. while i'm happily cleaning my crap room, my phone rings and it's my friend stacy next door telling me to look outside my window. i pull up the blinds and immediately see her ENTIRE family crowded in their window looking at me. weird, i know, but, for now, the easy life takes place in freakin' suburbia with the neighbors literally 10 feet away. so she called me to inform me of a visitor snacking on something in the tree between our houses. they are watching this big-ass rat eating, gnawing, whatever right outside my window. nice, huh? we watched him for a bit, oohing and awwing over how cute he was (*wink*) and then decided we'd scare him off. he ran straight up the tree to my roof and disappeared. few minutes later, another rat, same spot, ran onto my roof. wth?
i figured there was something nibbly and delicious in there and dammit i was gonna find out what it was. armed with a stick, a step stool and the eyes of the neighbor's watching over my head for any other rats, i started diggin' around in the plant to discover what appears to be the shell of a bullfrog - bullfrogs don't have shells you say? this one was pretty damn dead and leathery, actually barely distinguishable as a frog. i also found some feathers, about a pound of olive pits (tree very close by) and a buncha rat poop. this is apparently the banquet hall for the neighborhood rodents...and right outside my window even!
i'm happy to report that the traps have yielded several monstrously huge rats in the last week - in and out of my house. in fact, stripper boy is out there right now dancing around in his g-string happily collecting rat carcasses, whilst i sit and enjoy the quiet that is my house at this particular moment in time.
ah...the easy life
Thursday, March 13, 2008
it's a great day - to wipe some kitty's ass...
anyone else spend 20 minutes this morning trying to cut fresh shit out of the ass-fur of a wildcat?
anyone...bueller?
anyone...bueller?
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
little-butt, schmittle-butt.
wednesday...short day for the girl. haircut day for the boys. try-to-get-your-shit-together day for me. kids are out of school next week and then we are having company for a week (YAY LEAF!!!), so i really need to shape the hell up. my house goes through cycles...for awhile it's so nice and tidy and everything in it's place and it hums sweet songs to me. then, slowly (no one knows how this happens) things start crawling from the bedrooms, the office, the bathrooms, the garage, the garbage can, the neighbor's house, the school, all migrating towards my main living space (ie: kitchen and living room) and my house starts screeching at me like a horny cat. it's truly a mystery - it's not just the kids...my shit does it too. you'd think i could see it happening, but i never do. we are stackers and pilers and pretty much all suffer from ADD - it just happens.
anyway, aside from my house being a disaster - i've been trying to be more conscious of my health. ugh, need i say more? i'll go out on a limb here and admit that i weigh more now than i ever have, not pregnant - i weigh about a buck 63. fully 20 pounds more than i averaged in all of my 30's. in my previous relationship this shape was called "letting yourself go", in my from-this-point-forward relationship, it's called "fucking sexy" - seriously wtf? if he thinks THIS is sexy, he would have dropped dead 20 years ago when even *I* thought i was hot. not the point though. the point is that i owe this man a long healthy life, big ass or not and let's face it, ain't never gonna be a size 00 ever again. since he's so un-obsessed with how much i weigh, i figure my size isn't the key - my health is. i'm trying to eat better and exercise more (gee WHERE have i heard this before?)...should be easy right? uhhh, not so much. i love food and i love goooooooooood food. i love pasta and bread and steak and bread and pasta. oh, and beer can't forget that i love beer. and margaritas...mmmmmmm, margis. see the problem?
i've decided to stay away from my scale. it's a number - this isn't about a number. for some reason my body has decided that it now likes being in the 160's, i have to accept that or i will drive myself crazy. i figure that if i eat right and at least walk everyday (not to mention the full-body workouts of quads and sex), wherever my body lands, weight-wise is where it should be. am i on crack? in denial? simply resigned? i don't think so, just finally realistic and content with being me. i hate to exercise and i love to eat, but i do think pretty much anything in moderation is ok (PPFFFT! - i do love my crystal meth). it's an amazing realization - don't get me wrong, i miss the tight stuff and wish i could lift my ass up from behind my knees and put it back where it belongs, but i guess i don't miss it enough to spend the rest of my life worrying about it.
where was i going with this? don't remember (ADD-girl), except i just got back from walking the girl to school, came in and had my fat-free vanilla yogurt topped with crumbled honey oat granola bars and i'm kinda liking me right now (whoo-hoo, yay me). see the way i figure it, if my house was clean, i'm pretty sure i simply wouldn't be able to stand it, i'd dig me way too much -remember, pretty much anything in moderation.
anyway, aside from my house being a disaster - i've been trying to be more conscious of my health. ugh, need i say more? i'll go out on a limb here and admit that i weigh more now than i ever have, not pregnant - i weigh about a buck 63. fully 20 pounds more than i averaged in all of my 30's. in my previous relationship this shape was called "letting yourself go", in my from-this-point-forward relationship, it's called "fucking sexy" - seriously wtf? if he thinks THIS is sexy, he would have dropped dead 20 years ago when even *I* thought i was hot. not the point though. the point is that i owe this man a long healthy life, big ass or not and let's face it, ain't never gonna be a size 00 ever again. since he's so un-obsessed with how much i weigh, i figure my size isn't the key - my health is. i'm trying to eat better and exercise more (gee WHERE have i heard this before?)...should be easy right? uhhh, not so much. i love food and i love goooooooooood food. i love pasta and bread and steak and bread and pasta. oh, and beer can't forget that i love beer. and margaritas...mmmmmmm, margis. see the problem?
i've decided to stay away from my scale. it's a number - this isn't about a number. for some reason my body has decided that it now likes being in the 160's, i have to accept that or i will drive myself crazy. i figure that if i eat right and at least walk everyday (not to mention the full-body workouts of quads and sex), wherever my body lands, weight-wise is where it should be. am i on crack? in denial? simply resigned? i don't think so, just finally realistic and content with being me. i hate to exercise and i love to eat, but i do think pretty much anything in moderation is ok (PPFFFT! - i do love my crystal meth). it's an amazing realization - don't get me wrong, i miss the tight stuff and wish i could lift my ass up from behind my knees and put it back where it belongs, but i guess i don't miss it enough to spend the rest of my life worrying about it.
where was i going with this? don't remember (ADD-girl), except i just got back from walking the girl to school, came in and had my fat-free vanilla yogurt topped with crumbled honey oat granola bars and i'm kinda liking me right now (whoo-hoo, yay me). see the way i figure it, if my house was clean, i'm pretty sure i simply wouldn't be able to stand it, i'd dig me way too much -remember, pretty much anything in moderation.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
bitch.
i have three dogs. sutter is old. and blind and deaf. but overall, she's healthy as a freaking puppy. she's a great dog, but has developed uhm...shall we call it "selective hearing"? i have buddy (aka ASSMUNCH) who is an obese, highly anti-social kennel fighter, but super sweet to people. then there is lucy. lucy is still a pup, so i keep getting told to cut her some slack...she has my neighbors pissed off at me because she's a barker ---no, she BAYS. why in God's name didn't someone tell me that beagles were BAYERS before i got her? she's really cute and really smart, but stubborn as a mule on steroids. also, she's a runner. little bitch.
yesterday morning dale and i were getting ready to make a home depot run for a few things i needed to fix up a few things around the house. i'm inside cleaning up and he's outside looking at my back gate. the door opens and he pops his cute little head in and rather timidly says..."hey sweets, can i get a little help rounding up three dogs, please?"
greht. just fooking greht.
all three pups are about halfway down my road - now i live on a cul-de-sac inside a development surrounded by pretty busy streets. only two ways in or out. my dogs are heading for way out #1. fortunately i was dressed (things like this usually happen to me in my jams), but still had my slips on - i can run in them, but i run like a special person; incredibly special. i yell for my dogs and the only that stops is buddy (have i mentioned what a good boy he is, why yes he is a such a good boy.) lucy is beside herself, drunk with the freedom, going wherever her stupid nose takes her. sutter has her head down and is making a beeline for absolutely anywhere but here. the good dog came right to me and dale put him back in the yard, the two bad dogs might have glanced at me for a second and quickly dismissed any ideas of willingly returning home - i can see it in their eyes - the moment that they decide the pleasure will definitely be worth the pain.
i am at the circle-drive entrance to the neighborhood and the bad dogs have stopped to sniff and pee, i'm gaining ground all the while yelling at both of them to "COME!" i get down on my knees on the sidewalk and start being as sweet as i can be to get lucy to come. kissy noises, patting the ground, sweet baby talk, bribes of prime rib and broccoli - you know, whatever it takes. WHOO-HOO! it works, she sees me down on her level and is so overjoyed that i don't sound mad anymore, that she's a running up the sidewalk towards me as fast as she can go. no wait, now she is going as fast as she can. huh...still picking up speed - she must really want a hug from me and to tell me how sorry she is for being a bad bad girl! racing right at me and, i swear not 3 feet in front of me, she cuts just enough to her left to shoot past me at, oh i dunno, maybe 73 mph? shawna, with absolutely no mind to what the hell the neighbors are seeing and absolutely no fear for her own safety, lunges to her right as hard as she can from her knees, right arm outstretched and in slo-mo she grazes (yes, grazes) the little snot's back with her fingertips...in a flash i see lucy's mouth wide fucking open in absolute, complete and utterly hysterical ecstasy. as i land with an "OOOOOOOF!" flat out on my side on the neighbor's lawn, slippers having flown off long ago, baseball cap still laying in the middle of the street, i swear i heard her laughing. [who'll be laughing when the garbage truck pancakes your ass into the concrete in about 3 seconds from now missy? hmmm...yep, pretty sure it won't be you."]
oh wait, no that wasn't lucy laughing...that was my neighbor stacy (the one who's hubs is pissed off), who was heading out for a walk, only to be treated to the site of me rolling around (for no apparent reason i'm sure, from her point of view) on someone else's lawn. she crouches down and calls for lucy, who joyfully runs to her and leaps into her arms, all lickey and happy and cute. omg, i swear, this dog is going to be the death of herself. you'll read all about it and IT WON'T BE MY FAULT.
now, PRIOR and UNRELATED to this incident, i was getting her a static (read: SHOCK!) collar to help curb her incessant barking at anything that appears to be any different from anything else she might have seen at any time in her life before. (again, with the pissed off neighbor) so, needless to say - i'm doubly determined. in fact, give me extra batteries and lots of extra shocker remotes - i'm handing them out to all my neighbors.
heh heh heh.
yesterday morning dale and i were getting ready to make a home depot run for a few things i needed to fix up a few things around the house. i'm inside cleaning up and he's outside looking at my back gate. the door opens and he pops his cute little head in and rather timidly says..."hey sweets, can i get a little help rounding up three dogs, please?"
greht. just fooking greht.
all three pups are about halfway down my road - now i live on a cul-de-sac inside a development surrounded by pretty busy streets. only two ways in or out. my dogs are heading for way out #1. fortunately i was dressed (things like this usually happen to me in my jams), but still had my slips on - i can run in them, but i run like a special person; incredibly special. i yell for my dogs and the only that stops is buddy (have i mentioned what a good boy he is, why yes he is a such a good boy.) lucy is beside herself, drunk with the freedom, going wherever her stupid nose takes her. sutter has her head down and is making a beeline for absolutely anywhere but here. the good dog came right to me and dale put him back in the yard, the two bad dogs might have glanced at me for a second and quickly dismissed any ideas of willingly returning home - i can see it in their eyes - the moment that they decide the pleasure will definitely be worth the pain.
i am at the circle-drive entrance to the neighborhood and the bad dogs have stopped to sniff and pee, i'm gaining ground all the while yelling at both of them to "COME!" i get down on my knees on the sidewalk and start being as sweet as i can be to get lucy to come. kissy noises, patting the ground, sweet baby talk, bribes of prime rib and broccoli - you know, whatever it takes. WHOO-HOO! it works, she sees me down on her level and is so overjoyed that i don't sound mad anymore, that she's a running up the sidewalk towards me as fast as she can go. no wait, now she is going as fast as she can. huh...still picking up speed - she must really want a hug from me and to tell me how sorry she is for being a bad bad girl! racing right at me and, i swear not 3 feet in front of me, she cuts just enough to her left to shoot past me at, oh i dunno, maybe 73 mph? shawna, with absolutely no mind to what the hell the neighbors are seeing and absolutely no fear for her own safety, lunges to her right as hard as she can from her knees, right arm outstretched and in slo-mo she grazes (yes, grazes) the little snot's back with her fingertips...in a flash i see lucy's mouth wide fucking open in absolute, complete and utterly hysterical ecstasy. as i land with an "OOOOOOOF!" flat out on my side on the neighbor's lawn, slippers having flown off long ago, baseball cap still laying in the middle of the street, i swear i heard her laughing. [who'll be laughing when the garbage truck pancakes your ass into the concrete in about 3 seconds from now missy? hmmm...yep, pretty sure it won't be you."]
oh wait, no that wasn't lucy laughing...that was my neighbor stacy (the one who's hubs is pissed off), who was heading out for a walk, only to be treated to the site of me rolling around (for no apparent reason i'm sure, from her point of view) on someone else's lawn. she crouches down and calls for lucy, who joyfully runs to her and leaps into her arms, all lickey and happy and cute. omg, i swear, this dog is going to be the death of herself. you'll read all about it and IT WON'T BE MY FAULT.
now, PRIOR and UNRELATED to this incident, i was getting her a static (read: SHOCK!) collar to help curb her incessant barking at anything that appears to be any different from anything else she might have seen at any time in her life before. (again, with the pissed off neighbor) so, needless to say - i'm doubly determined. in fact, give me extra batteries and lots of extra shocker remotes - i'm handing them out to all my neighbors.
heh heh heh.
Thursday, March 6, 2008
miss morgan
(February 15, 2008)
today is the day my oldest daughter turns 18 years old. holy shit - think of the access to cool clothes i would have had...
Friday, December 21, 1990:
i woke up to the sounds of my little girl "talking" to herself in her crib - she was sporting a bit of a snotty nose as she had had a few ear infections in the last month or so and one was just hanging on. never one to whine for long, her mood was as cheery and as anticipatory as ever. it was a few days before Christmas and we (and i use this term very loosely) had made cookies the night before and had them all wrapped up to give the other few kids at daycare. it was 8 am and we were off to lucille's house and my office. i had come to terms with having to leave her with someone during the day so i could work. lucille hollingsworth was a very sweet white-haired 70ish grandma that loved everything about baby's - this chick was a howitzer too; all of the reservations i might have had about her age were loudly answered by her strength, her stamina and her zest for life. morgan and i had developed a nice weekday schedule and where sometimes i simply fell asleep on the floor while she crawled all over me, we spent some yummy mom/girl time each evening after work.
as i remember it, work was uneventful except for the coolness of it being friday and the girl and i were going to wrap up our Christmas shopping and have a birthday dinner for my mom (her birthday was coming up on the 23rd) the following night. i got a call at about 2 pm from lucille saying that morgan didn't seem to be feeling well, she was running a fever but that she had taken some children's tylenol and was now sleeping. we decided she would call me back when she woke up and take it from there. as i mentioned, she was prone to ear infections and had been on antibiotics for what seemed like forever - fevers were definitely not unheard of with this kid. i ended up leaving work about 4pm when lucille said morgan had woken up but was still feeling crummy - i cleared it with "the boss" aka my MIL and off i went.
i don't remember a whole lot about that evening except we tried to read a book on the couch but she was too crabby to sit still, so i fed her and gave her a warm bath. she took more tylenol at about 6pm and she fell asleep in my arms around 7. i put her to bed and, for whatever reason, opened some peas and ate them from the can as my dinner. i watched a bit of tv and talked to THEEX on the phone. things weren't going so well between us for various reasons, but it was Christmas and we had decided that he would come up from sacramento that night to spend the weekend. i remember thinking i wouldn't be surprised if he didn't show up until the next day, as he was out with friends when i talked to him at about 9pm. i fell asleep on the couch and my girl woke me up at about 11pm chatting to herself in her room. she was cool to the touch and seemed happy. i got her up and warmed a bottle for her. we snuggled for a bit and then i put her back in her bed and off i went to mine. thank God her fever had broken, we hadn't finished up our shopping, but still had a couple of days for that. also, i wouldn't have to call off the birthday dinner for my mom. THEEX still wasn't here when i went to bed around midnight.
i woke the next morning about 6am to a moaning sound accompanied by a bumping noise coming from morgan's room. i went to check her and found her on her back, kind of lolling her head back and forth, unaware that i was even there. she usually did this excited little dance when i went in to get her in the mornings, something was definitely wrong. i picked her up and she was still cool to the touch, but she was moaning as if her body just ached. i put her into my bed and called her pediatrician's office, told them she was acting kind of weird and to please have the doctor call me back as soon as possible, she knew of morgan's medical history and i figured she would be the best place to start. when she called me back about 15 minutes later, my daughter had seemed to be perking up a bit. i explained the situation from the previous day to her and she advised me, that even though she seemed to be feeling better, i should still head to the emergency room "just to be safe". ok, doctor's not freaked, i don't need to be but it's hard, i was shaken just didn't really know why...just gonna get her checked out, we'll be home for lunch - i pulled something out of the freezer to thaw, grabbed a blanket for my girl and off we went. looking back on it, i now know that her doctor was worried, just composed as to not instill any panic in me.
i remember vividly what an absolutely gorgeous day that saturday was shaping up to be. it was a clear, breezy, crisp day in late december...i remember thinking we could probably go to the park later if morgan was feeling better, well if i bundled her up really well because the wind might hurt her ears. i parked at the hospital, went around and collected her up out of the car seat and wrapped her chubby little legs in the blanket - jeez what a loser, i hadn't taken the time to get her dressed, she was in a diaper and t-shirt. i carried her into the emergency room and she just kind of laid her head on my shoulder, she had moaned a bit when i picked her up and she seemed to be falling asleep again. not one to freak out without a really good reason, i waited my turn in line at the emergency room window and calmly explained to the nurse that i wasn't sure what was wrong but that she had had a fever and just didn't seem to have much energy. previous visits had prepared me to sit and wait for the triage nurse to evaluate her and fit us in when possible, so as i prepared to do just that, the nurse reached over the counter and just took her from me. she urgently called to someone named laura and whisked my daughter back into the depths of the emergency room.
being a bit disoriented and still pretty clueless, i just stood there at the window. "laura" motioned for me to have a seat and told me she'd be right back. a few minutes later she called me back into the room and explained to me that morgan shouldn't be as listless as she was. she quickly asked me about any medications she was on and told me that they would need to run some tests. i could come back with her "for now". huh? what the hell does that mean? i found out rather quickly. after hooking morgan to a few monitor wires and taking numerous notes, the doctor said something to the nurse and i was whisked outside the privacy curtain where she urgently explained to me that they needed to run a particular test that was going to physically hurt my daughter quite a bit. they explained something that i had heard of before, but only as a joke about a rock band. i had no idea what a legitimate spinal tap was, what it was for, or why it would hurt my child but hey, they seemed to think she needed it - the only decision i needed to make was whether or not i wanted to be in the room when they did it. the nurse suggested that i should probably wait in the waiting room, that i would be rejoined with morgan as soon as they were finished with their test. she also asked if i wanted to talk to someone. i had no clue what this meant and said that i was fine.
confused and rattled, but not yet completely alarmed, i kind of wandered out to the waiting room to think about what the hell was happening. i was all alone. i had called my mom and morgan's dad, craig to tell them where we were and that i didn't have any other information, but maybe they should come down so the doctor's could explain it, and i sat down to wait. that's when the nun and the priest walked in and sat on either side of me; that's also when the first of the real fear began to creep into my heart. within minutes i would begin to process the very high possibility that my life was more than likely about to be turned upside down. what i would fail to process was the probability that my world would be completely shattered before the morning was over.
i don't remember the nun or the priest actually telling me what i should be worried about, i only remember them asking me if i wanted to pray. uhm...ok? never having been incredibly religious, and certainly not catholic - they made me nervous. they were so serious and i still had no clue why they didn't have anything better to do than to wait with me. surely, there were people in greater need around here, it's a hospital - people are dying around here. but ok...praying couldn't hurt right, whatever it was for? i realize how naive and clueless i sound and looking back i truly was. i was 25 and, although i was basically raising my 10 month old daughter alone, i had tons of love and wonderful support from everyone around me. my life had been fairly "normal" up to this point and because of that, i had developed a good deal of trust and a lot of faith in the "good things happen to good people" rule...what's the worst-case scenario? my daughter was in good hands, i mean where is better than the hospital right? whatever was wrong with her would get cleared up, we'd go home and life would continue. yea, it might screw things up a bit regarding Christmas if she was still too sick to be around everyone, but hell that could be worked around. when the nurse came out to get me, i was ready...bring it on, i could handle whatever was wrong, just let me get back to my girl. i was sure she was wondering where the hell i was and why i was letting all these strangers poke and prod her. she needed her mama.
when i went back into her curtained-off area she was laying on her back with all kinds of tubes attached to her. she had tear stains on her cheeks, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully now. relieved, i asked them what the heck had just happened? when could i take her home? her pediatrician had finally arrived and i could hear her at the desk, on the phone scrambling for what sounded like large amount's of type A+ blood. while i stroked my girl's still almost-bald head, i watched her sleep and found myself saying "please feel good, please feel good, please feel good...you're my baby girl and all i want is for you to just feel good." the doctor came into our area and sat with me explaining that my girl had a severe case of meningitis. she explained that she had been moaning because her head hurt terribly and then she explained what happens to the lining of the brain with this particular infection. she explained that she was gathering enough plasma for a complete transfusion in the hopes that getting the infected blood out of her as soon as possible would lend her little body a helping hand in fighting what had invaded her body. she prepared me for the possibility of her having to stay in the hospital for a few weeks and i remember thinking "crap, over Christmas and New Year's". i was still so, so stupid - within hours i would be making deals with God, begging him to keep her in the hospital for a year, ten years, the rest of her life, whatever just please, dear God, keep her here where she will be safe, where they can help her feel better. please don't take her away from here for good.
shortly after the doctor bustled off, i was standing at a desk signing my name to papers that gave them permission to do whatever they deemed necessary to "fix" her; when i noticed increased activity behind me. i don't remember much about those next moments, what i do remember is finding myself in a closed-off room with morgan's dad and maybe some other people, maybe my mother-in-law i'm not sure. i don't know when i got there or when they got there. i don't know how long i had been there before i was being told by a nurse, i think, that i should get to morgan's side as soon as possible. she was dying. next thing my memory shows me is her body laying on her back, arms and legs spread with so, so many needle marks on her little body. both sides of her pelvic area and her armpits were covered with bruised pinpricks where they had searched for veins large enough to start IV's in, hoping that flooding her body with new, fresh, purely uncontaminated blood would breathe life back into her perfect little body. it hadn't worked. she had stopped breathing before i pulled back the curtain. she was gone.
i know that i was being led back to that room. i know that i collapsed trying to get to a counter to lean on. i know that i was back in the room and my entire family was now there. i was in a chair with my mom kneeling on the floor in front of me, gripping my hands and trying, in vain, to not only channel all of the strength she could possibly muster into me, but to do it while trying to control her own stunned disbelief and piercing grief. i know that i was inconsolable and i remember vividly seeing her finally give into the weight of her grief when she realized there was nothing she could do for me. neither one of us could help our daughters in the time of their greatest need. i watched her literally crumble onto the floor in front of me. i realized that i was seeing nothing but a shell where she had just sat. i believed at that moment that something devastating had happened to her soul. i swear i watched it all but leave her body. i still remember the blue sweater she was wearing, i know that i never saw it again. kathy's call was transferred into the room and i remember her voice pleading with me to tell her everything was alright. i will never forget her sobs and her repeated screams of "no, no, no, no...!" coming through the phone.
i was asked if i wanted to spend some last moments holding my little girl. i know i was petrified. i was afraid of how she would feel physically and i told the nurse that. she told me that my daughter was now an angel sleeping on earth. she told me that she was beautiful and at peace. she was no longer in pain and she was holding hands with God. she told me i had nothing to worry about - my daughter felt absolutely perfect. she was right. morgan looked as if she was falling asleep...her eyes were partially open and she looked like she did when it was snuggle time just before bed. her daddy was holding her when i got there and he looked up at me with what has to be the most concentrated, pure and raw grief i have ever seen. his eyes still haunt me.
my baby girl was wrapped up in her blankie and she was still so warm. i snuggled her up and buried my face into her neck and pleaded with her "please let me see your smile one last time. i didn't know the last one was the last one. i didn't cherish it long enough. i didn't know i would never see it again. i need to see your goofy smile one final time - please just wake up and smile. just one smile would save my heart from breaking into a thousand pieces." i don't know how long we sat there passing her back and forth, kissing her fat cheeks, smelling her yummy baby smell, stroking her soft skin. just waiting for a smile that never came.
i remember refusing to go back into that room of sorrow. i couldn't breathe in there. the grief was literally suffocating. i couldn't look at my mother knowing that her inability to console me had cost her something she couldn't afford to give up. i'm not a wallower. i need to move, i need to breathe. i headed outside to stand overlooking the hills. i felt the cold breeze on my face and thought, "i woke up this morning with my girl, tonight i will go to bed no longer a mother." it was the clearest, most awful moment of my life. how do you go about your life when your main reason for it is so suddenly taken away?
Christmas was 3 days later and we half-heartedly went ahead with our plans. it was to be morgan's first Christmas and there were so many gifts for her - what do you do, shove them all away in the closet? leave them under the tree unopened? some were pulled and shoved away, some sat unopened. i left the room a couple of times as it hit me that my baby girl would never shred Christmas paper, she would never play in the empty boxes. she was truly gone and my life felt completely void of anything but excruciating grief.
i think the hardest part for me was looking at the world around me go on as if nothing had changed. for most of them, it hadn't. not their fault, just something i was so totally aware of. driving down the road, seeing people in their cars just living their lives - happy, mad, whatever...they were still living, i no longer felt that i was. another obstacle was overhearing moms yelling at their kids. hearing kids crying. looking at the people who didn't deserve to still have their babies when mine was gone. why mine and not theirs? the one thing i needed was a reason - and there was none. never have i been more sure of the fact that i could give a shit if tomorrow never came. i dreaded tomorrow. tomorrow meant pain. tomorrow brought numbness and tears. tomorrow brought memories, but tomorrow also began to erase her face a little more everyday.
i never returned to our home - never, not one time. my friend kathy and my SIL monica went in and packed up everything. it was a wonderful gesture that i didn't really appreciate until later. i didn't want any of it - i wanted to walk away from everything that morgan ever touched, ever looked at, ever thought about. i had no need for any of it. later of course, i was grateful to have everything i could get ahold of. there is only one thing i've never been able to face in 18 years. kathy had a saved message on her answering machine from the week before morgan died. we had called her for some reason and i gave morgan the phone to let her "talk". kathy tells me that they are the sweetest sounds she's ever heard - i still can't listen to them.
morgan's funeral isn't incredibly clear. we had her cremated, as the thought of my child laying in the ground was absolutely unbearable to me. her favorite little white bear was cremated alongside her - weird, i know - i just didn't want to send her in there all alone. at the funeral, [for which, her daddy gets full credit - he did everything, all i did was sorta show up] there was the smallest casket i had ever seen. like for a doll. i remember a story the pastor told about watching morgan drift over the horizon on a boat...he said that we were seeing her depart, but that, at the exact same time, others were watching her arrive. whoa.
when it was over i remember walking to the front of the room, turning and seeing hundreds of people...sitting, standing - they were packed into this room, two days after Christmas, on this most unfestive of all days - showing their love, their support and their grief. it hit me that she had affected every single one of these people in her 10 short months; imagine what she could have done in 10 decades. i remember feeling an actual smile at that.
i had a dream about a month after she died...it's hazy now, but i know that in my dream i was looking for her and couldn't find her. i was running around the house calling for her, getting increasingly panicked - i thought she was hiding from me. i yelled for my mom and when she came into the room i asked her where morgan was. she looked at me, smiled and pointed over behind a big table, "she's right there shawna, she's been there the whole time." i looked over at her and she showered me with the greatest smile i've ever seen. the relief i felt was almost unbearable...and interestingly, it continued to flow through me even after i woke up. something had changed - she had touched me. i have no doubts that she had come to me in her way and reassured me that she would never really be gone. i began to heal.
it's been 18 years since i bore that little 10 pound girl, 18 years since i looked at her in awe and wondered what in the hell i had done to deserve such a gift. it has been just over 17 years since i last saw her, but december 22 isn't a day of mourning for me. it's a day of remembrance and a day of love. it's a day that changed my life. it's a day that made me a better person, and more importantly a better mom. it's a day that i thank God for the days that He gave me with her. i wouldn't trade any of them, not even december 22, 1990.
today is the day my oldest daughter turns 18 years old. holy shit - think of the access to cool clothes i would have had...
Friday, December 21, 1990:
i woke up to the sounds of my little girl "talking" to herself in her crib - she was sporting a bit of a snotty nose as she had had a few ear infections in the last month or so and one was just hanging on. never one to whine for long, her mood was as cheery and as anticipatory as ever. it was a few days before Christmas and we (and i use this term very loosely) had made cookies the night before and had them all wrapped up to give the other few kids at daycare. it was 8 am and we were off to lucille's house and my office. i had come to terms with having to leave her with someone during the day so i could work. lucille hollingsworth was a very sweet white-haired 70ish grandma that loved everything about baby's - this chick was a howitzer too; all of the reservations i might have had about her age were loudly answered by her strength, her stamina and her zest for life. morgan and i had developed a nice weekday schedule and where sometimes i simply fell asleep on the floor while she crawled all over me, we spent some yummy mom/girl time each evening after work.
as i remember it, work was uneventful except for the coolness of it being friday and the girl and i were going to wrap up our Christmas shopping and have a birthday dinner for my mom (her birthday was coming up on the 23rd) the following night. i got a call at about 2 pm from lucille saying that morgan didn't seem to be feeling well, she was running a fever but that she had taken some children's tylenol and was now sleeping. we decided she would call me back when she woke up and take it from there. as i mentioned, she was prone to ear infections and had been on antibiotics for what seemed like forever - fevers were definitely not unheard of with this kid. i ended up leaving work about 4pm when lucille said morgan had woken up but was still feeling crummy - i cleared it with "the boss" aka my MIL and off i went.
i don't remember a whole lot about that evening except we tried to read a book on the couch but she was too crabby to sit still, so i fed her and gave her a warm bath. she took more tylenol at about 6pm and she fell asleep in my arms around 7. i put her to bed and, for whatever reason, opened some peas and ate them from the can as my dinner. i watched a bit of tv and talked to THEEX on the phone. things weren't going so well between us for various reasons, but it was Christmas and we had decided that he would come up from sacramento that night to spend the weekend. i remember thinking i wouldn't be surprised if he didn't show up until the next day, as he was out with friends when i talked to him at about 9pm. i fell asleep on the couch and my girl woke me up at about 11pm chatting to herself in her room. she was cool to the touch and seemed happy. i got her up and warmed a bottle for her. we snuggled for a bit and then i put her back in her bed and off i went to mine. thank God her fever had broken, we hadn't finished up our shopping, but still had a couple of days for that. also, i wouldn't have to call off the birthday dinner for my mom. THEEX still wasn't here when i went to bed around midnight.
i woke the next morning about 6am to a moaning sound accompanied by a bumping noise coming from morgan's room. i went to check her and found her on her back, kind of lolling her head back and forth, unaware that i was even there. she usually did this excited little dance when i went in to get her in the mornings, something was definitely wrong. i picked her up and she was still cool to the touch, but she was moaning as if her body just ached. i put her into my bed and called her pediatrician's office, told them she was acting kind of weird and to please have the doctor call me back as soon as possible, she knew of morgan's medical history and i figured she would be the best place to start. when she called me back about 15 minutes later, my daughter had seemed to be perking up a bit. i explained the situation from the previous day to her and she advised me, that even though she seemed to be feeling better, i should still head to the emergency room "just to be safe". ok, doctor's not freaked, i don't need to be but it's hard, i was shaken just didn't really know why...just gonna get her checked out, we'll be home for lunch - i pulled something out of the freezer to thaw, grabbed a blanket for my girl and off we went. looking back on it, i now know that her doctor was worried, just composed as to not instill any panic in me.
i remember vividly what an absolutely gorgeous day that saturday was shaping up to be. it was a clear, breezy, crisp day in late december...i remember thinking we could probably go to the park later if morgan was feeling better, well if i bundled her up really well because the wind might hurt her ears. i parked at the hospital, went around and collected her up out of the car seat and wrapped her chubby little legs in the blanket - jeez what a loser, i hadn't taken the time to get her dressed, she was in a diaper and t-shirt. i carried her into the emergency room and she just kind of laid her head on my shoulder, she had moaned a bit when i picked her up and she seemed to be falling asleep again. not one to freak out without a really good reason, i waited my turn in line at the emergency room window and calmly explained to the nurse that i wasn't sure what was wrong but that she had had a fever and just didn't seem to have much energy. previous visits had prepared me to sit and wait for the triage nurse to evaluate her and fit us in when possible, so as i prepared to do just that, the nurse reached over the counter and just took her from me. she urgently called to someone named laura and whisked my daughter back into the depths of the emergency room.
being a bit disoriented and still pretty clueless, i just stood there at the window. "laura" motioned for me to have a seat and told me she'd be right back. a few minutes later she called me back into the room and explained to me that morgan shouldn't be as listless as she was. she quickly asked me about any medications she was on and told me that they would need to run some tests. i could come back with her "for now". huh? what the hell does that mean? i found out rather quickly. after hooking morgan to a few monitor wires and taking numerous notes, the doctor said something to the nurse and i was whisked outside the privacy curtain where she urgently explained to me that they needed to run a particular test that was going to physically hurt my daughter quite a bit. they explained something that i had heard of before, but only as a joke about a rock band. i had no idea what a legitimate spinal tap was, what it was for, or why it would hurt my child but hey, they seemed to think she needed it - the only decision i needed to make was whether or not i wanted to be in the room when they did it. the nurse suggested that i should probably wait in the waiting room, that i would be rejoined with morgan as soon as they were finished with their test. she also asked if i wanted to talk to someone. i had no clue what this meant and said that i was fine.
confused and rattled, but not yet completely alarmed, i kind of wandered out to the waiting room to think about what the hell was happening. i was all alone. i had called my mom and morgan's dad, craig to tell them where we were and that i didn't have any other information, but maybe they should come down so the doctor's could explain it, and i sat down to wait. that's when the nun and the priest walked in and sat on either side of me; that's also when the first of the real fear began to creep into my heart. within minutes i would begin to process the very high possibility that my life was more than likely about to be turned upside down. what i would fail to process was the probability that my world would be completely shattered before the morning was over.
i don't remember the nun or the priest actually telling me what i should be worried about, i only remember them asking me if i wanted to pray. uhm...ok? never having been incredibly religious, and certainly not catholic - they made me nervous. they were so serious and i still had no clue why they didn't have anything better to do than to wait with me. surely, there were people in greater need around here, it's a hospital - people are dying around here. but ok...praying couldn't hurt right, whatever it was for? i realize how naive and clueless i sound and looking back i truly was. i was 25 and, although i was basically raising my 10 month old daughter alone, i had tons of love and wonderful support from everyone around me. my life had been fairly "normal" up to this point and because of that, i had developed a good deal of trust and a lot of faith in the "good things happen to good people" rule...what's the worst-case scenario? my daughter was in good hands, i mean where is better than the hospital right? whatever was wrong with her would get cleared up, we'd go home and life would continue. yea, it might screw things up a bit regarding Christmas if she was still too sick to be around everyone, but hell that could be worked around. when the nurse came out to get me, i was ready...bring it on, i could handle whatever was wrong, just let me get back to my girl. i was sure she was wondering where the hell i was and why i was letting all these strangers poke and prod her. she needed her mama.
when i went back into her curtained-off area she was laying on her back with all kinds of tubes attached to her. she had tear stains on her cheeks, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully now. relieved, i asked them what the heck had just happened? when could i take her home? her pediatrician had finally arrived and i could hear her at the desk, on the phone scrambling for what sounded like large amount's of type A+ blood. while i stroked my girl's still almost-bald head, i watched her sleep and found myself saying "please feel good, please feel good, please feel good...you're my baby girl and all i want is for you to just feel good." the doctor came into our area and sat with me explaining that my girl had a severe case of meningitis. she explained that she had been moaning because her head hurt terribly and then she explained what happens to the lining of the brain with this particular infection. she explained that she was gathering enough plasma for a complete transfusion in the hopes that getting the infected blood out of her as soon as possible would lend her little body a helping hand in fighting what had invaded her body. she prepared me for the possibility of her having to stay in the hospital for a few weeks and i remember thinking "crap, over Christmas and New Year's". i was still so, so stupid - within hours i would be making deals with God, begging him to keep her in the hospital for a year, ten years, the rest of her life, whatever just please, dear God, keep her here where she will be safe, where they can help her feel better. please don't take her away from here for good.
shortly after the doctor bustled off, i was standing at a desk signing my name to papers that gave them permission to do whatever they deemed necessary to "fix" her; when i noticed increased activity behind me. i don't remember much about those next moments, what i do remember is finding myself in a closed-off room with morgan's dad and maybe some other people, maybe my mother-in-law i'm not sure. i don't know when i got there or when they got there. i don't know how long i had been there before i was being told by a nurse, i think, that i should get to morgan's side as soon as possible. she was dying. next thing my memory shows me is her body laying on her back, arms and legs spread with so, so many needle marks on her little body. both sides of her pelvic area and her armpits were covered with bruised pinpricks where they had searched for veins large enough to start IV's in, hoping that flooding her body with new, fresh, purely uncontaminated blood would breathe life back into her perfect little body. it hadn't worked. she had stopped breathing before i pulled back the curtain. she was gone.
i know that i was being led back to that room. i know that i collapsed trying to get to a counter to lean on. i know that i was back in the room and my entire family was now there. i was in a chair with my mom kneeling on the floor in front of me, gripping my hands and trying, in vain, to not only channel all of the strength she could possibly muster into me, but to do it while trying to control her own stunned disbelief and piercing grief. i know that i was inconsolable and i remember vividly seeing her finally give into the weight of her grief when she realized there was nothing she could do for me. neither one of us could help our daughters in the time of their greatest need. i watched her literally crumble onto the floor in front of me. i realized that i was seeing nothing but a shell where she had just sat. i believed at that moment that something devastating had happened to her soul. i swear i watched it all but leave her body. i still remember the blue sweater she was wearing, i know that i never saw it again. kathy's call was transferred into the room and i remember her voice pleading with me to tell her everything was alright. i will never forget her sobs and her repeated screams of "no, no, no, no...!" coming through the phone.
i was asked if i wanted to spend some last moments holding my little girl. i know i was petrified. i was afraid of how she would feel physically and i told the nurse that. she told me that my daughter was now an angel sleeping on earth. she told me that she was beautiful and at peace. she was no longer in pain and she was holding hands with God. she told me i had nothing to worry about - my daughter felt absolutely perfect. she was right. morgan looked as if she was falling asleep...her eyes were partially open and she looked like she did when it was snuggle time just before bed. her daddy was holding her when i got there and he looked up at me with what has to be the most concentrated, pure and raw grief i have ever seen. his eyes still haunt me.
my baby girl was wrapped up in her blankie and she was still so warm. i snuggled her up and buried my face into her neck and pleaded with her "please let me see your smile one last time. i didn't know the last one was the last one. i didn't cherish it long enough. i didn't know i would never see it again. i need to see your goofy smile one final time - please just wake up and smile. just one smile would save my heart from breaking into a thousand pieces." i don't know how long we sat there passing her back and forth, kissing her fat cheeks, smelling her yummy baby smell, stroking her soft skin. just waiting for a smile that never came.
i remember refusing to go back into that room of sorrow. i couldn't breathe in there. the grief was literally suffocating. i couldn't look at my mother knowing that her inability to console me had cost her something she couldn't afford to give up. i'm not a wallower. i need to move, i need to breathe. i headed outside to stand overlooking the hills. i felt the cold breeze on my face and thought, "i woke up this morning with my girl, tonight i will go to bed no longer a mother." it was the clearest, most awful moment of my life. how do you go about your life when your main reason for it is so suddenly taken away?
Christmas was 3 days later and we half-heartedly went ahead with our plans. it was to be morgan's first Christmas and there were so many gifts for her - what do you do, shove them all away in the closet? leave them under the tree unopened? some were pulled and shoved away, some sat unopened. i left the room a couple of times as it hit me that my baby girl would never shred Christmas paper, she would never play in the empty boxes. she was truly gone and my life felt completely void of anything but excruciating grief.
i think the hardest part for me was looking at the world around me go on as if nothing had changed. for most of them, it hadn't. not their fault, just something i was so totally aware of. driving down the road, seeing people in their cars just living their lives - happy, mad, whatever...they were still living, i no longer felt that i was. another obstacle was overhearing moms yelling at their kids. hearing kids crying. looking at the people who didn't deserve to still have their babies when mine was gone. why mine and not theirs? the one thing i needed was a reason - and there was none. never have i been more sure of the fact that i could give a shit if tomorrow never came. i dreaded tomorrow. tomorrow meant pain. tomorrow brought numbness and tears. tomorrow brought memories, but tomorrow also began to erase her face a little more everyday.
i never returned to our home - never, not one time. my friend kathy and my SIL monica went in and packed up everything. it was a wonderful gesture that i didn't really appreciate until later. i didn't want any of it - i wanted to walk away from everything that morgan ever touched, ever looked at, ever thought about. i had no need for any of it. later of course, i was grateful to have everything i could get ahold of. there is only one thing i've never been able to face in 18 years. kathy had a saved message on her answering machine from the week before morgan died. we had called her for some reason and i gave morgan the phone to let her "talk". kathy tells me that they are the sweetest sounds she's ever heard - i still can't listen to them.
morgan's funeral isn't incredibly clear. we had her cremated, as the thought of my child laying in the ground was absolutely unbearable to me. her favorite little white bear was cremated alongside her - weird, i know - i just didn't want to send her in there all alone. at the funeral, [for which, her daddy gets full credit - he did everything, all i did was sorta show up] there was the smallest casket i had ever seen. like for a doll. i remember a story the pastor told about watching morgan drift over the horizon on a boat...he said that we were seeing her depart, but that, at the exact same time, others were watching her arrive. whoa.
when it was over i remember walking to the front of the room, turning and seeing hundreds of people...sitting, standing - they were packed into this room, two days after Christmas, on this most unfestive of all days - showing their love, their support and their grief. it hit me that she had affected every single one of these people in her 10 short months; imagine what she could have done in 10 decades. i remember feeling an actual smile at that.
i had a dream about a month after she died...it's hazy now, but i know that in my dream i was looking for her and couldn't find her. i was running around the house calling for her, getting increasingly panicked - i thought she was hiding from me. i yelled for my mom and when she came into the room i asked her where morgan was. she looked at me, smiled and pointed over behind a big table, "she's right there shawna, she's been there the whole time." i looked over at her and she showered me with the greatest smile i've ever seen. the relief i felt was almost unbearable...and interestingly, it continued to flow through me even after i woke up. something had changed - she had touched me. i have no doubts that she had come to me in her way and reassured me that she would never really be gone. i began to heal.
it's been 18 years since i bore that little 10 pound girl, 18 years since i looked at her in awe and wondered what in the hell i had done to deserve such a gift. it has been just over 17 years since i last saw her, but december 22 isn't a day of mourning for me. it's a day of remembrance and a day of love. it's a day that changed my life. it's a day that made me a better person, and more importantly a better mom. it's a day that i thank God for the days that He gave me with her. i wouldn't trade any of them, not even december 22, 1990.
pictures!
been dorkin on my computer - GASP! so unlike me...
anyway downloaded a few pics, thought i'd share...YAY! this is a red-tail hawk hanging out off d's deck in isabella. not a great shot cause i'm a klutz and tripped over something (my own damn foot maybe?) and skeered him off. hey, whatever homer.
here is one of the gorgeous foxes eating some nasty meat and flour tortillas (a mexican fox?). their coats are incredibly beautiful - what you can't see is bozzie and mama growling at him all badass from the otherside of the door. yea so tough.
one of coyotes we saw out playing one morning in isabella...
there were 4 of them and they were a hoot to watch -
chasing each other around just like puppies - all rolling
around and tripping each other up, hunkering down behind
sage only to jump out when another stumbled by. this one
came down the path right off d's deck. he watched us for a
bit and then trotted up the hill to meet the others as they
went off on a walk.
here are some perty irises that are blooming now - i need to dick with my cammie more - i have no clue what the hell i'm doing LOL. the one on the right is done with a macro (a what?) and my 70-300 lens. beyond that, i got nuttin LOL! they are pretty though.
anyway downloaded a few pics, thought i'd share...YAY! this is a red-tail hawk hanging out off d's deck in isabella. not a great shot cause i'm a klutz and tripped over something (my own damn foot maybe?) and skeered him off. hey, whatever homer.
here is one of the gorgeous foxes eating some nasty meat and flour tortillas (a mexican fox?). their coats are incredibly beautiful - what you can't see is bozzie and mama growling at him all badass from the otherside of the door. yea so tough.
one of coyotes we saw out playing one morning in isabella...
there were 4 of them and they were a hoot to watch -
chasing each other around just like puppies - all rolling
around and tripping each other up, hunkering down behind
sage only to jump out when another stumbled by. this one
came down the path right off d's deck. he watched us for a
bit and then trotted up the hill to meet the others as they
went off on a walk.
here are some perty irises that are blooming now - i need to dick with my cammie more - i have no clue what the hell i'm doing LOL. the one on the right is done with a macro (a what?) and my 70-300 lens. beyond that, i got nuttin LOL! they are pretty though.
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
***sigh***
i'm in deep mourning for my boy brett. i'll always be a packer's fan, don't get me wrong, but it will be a whole different game without him. wah. i just love him, his dedication and loyalty to the game of football, as well as to his family; his values and his sense of humor; his ability to scare the beejebus outta me with 25 seconds to go in the 4th quarter.
no one (not even you fleck) can watch him play and not see his absolute adoration of the game. so here's to you farrv-vara, you will be so missed. did i already say wah?
wah.
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