Earthlife

Forgetting the Roadkill

Just a few weeks ago as part of our Spring Break activities, we went, as a family, to one of our favorite places, Bays Mountain Park. As we searched out our favorite animals, we stumbled upon an elderly naturalist volunteer as she gently balanced a black vulture upon her forearm. It was the most intriguing fowl. It was big. It was black. It was a vulture. It eats roadkill. It is not the kind of bird that is beloved or even admired. Yet, I was fascinated; for some reason I saw beauty. I saw the majesty of an eagle in this bird. I wanted to hear all about it.

As the natulralist spoke of the vulture with such endearing admiration, it got me thinking about the conversation I had just had with my therapist. He told me that as I understood myself better I would change my outlook of myself. I would learn to love myself and stop my destructive inner conversation. Well, gee, if this bird could be loved by me, why in the world could I not love me? I thought, “I don’t appreciate myself, and I don’t even eat roadkill!”

As I looked at this vulture, I knew my therapist was right. It wasn’t easy to realize that deep down I don’t have enough self regard, but it was true, and I could work to change it. But, how?

This has been the theme in my life lately. How does one change their thought patterns? How do you change the future without changing the past? How do you love a big black bird when all he does is eat roadkill?

I guess the secret lies in the roadkill. The vulture has a useless reputation because he eats roadkill. In fact when people think of vultures, they rarely think of anything besides one sitting up on a wire waiting for its next dead feast. They don’t think that a vulture is made so unique and strong that it can withstand whatever disease it may eat. Everything about a vulture seems to be designed to assist in his one big job….cleaning up the dead in nature. A vulture is uniquely useful, not useless.

This vulture held powerful wisdom for me. What if I quit thinking about my own roadkill and started thinking about my personal majesty? What if I start realizing that God prepared me very specifically? Just as he had designed the vulture, he had designed me. He may not have given me the most majestically known shell, but he designed me to be useful and he designed me to survive. He masterminded me uniquely to not just deal with life, but to soar above the roadkill.

Well, if I start to see those good qualities, those blessings, those unique abilities, then maybe the roadkill could be diminished, or at the least, shrunk back down to its view from the sky. The vulture in me could be admired and endeared. I wouldn’t have to change from a vulture to an eagle. I could just be amazing because I was a vulture. And if no one else saw me for who I was…..my naturalist would. My maker designed me. And when he loves me, and appreciates me, and is amazed when I just perform up to design, how could I not love me?

A cat and a crow

A few years ago, I looked out the window to see about 50 crows hanging out in my backyard. We usually have a few crows, but 50 at once seemed kind of eerie. Eerie is a little understated, it was really a flashback into like viewing the movie Birds as a child.

Upon further observation, the 49 crows were watching over one that was hobbling back and forth along our back fence. After pulling on my big girl panties and convincing myself that the 49 would not attack me and eat me alive, I went out to see what was going on. As if on que at my arrival all 49 crows quickly flew away, abandoning the one. It was just me, the girls, and the crow. The crow could obviously not fly.

The crow tried to hobble away, but was looking rather pathetic. It couldn’t find an escape past our fence….not as smart as the neighborhood rabbits who have several holes or the government housing adolescents who hop right over and through instead of walking around. Kitty Bear had done her damage and with a hubby on permanent law school hiatus, the solution was up to me. Do you have any idea how big and scary crows are when they are hobbling along your fence line and hissing at you?

I went inside and secured a box and a quilt. And if you could have all seen me, scared out of my mind, repeatedly throwing this quilt and missing, you would have been embarrassed for me. I think my girls were a little disappointed in their supermommy’s skills. I finally cotton-lassoed that big black sucker in and then had to figure out how to get the bird filled quilt into the box. I went with the option of putting the box right over the quilt and using as much of the quilt to secure the bird in the box.

The real trick was removing the quilt to securely close the box without removing the bird too. Ahhhhhhh! My writing cannot do justice for the shaking in my bones.

We got in the car and listened to the crow shifting around in the box and making hissing noises. Trust me when I say this crow was not in its right mind. There was no cawing to be found anywhere in Knox County. The 49 other crows flew far far away and our boxed guy could ONLY hiss. I found new meaning to the phrase “pray without ceasing” and counted myself very blessed when we got to the UT Veterinary clinic without any incidence.

Two days later, I received the dreaded call. Despite the clinic’s assurance that they would do everything they could, they couldn’t save that darned crow. The emotional image of a release back to my backyard of freedom almost overtook my soul. What would happen to the other 49 crows who kept coming back to find their friend?

I guess they will have to go do some good elsewhere. Maybe one could watch the following video and take some cat nurturing lessons. I think that Kitty Bear is just a lost little kitten who couldn’t find enough love from that crow. I know she has the heart to make friends.

And now the video that has been sitting in my drafts for the past year.

You all know how I love animals. Well, at least Valerie knows…she always forwards me everything she gets about animals. If you have a few free minutes, watch this video of a crow who mothered a cat. It seriously brought tears to my eyes…I am just kind of funny that way!

Potty Rhyme
Check out this article.
The Japanese think we need more poetry in our public restrooms.
Their studies show it will cut down on t.p. use.
Here is the bathroom rhyme I always learned in California.
Mind you it’s from a drought and environmentalist state:
If it’s yellow, let it mellow,
if it’s brown flush it down.
If I see some stranger’s yellow or brown in a public toilet,
it surely cuts down on my paper use…
it’s called I won’t go anywhere near that toilet,
much less use the paper.
Do you have any un-obscene bathroom poetry that you love?
I love to find a cute or inspiring thing in a bathroom stall.
We should start a sharpie revolution for the environment.

Pimpin out Santa
Hello from me.
I’ve been hibernating.
And, oh, it is so nice to have control over my blog instead of letting it control me.
It’s all about me and if I don’t want to blog I don’t have to.
Here is something I would have blogged in December,
if I felt like writing or blogging or waiting for my archaic technology to load a photo.
I need a reformat.
Well, anyhow.
You know the economy is bad when…
1- Santa is being paid to stand on a street corner.
2- His suit is looking pretty shabby, right down to his rug beard.
3-I was in my car contemplating what I could buy at the pawn shop for the kids for Christmas.
4- After photographing in a hurry, I told LG that this year for Christmas, we each got $5 and had to spend it on each other at the corner pawn shop.
We wouldn’t want Santa to go without a job at Christmas, would we?

Ta Ta’s
Here’s a car magnet I saw while driving around town the other day.
I want to get this cute little saying on a t-shirt.
I’m just a little worried that it might give too much attention to my ta ta’s.
And, that would not be very modest, I’m afraid.
I guess I will just have to settle with adopting the cute little name.


I am thinking about doing the Race for the Cure
to celebrate Debbie McFarland.
She’s the secretary at the girls’ school
and I am happy to report that she has beat breast cancer.
And, I must say that her ta ta’s are looking as good as ever.
Three cheers for modern medicine.
Or should I just give modern medicine just TWO great big cheers?
That may be all it needs to keep on saving those ta ta’s.

Seatbelt Security
I have posted before about some of our family’s seatbelt dialogue.

Here’s another one that happened the other day.
LG: ” Girls put your seatbelts on.
Do you guys want to know why you need to wear your seatbelts?”
Me: “Because you don’t want to die if we crash, that’s why. Now put them on.”
Abigail: “We know mom. You’ve told us that a million times.”
LG: “Yeah, but there’s another reason. I was reading a Reader’s Digest article the other day and it was talking about people who die in car crashes. 90% die because someone wasn’t wearing their seatbelt. And lots of times the person that was wearing their seatbelt died, and the person who wasn’t wearing their seatbelt lived. The person who wasn’t wearing their seatbelt shot out of their seat like a missile and killed the other person. Wouldn’t you feel bad if you killed mom?”
Abigial: “O.k. o.k. I am putting my seatbelt mom. I don’t want to missile you.”
Me: “I don’t want to missile you or miss you either Abigail. Thank you.”

My mom’s advice for the day is:
Scare your kids into wearing their seatbelts.
And, please, please, teach your kindergartners how to take off and put on their own seatbelts, so that I don’t have to wait longer in the school pick up line while you secure your child properly.