A Tragic Road Tale

Rabbit was busy in his garden when he heard a screech of some kind and a thump. Then quiet. “Odd” he thought. “I wonder what that was.” He went back to his garden, but was troubled by the strange noises and decided to go have a look. When he got to the road, he was shocked to see his old friend Armadillo on his back, barely moving his legs. Rabbit rushed up to Armadillo and cried “Armadillo!!! Armadillo? What happened? Are you hurt?” And then he saw the blood leaking out from his friends shell.

“Oh NOOOO! Armadillo, can you hear me? What happened?”  Armadillo whispered “Oh Rabbit. I was just crossing the road when something big and fast swerved to my side and hit me very hard. I think I am broken inside, and I think I am dying. Please get my family?”

Rabbit dragged Armadillo to the grass on the side of the road and ran off to Armadillo’s burrow. “Mrs. Armadillo, come quickly! Armadillo has been hurt. He is very weak.” Mrs. Armadillo heard Rabbit's words and for a moment was confused. Hurt? How? Weak? “Rabbit, are you sure?”

“Yes. He was hit by something big and fast, and now he says he is dying. Please come quickly.” So Mrs. Armadillo called her children and they all ran after Rabbit. When they got to the road, Armadillo was very, very weak, and whispered only “I love you all. Please remember me”, and he died. When the news spread, Armadillo’s friends came from all over to help his family and to grieve with them.

When Rabbit got home that night, his children sat around him and asked “Daddy, why was Armadillo hit by that big and fast moving thing? He was a kind and gentle animal. He was a generous neighbor. We are so sad, and so angry. Why Daddy, why?”  Rabbit thought for a while and finally said “Children, dying is something we all do eventually. We die of old age or sickness or in the maws of a predator. These ways of dying we accept and understand. But Armadillo was murdered by a thoughtless animal who was directing the beast that killed him. There is no way to know why. Animals like these are around all the time, and they kill us for no reason at all. You must always be on the lookout for these animals, called MAN, and avoid them. They have no sense of right and wrong, and are little more than beasts themselves. We will grieve for our good friend and neighbor Armadillo, but we must learn a lesson. If we do that, he will not have died in vain.”

That night, all the children who knew the Armadillo family were told of the terrible animals called MAN, and warned to be wary. But one young rabbit had a different idea. More on that later.

Image: http://www.asergeev.com/pictures/archives/2006/545/jpeg/10.jpg

BMFR Finds a Home, Finally

 For several years, actually since the Geology Department was unfortunately scrapped at TU, the BMFR has lived with us. First at Rainbow Farm, and now at Rainbow Rise.
The BMFR was adopted by several geology students and presented to Prof. McWilliams for use in class or for the fun of it. Both are great reasons to rescue this rock from the Wilds. When the department was disbanded, many of the specimens found their way to RBF and thence to RBR where the prevailing thought was "I WILL find something to use these for." And all had been used, except the BMFR. Why? Hard to handle for an OF is one reason. But that OF got it in place this morning. The better reason was it needed to be in the perfect place to display and to function, the way all rocks want to live. When we decided to raise the waterfall outflow, suddenly the BMFR said "Hey, numbnuts!! (Rocks like this talk like that) I would be the PERFECT rock for the waterfall to feed into  the pond. Just put me on an angle and I will do the rest." Well, that was a splendid suggestion, so I said "Okay GRAVEL BREATH, you are on."
And this morning it happened. As I slid the BMFR into place and adjusted the hight, I swear I could hear a murmur of contentment. When the water started to flow, I did hear a sigh of relief.
The BMFR has finally found a home.
Images: BMFR portraits by Woody.

She said “The Moron in Your Head.”

This morning I was telling Sally the text of a dream from last night. Dreams are funny things, no? Bits of reality strung together with ridiculous images and ideas that on reflection often make no sense at all. This one was based loosely on a problem created by the Franklin County road department when they paved the road in front of our lot. They raised the road bed quite a bit, which when added to the deep swale made the driveway a steep dip. So steep that any trailer over about 10 feet would bottom out going in or out, and longer ones would hang. The road department has yet to respond.

The dream took that premise and changed the location of the lot. Not unusual for dreams. So here I was, driving up the road that isn’t there, noticing all the road work on driveway bibs. When I get to mine, I see that the road guys cut the pavement away from the bib, removed my 10 foot gate and fence (always locked), filled the ditch to a slight taper, and built two concrete block gate posts about 15 feet into the property to be used for a new gate. No fence, no gate. And all of this seemed okay, as dreams often do, until I noticed that the “gate posts” were only 7 feet apart, not nearly enough to get any good sized boat or camper through.

Now here comes reality again. As I was telling Sally about the dream, I got to the part where I noticed the posts being 7 feet apart, and reacting as if this were a real event, I said to her “What kind of Moron would put gate posts 7 feet apart?”

And she said “The Moron in your head”. Suddenly, I went from telling about a dream to having a resident moron. And you know what? We all have one. Sometimes the moron just plays with dreams and makes up the most bizarre stuff. Conflates things not related, invents impossible tasks and solutions and creates totally unrealistic situations. Those are not problems as long as you recognize the moron at work. (And sometimes you wake yourself up when things get so strange even your sleeping brain knows things are getting really stupid.)

The real problem is when the moron in your head manifests in real life, when you make snap judgments about people or situations, or when you make stupid decisions without considering the consequences. The reality is that we all have a moron in our heads waiting to manifest. So beware, you have a moron in your head. 

Thanks to Sally for putting a name and face on mine. And you are welcome for me putting a name and face on yours.

Image: http://www.bolgernow.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/caution_moron_alert.jpg

A Bully or Not? You Decide.

Big Bully? 

A young rabbit was out one afternoon for a romp with his friends when a new animal pushed into the game. “Give me the stick or I’ll bite you” he said to the rabbit. “If you want to play with us you should say so and we will be glad to have you join” replied the rabbit. Well, that didn’t sit too well with the young nutria, so he pushed the rabbit and bit his tail. “Now GIMMIE THAT STICK YOU DUMB BUNNY!!!” he screamed.

Rabbit didn’t know what to do. His tail was a bit bloody from the bite and he hurt his paw when he fell. His friends were too  surprised  to do anything. The nutria took the game stick and ambled off to play by himself. A friend of the rabbit, a small cotton rat, ran over and said “RABBIT!! Are you hurt badly?” “No, said the rabbit, just my pride. I let that nutria bully me without even saying anything.”

The next time the youngsters were playing, the same thing happened, only this time the cotton rat got pushed and bitten. Nobody did or said anything, and the bully just ambled away, snickering to himself as he went. Just when he was out of sight, they heard a loud growl and a cry for help. What could it be, they all thought. The rabbit was the first to run to see what was going on, followed by his sister, the cotton rat, a young mink, a garter snake and a possum. Soon they found out what was happening: A stray dog had cornered the nutria in a small stump and was digging him out. “HELP!” cried the nutria. “HELP HELP!!”

At first the friends didn’t move,  but then the rabbits’s sister said “HEY DOG!!! BET YOU CAN’T CATCH ME. YAH YAH YA YAH YAH!” and off she ran. Then the other friends all called out to the dog almost at the same time “NO! CATCH ME!!!!” and they all ran off in different directions. The dog started to chase one then another and then another, but got so confused he gave up and, tail between his legs, ran away. He forgot all about the nutria.

When the friends came back to the stump, the nutria was still there, crying. “You nearly got eaten” said the young mink. “Yeah, you big bully. We should have just left you.” Said the garter snake. “Why didn’t you?” asked the nutria. “I was mean to you all and you still came to help me. I don’t understand.” “Well, said the possum, we have been practicing escaping for quite a while. We never tried it before, but IT WORKS!!!” “Hey nutria” said the cotton rat. “Why are you such a big bully?”  The nutria told his story: “I was born in the swamp and was teased by the muskrats until I hid away, and finally ran away. I haven’t had much chance to play or even talk to other kids, so I just acted mean to protect myself from teasing. I am sorry that I pushed and bit you rabbit. And you too cotton rat. I just don’t know what else to do.” And he hung his head, turned and walked away.

The other kids talked for a minute and then the rabbit yelled “WAIT!! We will let you play with us if you promise to follow the rules, and not be a bully anymore.. I know how mean those muskrats can be. They were always pushing me around in school. My family finally moved to get away from them.”  The nutria stopped and looked back to see all the friends agreeing with the rabbit. He turned around and said “I will try my very best to be a good friend.”

And he did. And he was.

Image: http://watershedtexas.files.wordpress.com/2014/01/546px-myocastor_coypus_standing.jpg

The Bible as a Textbook or, The Lord Helps Him who Helps Himself.

Years ago I started a class in zoology as I started most other classes. I told the students that there would be reading assignments in the text, that the text was an important ancillary to the class, and I asked if they all had gotten their book. One student held up a well-worn Bible and said “this is the only book I need.” Ok, I thought, no point in getting into an argument here. I had a brief conversation with the student after class, and he reaffirmed that he didn’t need a textbook because he could find all he needed in his Bible.

He came to class regularly after that and listened to the discussions on various animal groups and the evolutionary processes at work. He didn’t interact much with me or other students. He was home schooled. When I graded the first exam, all essay questions, he failed. His paper was nearly blank. A few snippets remembered from class, but nothing more. I asked him to talk to me after class, and he affirmed that he would not be buying a textbook, and that he would do much better on the next exam.

He failed every quiz and exam, and failed the class. He never lost his faith that he would in the end pass, and his faith in this regard failed him. I have had other very religious students over the years, and they have done as well as others. I had a young man take my Evolution course who started out on the first day by saying to the class “I am a Christian. I don’ believe in Evloution. I believe that God made everything you see as you see it.” He had a Bible with him, and he also had the textbook. He worked hard, did well and passed with an”A”, never believing a thing he learned. But learn he did.

I have no idea what happened to the first student. He disappeared after that term and I never saw him again. The other, though, went on to FSU and graduated with a degree in Biology. He is now a Chiropractor I think. Good student with a good mind. And there is a moral here: The Lord Helps Him who Helps Himself.

I have had hundreds of students tell me before an exam “I prayed that I will do well on this test.” Some did and some didn’t. My answer was always the same: “I hope you studied too.”

Images: https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK99RMJxPce6IfKtsB8ROpWOQyEGW-qc_v2xe_f_xCmVJC18U2BSeFodym4rBxFfk-3PuB-YtkIyqR4qWwGur61cIIwiDqI6Yn0uQpJEx7L4upUAeoNRHfMTIQnHqwKfiW11s4UrOEfmeK/s1600/bibletextbutton2.jpg

http://iloveyoubutyouregoingtohell.files.wordpress.com/2012/05/kanawha-county-i-have-my-bible.jpg

A Tale of Bravery and Compassion

Unlikely Friends

One day a young rabbit was playing near the woods when he noticed a rustling in the bushes nearby. He went to investigate and found a baby hawk, weak from struggling, caught in the branches. The rabbit ran home and found Grandpa Rabbit and asked him to go with him to help the baby. Grandpa said “Boy, hawks are the enemy of all Rabbits. They are PREDATORS who kill and eat our kind. We do not help them. Go away.” and he promptly fell asleep.

The young rabbit was really upset and confused by his Grandpa’s response, and went to find his mother. When he told his story, his mother said the same thing that his Grandpa had said. “Hawks are the enemy. Stay far away from that baby.” “But mother, the baby hawk isn’t an enemy. And if we help it, couldn’t it become our Friend?”  “No”, said Mother. “It is the hawk’s nature to kill and eat rabbits. They cannot change that. Best leave the baby to its fate.”

Well, thought the young rabbit, nuts to that. So he ran back to the woods and found the baby hawk, weaker still, and heard a high keening sound. He looked around and found a young Mother Hawk sitting on a rock, crying. He crept up and said “Why are you so sad?” Well, the young hawk was at first startled then angry at the nerve of this young rabbit. “Leave me alone you fur ball. I have lost my only baby and I am very, very upset.” The rabbit said “Lady, I know where your baby is, and I will take you there if you promise not to kill and eat me.” The hawk promised and rabbit led her to the bush, in time for her to save her baby.

Later that week rabbit was again playing near the wood when a shadow slipped over him. As he looked up a hawk flew straight at him, talons out. “I am caught” he thought. But no, the hawk landed next to him and stared for a moment. “You are the rabbit who led me to my baby, are you not?” “Yes” whispered the rabbit is a tremulous voice. “Please don’t kill me?”

“Kill you?” said the hawk. “I have been looking for you for days to thank you for saving my baby. You did a very brave thing. And I realize that although it is the nature of Hawks to kill rabbits, I have decided to become the protector of all the rabbits in my territory, and keep others from hunting you. Maybe we can learn to live in peace.”

The rabbit was so relieved and happy that he actually hugged the hawk. Later, when he told his grandfather what had happened, Grandpa just said “Harumph. Can’t get a hawk to change its feathers”, and went back to sleep. But a funny thing happened. For many years, no rabbits were killed by hawks, and some swore that they saw a rabbit and hawk walking and talking together near the woods.

Image: http://www.birds-wallpapers.com/bird/wild-hawk-rabbit.jpg

Tortoise Gets Helped, and Gets a Lesson

Miz Possum with babies and mushrooms

Tortoise got up one morning and decided to visit his grandmother. She was getting slow in her old age and needed some help getting her burrow ready for winter. On the way to her field, Tortoise stopped to munch on a few fresh mushrooms and thought “Hmm. I bet Granny would like some of these”. The problem was that he didn’t bring a sack to carry them in, and he knew they would never balance on his shell all the way to her place. He fretted for a minute or two and decided that he would never be able to get them to her, so he began to walk away from the patch. Just then, Miz Possum came by with her babies and said “Good morning Tortoise! Isn’t it a FINE DAY!”

Well, Tortoise was not in a very good mood, and Miz Possum’s cheeriness annoyed him. He mumbled “Morning Miz Possum, and no, it isn’t a FINE DAY! I am on the way to Granny’s burrow and can’t bring her any of these fresh mushrooms because I didn't bring a sack.” 

Miz Possum just laughed and climbed on Tortoises shell and said “Oh Tortoise, after all the things you have done for the folks in this valley, surely you wouldn’t mind if I helped you?” Tortoise was puzzled by this. He always helped others when they needed help, but he had never needed help, and didn’t like to ask for help anyway. He said “ Miz Possum, how can you help me?” Miz Possum explained that since her babies were now riding on her back, she could pick some mushrooms, stuff them in her empty pouch, and ride to Granny’s burrow on Tortoise’s shell to keep from crushing the delicate caps. Tortoise said “But Miz Possum, weren’t you on your way to do something? Can you take the time to help me with something as unimportant as a few mushrooms for Grannie?”

“PASH” cried Miz Possum. “Helping a friend isn’t a matter of degree, it is a matter of desire and duty. If you need help getting mushrooms over to your Granny’s burrow, I will take the time to help you. Simple. You are the most unselfish critter hereabouts, and we all love and respect you, so why wouldn’t I help you?”

As Miz Possum went about gathering some mushrooms and putting them in her pouch, Tortoise watched over the tumbling youngsters and thought about that and finally said, “Thank you Miz Possum. You know that I never help folks with reward in mind, don’t you? I just like to see folks safe and happy, and am good at some things. I am not very good at carrying things without a bag, though, so your help is most welcomed” and off they went.

When the got to Granny’s burrow, Granny exclaimed “Why Miz Possum, do you have another pouch full of adorable babies?”  “No” said Miz Possum, “I have a pouch full of delicious mushrooms just for YOU!!” Granny took the mushrooms inside, made a wonderful soup, and they all had a tasty lunch.

Image: https://c2.staticflickr.com/4/3631/3636133248_3e939de23e.jpg

A Tale of Nonsense and Friendship, or, Never Give Up.

Old Friends

Rabbit was out for a hop, when a coyote jumped out and grabbed him by the rear leg. He pulled and pulled, and finally pulled free and ran away to a hiding place he knew. When he got there he was bleeding badly and weak from blood loss. He knew he would never see his family again, and moaned softly as he lay dying.

Tortoise was passing by when he heard a moaning sound, and walked into the crevice as far as he could go to see what was going on. At once he saw his friend Rabbit, bloody and unmoving, but he couldn’t reach him. “Rabbit” he called!! “RABBIT!!!!” When he received no answer he knew he had to do something fast because although Rabbit was breathing, he looked like he was dying. So Tortoise picked up a nearby stick and poked Rabbit, all the time calling “Rabbit wake up.” “Rabbit WAKE UP!!” 

Rabbit moaned again and looked up and saw his friend and said “Tortoise, tell my family I love them.” Tortoise said “Tell them yourself! You think I will leave you here to die?” “But Tortoise, I can’t get home and I am dying.” “Nonsense” said Tortoise, “You just have to get on my shell and I will take you home.” “I can’t. I am too weak. The bleeding has stopped and I think I am out of blood.”

Well, Tortoise was really worried, but decided the best thing to do was not to let his friend know, so he just said “Nonsense. If you were out of blood you would be dead, and you are clearly not. Come on, wiggle yourself to the end of the crevice and I will get you home.” Rabbit panted a minute and then tried to move. And he DID move! Not much, but some. Not enough. Tortoise said “Come on Rabbit. I haven’t got all day you know.” So Rabbit tried again and moved again. And he tried again and moved again, and this time he was close enough to Tortoise so Tortoise could grab his tail and pull him out of the crevice.

“WAIT!!” cried Rabbit. "The coyote will get me now that I am not in my hiding place." “Nonsense” said Tortoise, “We will get you on my shell and get you home, and coyote better not mess with me or I’ll bite his paws off.”  Rabbit then tried to climb onto Tortoise's shell but was too weak.
“Hmm,” thought Tortoise,” remembering the time he helped Dove, "I will have to dig a pit next to Rabbit so he can roll onto my shell.” And so he did. And when Rabbit saw what he was doing, for the first time he felt a shiver of hope. When the hole was deep enough, Rabbit rolled onto Tortoise's shell and off they went, slowly but surely to Rabbits house.  When they arrived sometime later, Rabbits wife  screamed when she saw the blood and hugged Rabbit fiercely. “Ow. That hurt.” Said Rabbit. Tortoise and Mrs. Rabbit helped Rabbit into the house, got him on his bed and Mrs. Rabbit started to clean his wounds. Tortoise was forgotten, and slowly walked away.

He didn’t get very far before Mrs. Rabbit and all her children surrounded him, hugging and kissing and saying “THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU.  You saved him. We will never forget this act of kindness and courage.” Tortoise said “Nonsense. Rabbit would have done the same for me. I was just helping out a friend from a bit of trouble.” And off he went.

But WE know what a brave and loyal friend tortoise was. Tortoise knew and WE  know the coyote could have killed them both, and WE know that Tortoise was a hero.

 And since then, rabbits and tortoises have always been friends.  

Image: http://www.distractify.netdna-cdn.com/wp-content/uploads//2014/08/tortoise-hare-620x.jpg

Kicked in the Balls? Kick Back!

Hiroshima. One bomb did this.

My first real job was at NVCC in Annandale, Va.  My boss was George T. and he was from West (by God) Virginia. We got on really well, peer to peer, and one day he was venting over something that CFO had done. He put it exactly like this: “I don’t mind when they shit on my head, but it really pisses me off when they rub it in.” Old West (by God) Virginia saying, he said.

Well, the terrorists have shit on the heads of the free world a lot lately, and now they have rubbed it in. In fact, they have Kicked America in the BALLS and laughed about it. They have executed a Son of the Country in the most brutal way, and threatened more of the same. And they expect us to bow and scrape and go away.

BALLS TO THAT is my opinion. Mr. President, time to show us your “package” and bomb these bastards into oblivion. If you think the liberals of the country won’t back you on this, all I can say is that I am one liberal who would. Boots on the ground? No, I don’t want that. But if it takes an invasion to wipe these Mothers off the Face of the Earth, then the whole of the rest of the world better pony up some invaders. A Crusade would be nice. And not some half-assed crappy punitive raid either. The Full Monty.

Image: http://www.worldwar2database.com/sites/default/files/wwii1228.jpg

Sly.

Sly: Crafty or cunning; or, short for Sylvia or Sylvester.

"Vicki and Me celebrating her remission."

I always wondered why some people were called “Sly” when the connotations were not often thought of as nice. People would say “he is a sly bastard” and mean cunning or tricky. Sly Stallone, was he a cunning and tricky bastard? Sly Matthews, was she a cunning and tricky bastard. No, to me she was a warm woman with a generous streak a mile wide who loved to read and liked good beer from time to time.

I “met” her in a strange way though Nicola Griffith. I read all of Nicola's novels and commented on her web page and subsequently joined a Yahoo group started by Nicola. I shared a few things and Sly and a few others responded. Sly was always good for a book recommendation or a comment on something I had written. One of the early memories of Sly was her explaining how "Sylvia" became "Sly". She told me people constantly misspelled "Sylvia" so she just gave up and became "Sly".

 It is really interesting how meeting people has migrated to include ethereal contacts over vast distances of every imaginable metric, and how some of those met in the cyber sphere are friends like others met in person. Some, indeed, better.
The plan to share an hour or two with Sly and to share a brew are now history, and the friendship is now memory. Fond memories to be sure.

Thanks to NG and KE for keeping the list alive, and to all my friends on the list. Sal and I raised a glass (or two) last night to Sly.  It would be a pleasure to not only raise a glass “to” you all, but with you as well. Who knows, maybe someday?

Image: Sly’s Facebook album