Some well-meaning (maybe) woman recently said this to a young mother I know:
Hunters sometimes find themselves among the hunted. My son B learned this lesson recently.
B went to a valley a few miles from his home in a northwest mountainous state to bow-hunt deer. He stalked quietly through a wooded area on the edge of a large open meadow, just to take the lay of the land and decide where to put his pop-up deer blind.
Suddenly, he was looking into the eyes of a large mountain lion about 25 yards away. He realized his bow and arrows lay on the ground in a clearing behind him. He reached for his bear pepper spray, but the belt was empty; he usually carries it only when he goes up into the mountains. He had not brought a pistol. He opened his pocket knife, which has a three-inch blade, and thought about its insignificance.
He and the lion stared at each other for a moment, and then the lion glided away into the trees and brush. Quite relieved, B went on with his setting up, about twenty yards out of the woods in the edge of the meadow. Before long, a group of deer wandered into the meadow to graze. B watched them, hoping they would come his direction, and readied his bow.
Mountain lions are an endangered, protected species that range mostly throughout the western United States and parts of Florida, according to an Internet search. An adult lion can grow to seven-eight feet long, from nose to tail, and weigh between 120 and 180 pounds. Mountain lions are said to be highly effective predators that consistently kill larger animals, such as deer and elk, and unprotected livestock.
They are territorial; a male lion may rule over as much as 100 square miles. They often attack people or other animals that come too close to their food stashes. Silently stalking their prey, mountain lions usually attack from behind after a short, fast sprint.
Two yearling deer, too young to shoot, meandered past B’s blind, about fifteen feet away. One stopped to graze, and the other walked into the edge of the woods behind B. After a few seconds, the young deer burst out of the woods with the mountain lion in hot pursuit. The two young deer and the others outran the lion. It sank onto its haunches and watched them disappear into the distance.
Then the lion turned and stalked back toward the edge of the woods, passing close to B’s blind. It stopped to stare at him; this time he had the bow ready. Then B yelled, “Git! Go on, cat! Get out of here!” But the tawny animal just lowered to its haunches and continued to watch him, unafraid. Then it rose and disappeared into the woods.
A few minutes later, B had a sudden realization that the mountain lion was frustrated and hungry, probably even then watching him from the cover of the brush, waiting for the right moment to attack him. He would not have known the lion was still there if the yearling deer had not wandered into the woods.
He thought about his family and his life and his chances of fighting off a full-grown mountain lion, and it was not worth the risk. So he took out his sharp, long-bladed skinning knife for defense if needed, and rolled up stakes and ropes and deer blind; he put on his backpack, hoping to look very large and frightening, and made his way to his pickup.
On his way home, he thought about the beauty of the animal, its rippling muscles and fearless grace. And he understood a little better the fear of the hunted. He realized how unusual it is for a human to be a close witness to such an encounter. Next time, he would take a gun--and a camera.
Picture and information borrowed from National Geographic website.
Today is October first, my father’s birthday. If he were still alive, he would be ninety-eight today. He died in 1988. My mother is younger; she’s only ninety-three.
A couple of days ago, my mother and I talked about his upcoming birthday. We used to always ask him what kind of cake he wanted. He answered, “Oh, I think I’d like to have either an applesauce cake or a banana nut cake--you decide.” We knew he’d say that, and we made one or the other for him.
After I got married and moved away, I still asked, and if we weren’t going to be together, I would make a loaf cake--applesauce or banana nut--and mail it to him. Once the banana nut cake I made collapsed in the middle, for some unknown reason, into a gooey mess. My husband and I ate the outside edges, and I mailed my dad an applesauce cake, which he said he liked.
When we talked about these things the other day, I said, “Let’s have a cake in remembrance of him.” And we did. This morning while I cooked breakfast, I made a banana nut cake, in cupcake form. I bought some cream cheese frosting to go on top. Mother and I had hamburgers for lunch, and then we iced up the cupcakes.
I was about ready to take a bite, when Mother lifted one slightly gnarled index finger, ready to direct. She had a mischievous smile, and I understood. We sang the birthday song--a loud version. And then we laughed, remembered him, and ate our cupcakes. He would have liked the walnuts.
I am spending this week in the northern mountains. My son and daughter-in-law have a new baby girl, one week old yesterday. She has lots of very dark hair and dark eyes; she's very different from her big (19 months old--not very big) sister, who is quite fair and blonde with bright blue eyes.
She has a hard time staying awake long enough to eat before she falls asleep again--unless, of course, it is three o'clock in the morning.
I haven't seen them in a year because we live so far apart, all the way across the nation. But from now on, I am going to make sure I see them more often. A year is too long a time to miss in the life of a little girl.
Creating new lives is one of God's most marvelous miracles.
This is a picture of my brother, my mother and me, ready for church; it was taken about 1956.
This is a picture of my mother, age 91 (on the right), and her sister, age 93.
I thank God that several of my cousins came and brought my aunt to see my mother in June, even if it was only for a few hours; we all had a very special time together.
My mother had been afraid she might never see her sister again, her last surviving sibling of a total of eight. My aunt had a stroke about two weeks after this picture was taken, and she died in September.
I believe God cares about our fears, our love for other people, and our need to see them.
And here are the two boys who caused such a hubbub two years ago (see the mamas in the previous entry)!
In this picture, they are watching "Thomas the Train." This is a little pacifier-sucking togetherness before bedtime. I think they were about 15 months old at this time.
The cute and perfect dark-haired grandson on the left is my daughter's and the cute and perfect brown-haired grandson is my son's. Grandchildren are some of God's best blessings--we have eight now.
My daughter (left) and my daughter-in-law had babies two days apart. That was in June, two years ago.
That was a wild time. They live two hundred miles apart. We were running like crazy, needing to be in both places.
1. This morning, my husband went out on the deck as usual to feed our wild cat that will have nothing to do with us other than eat our cat food.
2. He said, “Come look at this.”
3. I went out to see. Near one of our hummingbird feeders, a ruby-throated hummingbird was almost swinging back and forth, apparently flying.
4. Then it stopped and one little wing was pointing straight up. After a few seconds, it took off again, going nowhere but swinging back and forth.
5. We finally realized that its wing was caught in a spider web behind the feeder, stretching from the eave of the house to a large plant nearby.
6. Hmm, how to rescue a hummingbird from a spider web without injuring it or causing it to have a nervous breakdown?
7. My husband got hold of the web about six inches above the bird and pulled it away from the house. As soon as the web was broken, the hummingbird was freed.
8. It flew away as fast as it possibly could, with nary a peep of thanks.
9. We almost never go out on the deck early in the morning; we’re too busy getting ready for work. My husband usually sticks out his head and hand only far enough to dump out cat food.
10. God cared enough about that tiny hummingbird to get us outside on the deck to see its need. I think I see a little lesson here. If God cared that much about a bird, wouldn’t he likely be very concerned, caring, and loving about us, who are created in his image?
11. In Luke 12, I find two passages about birds; those who have ears, let them hear:
12. Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.
13. Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. Life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?
Here is one of my favorite pictures of our latest granddaughter, being grabby.
We went vacationing with our daughter and four grandchildren. Our grandson had a coughing bug, and since we were all in very close quarters, we all caught it. We came home and the next weekend, thinking I was getting better, I went off to a literary conference.
By the time I got home, I was sick as a dog, coughing constantly. So that Monday, I went to the doctor and discovered that I had pneumonia. After five days in the hospital and two weeks of lying around, I am finally on the mend, thank the Lord!
A few months ago, we noticed our calico cat Berry was acting strangely; she was sitting very still except for her tail, which she twitched excitedly. We discovered that she was focused on a large rattlesnake curled up next to a pot of ivy on our deck.
It was a stand-off. She stayed about fifteen feet away from the snake. It was raised up in the striking position and its rattles were buzzing a soft warning to her.
We are always prepared for snakes, since we live several miles out of town. Usually, though, we see copperheads. This rattlesnake was kind enough to wait while my husband loaded his shotgun and went out to get a bead on its head.
“Do you care if I destroy your flower pot?” he asked me. I assured him I would gladly sacrifice the pot to get rid of the snake.
His dead-eye aim proved accurate, and he blew its head off. It writhed around for about thirty minutes, a gruesome sight. I took the picture after it finally decided to be dead. The snake had nine rattles.
The flower pot survived, but the deck has a dent in it.
The National Geographic web site has an interesting snake feature, at this linked site. You’ll see a fascinating photo essay with enough scary snakes to make you want to look under your chair.
You never know which pacifier you might need at any given moment, so you have to be prepared at all times.
I have a question.
I understand that the divorce rate is high, and probably nothing is going to change that. But even so--there are ways to sacrifice some selfish motives and “needs” to see that children are loved, wanted, and cared for. That’s the least a parent can do.
Wow! Would you look at that!!?My brother Jim is a pilot. He wrote an essay about amazing things he has seen while he is in the air--"Running Rendezvous with Mother Nature." He says God is the master artist and craftsman of these phenomena. Jim gave me permission to share some of this with you. For example, here is a paragraph from his essay, about rainbows seen from above the earth:
The most unforgettable sight associated with clouds is a rainbow. When unencumbered by close proximity to terra firma, it appears majestically in a full, perfect circle. I have seen it only three times in nearly forty years of flying. Conditions must be just right: sun behind, altitude between five and twenty thousand feet, high humidity. It appears on the clouds ahead, possibly two miles in diameter. The full spectrum of colors is there, more vivid than I thought possible. As the aircraft comes nearer to the clouds, the rainbow becomes smaller, to a minimum of approximately one-half mile. The individual bands of color grow even more vivid. As the aircraft scores a perfect bull’s-eye on the rainbow, the nearest band is a hundred feet wide. I could reach out and touch it with my hand, but I do not have to. It comes inside and fills the cockpit with the soft yellow of daisies. We pass into the cloud and it is gone. No more than two minutes have elapsed, but the memory of such a moving experience lasts a lifetime.
While I was rummaging around looking at old (paper) files, I found a folder of things I wrote down about my children when they were little. Kids say some funny things as they are learning to use logic, and if you listen in on their conversations, you may be entertained. When my kids were about 9 (L), 7 (B), and 5 (M), they had this circular discussion in a busy restaurant during a family vacation somewhere in the Wild West.
The previous entry is another one of their circular discussions.
M: What’s the matter with that man?
B: Did you hear what he said?
L: What?
B: He said a criminal escaped from a prison.
M: What?
B: He said a criminal escaped from a prison.
M: Who said?
B: That man.
M: What did he do?
B: He didn’t do anything. He said something.
L: Who? The man? He means the criminal, B.
B: I don’t know. How am I supposed to know?
M: I don’t know. You said it.
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