For those of you paying attention

In January we had a drop-in guest during that
horrible cold wave (Polar Vortex #1 of 2019).

Do you remember the story?

Do you remember what we named her?

Can you even recall what type of
critter she is?

Well, Click is doing fine, thank you.
Our 'keeper' tells me she healthy
and content, and is on track for a
successful release this spring.

This is happiness.
[sigh]
<3 p="">

It's been a wild week, in more ways than one

It was as though I could feel the biological clock ticking for Click - "Click" being the name we gave our drowsy, confused, nocturnal upstairs-turned-downstairs drop-in house guest. Not knowing whether it was male or female, "Click" seemed the safest moniker to bestow, and, as there were no objections, "Click" it was... er, um... IS.
Oh, yeah, and it's a girl, everybody!
As I was droning:
...every hour labored by, and I grew concerned over how much time was passing, hurting Click's chances for returning successfully to her torpor. Let's face it, a bucket in a cold laundry closet versus wedging oneself between layers of insulation and a warm ceiling in an attic are hardly matching states of temperatures and conditions. Plus, she's now no longer able to self-regulate her own physical condition successfully, so that stress was taking a toll on her fat reserves and chances of survival.
You see, you don't feed or water a bat - or any animal - in that somewhat awakened state of hibernation, you let them be. But this was an exception to the rule of wildlife happenstance. Click had managed to self-regulate herself in torpor from her cozy attic digs into our living space, complete with much warmer temperatures - and cats! Her odds had changed drastically for the worse in the twitch of a wing. I knew it was critical to keep her safe, and to also keep her cool - but how much cooler was cool enough?

Now you understand why that biological clock wasn't just ticking away - it was pounding like the inner workings of Big Ben. The window of opportunity for her making it through the week, let alone the winter, were slipping away.
This all began Tuesday, late in the day, as best we can narrow down the timeline. 'The twins' (Odin and Booker, for those of you not as familiar with our furry family) had probably followed the scratching noises of Click's movements above their heads most of the day, until she squoze herself through a recessed light fixture into our area.
Karl noticed Booker was fixated on something in the window (probably) much later in the day, and eventually Karl let me know that "something odd [was] hanging on the curtains - and it's clicking at me!"
Was it a moth or some other bug? I asked him. No, no. Perhaps a frog? No, and that's when he mentioned the noise; I told him it sounds like he was describing a bat. He said it didn't look like a bat, so I told him to look behind the drape panel (I still could not visualize how it was hanging from the drapes through our phone call) - and then he shrieked like a man. There was a lot of noise from his end of the phone, some his, some furniture he was crashing into, and some was the terror of the twins as they reacted to Karl's surprise.
The poor little thing was moving to conceal itself from approaching danger - things that would eat it. Confusion and noise (lots of both), and I was missing out; I can only imagine what it all looked like. [hilarity ensued]
I won't bore you with the ins and outs of the capture procedure - suffice to say you would have thought it an episode of I Love Lucy and not some random house on a quiet neighborhood street, with a loose bat evading two grown humans and two vigilant cats.
We made as many calls to numbers we could quickly locate that evening, just in hopes of getting some fast explanations on how to proceed, or where to take it for a safe return to the wild once warmer weather arrived - MONTHS from now. There's a Bat Conservancy organization in MI, for crying out loud - I know because I had planned to attend a huge presentation only the year before. How come I wasn't getting any of this info from anyone? Better still, why weren't any of the three advertised 24-hour 'call us any time' numbers taking calls at 8:45PM?
Internet wisdom suggested securing it without hurting it, or putting pets or humans at risk, and keeping the critter cool (but in a house?). We couldn't manage the 35*-40* (and we were not going to place the bat-in-a-bucket in the 'frig), but we could get a mid-fifty range to help a little towards the metabolic requirement. So, off to the lower level laundry closet it went.
Wednesday passed with a lot of web searching and phone calls. Hand-wringing was also a key part of the goings-on, but there wasn't much more we could do for the diminutive cutie except pray and continue to beat the bushes. With no access to my fb account while at work, suggestions stacked up and anything I could find online dried up with each phone call. I grew more concerned that there was no good plan coming to fruition in favor of our at-risk intruder. All the answers I received were either, "no, wrong number," "kill it, it has rabies," or "you've reached a non-working number." Infinitely frustrating.
One suggestion was to throw it outdoors, with the theory being it would quickly find a warm place - but I just couldn't bring myself to that end. Oh, maybe, had it been over forty degrees and no nighttime temps in the twenties, perhaps I would have had a less guilty attitude (and fewer thoughts of committing murder) and done that. But it wasn't and they weren't....so another night in the can ensued - along with the guilt and helpless feeling of this little bats' fate balancing precariously in my hands.
Knowing full well it was most likely now not in full torpor, and that it now most likely required water - if not food - I reasoned I would go to the local pet shop for some insect take-out on Thursday...no matter what.
Lest you think/ask why I didn't simply return the sweetie back to the attic, let me explain my thought process. If Click did manage to return to torpor and then back to more of a successful hibernation state, I had my doubts that due to the past 2 days of calorie-burning full heart rate and breathing (and warm temps), she didn't physically have what would have been necessary to sustain her through the rest of winter any longer. At least, that was how I felt.
I am a worrier - there, I said it.
If I did return her to the attic, would she succumb to the combination of what had transpired; would we find her remains later? Would she be barely alright through all of winter only to be too weak to make it out in the spring and die then? I just couldn't take that chance with her life. It wasn't my life to toy with, but it *was* my responsibility to help her.
__Fast forward to Thursday, because I fell asleep reading Wed night.__
On the drive to work, I dialed the one number I saw any quick hope in, and left a voice message. The person I called returned my message with a fantastic response, and I cheered several times as I parked the car and ran inside.
Buoyed for the rest of the day, I had a tough time making eight hours not seem like eighty, and I called Karl periodically to have him spot-check Click's condition. Now that I knew there was a huge positive chance, I had Karl put a container of water in the bucket. Click was going to be alright - I hoped.
Managing to peel myself away from work one hour later than I wanted to, I flew home to gather up Karl and Click to make the nearly one hour trip to the land of bat salvation. And, yes, I am going to continue being somewhat cryptic throughout this explanation, for reasons which will become obvious (to the smarter ones out there). Just kidding, because all my friends are pretty doggone brilliant.
There are only two trained/qualified/licensed/approved caretakers of wildlife creatures, such as Click, in the state of chaos (a.k.a. MI), and fortunately this person resides not too horribly far from me. Let that sink in - one of only two! There are way more needful creatures than can be cared for by two people. There's something wrong with these odds, people.
Lemme see if I can correctly describe the rehabbing dilemma in the state of Michigan. If I get it wrong, in part or in whole, a knowledgeable person can feel free to correct me. While bats are a protected species because of population decline - for many MAN-MADE reasons, it is illegal to care for them when an issue has been identified and care is required. The state will require training and licensing and reviews and fees, and all of that hoo-ha and folderol and more, but makes it illegal to actually perform the deed. Bureaucracy and hypocrites are kissing cousins!
Anyway, the long and the short of it is (I know, it's far too late for "the short of it") that our new friend - AND HERO - has taken Click into her care (no, I will not say 'under her wing'), adding to a fantastic community of rescued bats, who are over-wintering in a fabulous bat resort. I am now a small part of the bat underground, and will proudly help their cause in any way I can. Our rescuer gave Click a complete physical and sexed her, telling us she is a MI Large Brown Bat, I would have figure a small variety, but nope...Large Brown Bats are small, and Small Brown Bats are smaller, yet.. LOL
Click ate 15 mealy worms, which is good! She is a yearling, and was on the emaciated side of the scale, but will rebound nicely, and will be returned to the world in the spring once the weather mellows enough for the bugs to become plentiful and life-sustaining for beautiful little creatures like Click.
God bless the rehabbers of the world - they are few and far between, but they make such a huge difference in their own ways; their compassion has no bounds for those with no voice. I am blessed to know six, and number them among my friends. I am proud to be a batty subversive!

What are you celebrating... and why?

Shouldn't it always be a time of love?
Especially now, when you've saved up all year for this season of joy, your patience and generous spirit should be overflowing, boundless, and capable of a little more tolerance - at the very least.

Where's the love?

I am having a hard time wrapping my head around why it is people feel the need to be overwhelmingly territorial / hostile / possessive / ready to pick a fight over a simple greeting shared at this time of year?

I'm not understanding why it is that humans are coming unglued over someone's choice to say "happy holidays" or "season's greetings" in place of "merry Christmas." It's not a contest or a challenge. It's not meant to disparage your faith or communal spirit, so WHY take it personally? I really don't get it; what a silly thing to get your ' 'murican' panties in a twist over.

If you feel it's a slap to your Christianity to be greeted in a pleasant and alternate way - other than hearing "merry Christmas" - why not practice the time-honored Jesus method of returning the love and say, "thank you, and to you as well." Heck, even "thank you, and merry Christmas to you," would work.

Do you truly believe a rebuke over civility from one human to another is in order simply because you didn't hear your particular turn of holiday phrase?

Think of it this way: perhaps the person who just offended *your* delicate senses is attempting an overarching greeting so-as not to inadvertently exclude anyone else from enjoying their own festivus train of thought.

Hanukkah.
Kwanzaa.
Boxing Day.
Ōmisoka.
Christmas.
St. Lucia Day
Three Kings Day.
Diwali.

Keep in mind the world is a lot smaller than it used to be, but we are all still one race - the human race. Let's act like that matters.

Peace and joy, people. Peace and joy ~

What is it about life?

Along the way from where you entered your life and where it comes to an end, I hope you:

• find/found reasons to appreciate your family
• accumulate(d) friends and amass(ed) memories 
• enjoy(ed) the unbridled, no-strings love of a pet - hopefully more than once in your lifetime
• learn(ed) what you needed to know (and used it well) 
• strive/strove to remain curious and open to all of life's lessons
• stand/stood up for someone incapable of standing up for themselves
• experience(d) a protective guiding force of your own when it is/was most needed
• own(ed) a completely comfortable pair of shoes, jeans, and an over-sized sweater
• teach/taught yourself a skill, and then pass(ed) it down to another eager student
• excel(led) at something you enjoy(ed)
• understand/understood the power of belief and prayer
• practice(d) patience, kindness, empathy, teaching, giving and receiving, sharing
• share(d) the road and drive/drove like a citizen of a larger community... and not a total asshole
• share(d) a secret 'family' recipe
• share(d) your crayons
• share(d) happiness
• share(d) yourself
• find/found contentment
• love(d); found love, gave love, received love, enjoyed love, learned from love

These are some of the things I wish for you. 

Go and live your life, and peace be with you ~

Happy World Elephant Day!

Just for you I found a nice elephant info guide - you're going to love it.  'Elephacts', you might call it.


Or....not.

ENJOY!
https://www.facebook.com/therainforestsite/videos/vb.6020882687/10153056403562688/?type=2&theater

**The things dreams are made of

I seem to be stuck in my own little version of the wayback machine. Lots of reminiscing (sort of) going on.

A few weeks ago I tasked myself with the necessary chore of cleaning out my email inboxes (due, in part, to some accounts having accumulated well over one-thousand emails). During the ensuing weeks I managed to wittle down and cull out several hundred email pieces from each of two major email accounts. Phwew!

As luck would have it I found an email exchange in which I was describing my joy at having narrowed down my choices in paint color for the long wall that spans my living room and part of the kitchen. It seems my desire (even in 2010) was to use a dark (purple) color over the long expanse. I also jibbered on about my insane desire and determination to finish the entire chore by the beginning of October....2010! This all included finishing the plastering, the sanding, the taping, etc,. then actually buying the paint and painting.

I was amazed to find it has only taken me 2.10 years to actually jump in and get it all done! I'm improving.

[you need to know i am rolling on the floor, convulsing with laughter]

The way I look at it now: **I only need to get the other paint colors to finish the living room walls and move into the kitchen (eventually). Oh, crap! And the darned ceiling. [groan]

Moving on

Every day that rolls by the earth turns;
we age another twenty-four hours;
vegetation grows;
rain forests fall;
humans force another species of God into extinction;
droughts wreak havoc;
floods consume homes;
people come in to - and exit - the lives of others;
sunsets and sunrises dictate our slumber and our waking hours, and still;
life goes on...or it doesn't.

It's all a matter of who you are and/or where you are, and what you do or what others do unto you.

Make changes or stick with the status quo, it's all up to you.

Zero expectations

So, I was to have another one-student class tonight (I really dislike those classes with one student - especially when they've paid half price), but I've just had a phone call from the woman setting up the classes  and she tells me the customer enrolled in the skirt class decided to cancel. 

NOT due to the impending weather, but because in looking over the other courses she had enrolled herself in, she realized she was nowhere near ready to tackle a skirt with a zipper, let alone use a sewing machine!

Good call, woman, whoever you are.  [patting her back and flashing the 'thumb's up']

Really, people.  If you want to take a class - in whatever strikes your fancy - have the common sense to admit to YOURSELF that you must begin closer to the beginning if you have absolutely no skills in [whatever]. 

In this case, whether it's clothing or quilts or pillows or ottomans, thinking you can simply dive in anywhere and make a dress or skirt or whatever....think again!  You must know the basics and understand the 'whys' before you can proceed with the 'hows'! 

If:
you've never learned to read (or SELECT) a pattern;
you haven't the slightest idea in how to pin and/or cut a pattern;
you can't thread your own machine (or wind a bobbin);
you have no idea what is meant by a 5/8" seam allowance (and couldn't locate that demarcation on your machine deck), etc., etc.;
-- do everyone (including yourself) a HUGE favor and begin at the beginning!

However, thank you for calling ahead to cancel tonight's session before I had arrived at the store!  Sincerely....I mean it. 

I was having visions of tonight, thinking you would call in to say you weren't coming after I had already arrived and prepped the room and myself for the evening, with the feeble excuse that the weather was the culprit.  Whew!  What a load off.

:)

Finally, we're off to the polls

Four years ago Brian, Karl, and I attended the polls together.  For each of the boys it was their first time ever to vote in a national (in any sort of, really) election.  And standing there with them I felt so proud.

I wanted a photo to mark that special marker in their lives, but the boys gave me a hard time about it, so I have only my memories of standing with them in a long line outside of our polling building, in the sun and crisp autumn air.

We elected the right man in 2008, and my family will do so again today.  Brian is currently at work, but Karl and I are now on our way out to make history happen once more.  Bud will make his way to vote after work, and then....we will watch in wonder and horror as the spectacle unfolds.

Robert Downey, Jr & Ricky Nelson

Some days I want to blog but can't think of a thing to say. Other days, obviously, I have no trouble whatsoever.

Today, I am using a message from Robert Downey, Jr. as the basis for my quick entry. He wisely tweeted:

"skinny = anorexic, thick = obese, virgin = too good, non-virgin = slut, friendly = fake, quiet = rude. You can never please society."

To that I can only add:

"You can't please everyone, so I'll have to please myself." ~ Ricky Nelson

What does it matter?

What in the world makes it necessary to mention the color of a person's skin when talking about an accomplishment (which, if you will allow me to point out, should be fairly obvious when a photo is posted with an article, or there is footage of a criminal being taken away in handcuffs on the evening news) ?

Today's example: Olympian Gabby Douglas.

In this country - in the U.S.A. - there are no color restrictions for becoming an Olympic athlete. Your acceptance onto 'Team U.S.A.' depends solely on your skills...your prowess...your abilities. And those skills must beat out others who possess similar power, determination, speed and agility.

I never saw any screaming headlines to the effect of "X number of blacks make the United States Olympic team for 2012", so why make a tremendous deal of her color now that she's won?

What should it matter the color of a person's skin when they're holding an Olympic medal? I thought we finally broke the color barrier once President Obama took office.

Seriously?!

Jesse Owens (bless his soul) took on the weight of the world when he participated in the "Hitler Olympics" in 1936. He upset nearly everyone (in some way) all of those years ago - including people of color - and did so spectacularly. But he paid a heavy price at the time so that black Americans could have a fair shot at getting past the 'color barrier' down the road.

And here we are, all these decades later, still making a big deal of it at every turn.

I am very happy for Gabby to have won an Olympic gold, but did the color of her skin give her an edge? Did it hold her back in some way? Did it hamper her chances when standing toe-to-toe against the world?

Does it really matter that she's black?

There was no ticker tape parade-style announcement regarding Kristi Yamaguchi's obvious non-white race status when she won gold two decades ago, and you don't see the Brits making pronouncement on their athlete's color - because to the British, their mixed national population is still simply British; subjects of the crown.

But here in America, land of the free and home of the brave, and the white, and the yellow, and the olive, and the brown, and the this and the that.....here we can't just say "American." There has to be a label.

Well I, for one, can't wait until that first Plaid American wins an Olympic medal. Then, maybe, the needless need to point out the color of one's skin will cease - from every one's mouth!

Why can't we all be colorblind!?

Hair!

I'm tired of the recurring Wookies I find on the bar of soap in the tub (after my sons have showered)!

Menfolk! Do NOT forget to rinse the soap bar after you use it! I'm begging you.

ALL of you.

Fellow world dwellers - ENJOY!

In lieu of a post today I am opting to share an incredible video. INCREDIBLE!

It may start a little slow, but the music builds and so does the action. If you aren't smiling by ;00;25 in, I'll apologize to you personally.

Where In The World...

I cannot even begin to tell you how many times I have watched this, and it never ceases to amaze, amuse and confound me. It makes me joyous - down to my very soul.

Please allow yourself the pleasure of the next five minutes.

Enjoy!

Nice surprises

Sometimes good news comes in a phone call.

The boys heard from their father last night, and it seems "the family" has decided the grand kids will receive a stipend from the granddad's estate. The man had a lot of money saved - never parted with a penny if he didn't have to - and believe you me, he found a myriad ways to hang on to every cent.

I always felt horrible for my (ex)mother-in-law, because there wasn't any reason for her to live the way she had all those years, except because of the whim of her husband. But that was her life and her way, and now that both parents are gone, their children are dealing with the final bits and pieces.

Since the demise of my (ex)father-in-law, I always wondered why nothing ever fell to my sons. He and his wife both intimated the kids would benefit a little once they passed.

I never ghoulishly sat on the fence and waited for that day, I (we) never had a need; the kids were fine and life was proceeding as life should. A few lumps here and there that maybe could have been less rocky...but that's life, and the boys are the better for those knocks and lessons.

As there were only three grandchildren between the five siblings, it seemed the grand kids would have some sort of nest egg to inherit and have tucked away in a back pocket for 'some day.'

Well, it's taken a while, but the boys are each now receiving a nice sum of investible, save-able money.

As Bud has lately experienced the feeling of achievement in saving a portion of his paychecks (and the grief at having to use some of that savings when "life happens"), he has cleverly decided how to portion and save the total amount to his best advantage, and for that I am very proud.

Karl is still weighing his options, but is receiving advice in a considered - and considerate - manner, and will be investing or saving the lion's share as well.

Thank you, Lord, for sublime miracles and Your loving favor.

Nearly giddy

I made myself a cup of tea moments ago, and totally expected to have to fill the sugar bowl (because yesterday - I noted - it was running quite low).

Imagine my surprise when I lifted the lid to find it had already been filled!

[swoon, palpitations]

Be still my heart.

You know what this means, don't you? They CAN be taught!

Now, if I can just get them to actually place the new roll of toilet tissue on the roll (to the right) and not simply set it on the counter to the left.

Hmm.

Teddy Bear Toss

Canada's Calgary Hitmen have incited fans for years to donate plush toys to area hospitals, benefiting children who are receiving care and to make the time a little more bear-able and less scary for the young patients.

It's how those donations are collected that has grown in notoriety.

The Teddy Bear Toss is a longstanding tradition whereby immediately following the first Hitmen goal in the game, the fans are encouraged to throw their plush bears onto the rink. That's right, the game halts while the fans rain down thousands upon thousands of teddy bears of all sizes and styles over the glass and onto the ice! It's an amazing sight and a generous way to help out a worthy cause.

This past weekend the Teddy Bear Toss totalled 25,003 stuffed critters laying in icy limbo once the barrage from fans ended and the haul had been cleared from the decks.

Go Canada!

World Aids Day

Walking through the halls of a building at our local junior college, I was met by an enthusiastic group of socially-minded students sitting at a long table. The table was festooned with posters and paper scallops, and strewn with items I only gave a cursory glance at.

Upon passing the crew a second time, I allowed myself to make eye contact with one of the students, who then promptly asked if I wanted "a sample."

"A sample of..." I trailed off, waiting for him (or, one of them) to fill in the blank.

"It's World Aids Day," another chimed in. To which I replied "No, thank you. I don't need any Aids. I've gotten this far without it."

A couple of them laughed and said "No! It's samples of condoms!" thinking it may embarrass me, or catch me off guard.

"No thanks," I responded once more. "I haven't any need...it's been a long dry spell."

More laughter.

From somewhere in the back of the pack came the response "Never say 'never'."

"No," I shot back, "just never again."

The same faceless voice quickly retorted, "but they're flavored."

"With what?" I asked.

More laughter.

The first young man who offered me the initial greeting quickly recovered with an offer of candy - I turned that down, too.

Good for them, though, they had the right idea. Now they just need a better sales pitch.

Definition of a miracle

For those dozen or so bystanders in Utah, who lifted a car off of an accident victim before he could burn to death, thank God!

If you haven't seen the video online somewhere, or heard the story on your morning news... it is remarkable!  It was humanity.  It was a miracle!

A young man on a motorbike was struck by an SUV (or large model car).  The bike erupted into flames upon impact, while the motorcyclist was pinned under the car with no way to escape. 

Pedestrians approached the car to try and move it off of the man, to no avail.  First one and two, then five people.  Not certain if the man was even still alive, many people had a hard time simply standing by while a body burned - dead or not.

Quickly, a young woman dropped to her stomach near the flames to get a better view of the biker to see if, in fact, the man was still alive.  When she saw movement she called out to the growing crowd, who then swarmed the vehicle, forcing it up high enough - and long enough - for another person to grab a leg and pull the man from under the car to safety.

If that's not a miracle, then I don't know what would constitute one in this day in age.  People, we are all in this together.

P.S.   No, the biker was not wearing a helmet, but the latest news from the hospital is that despite fractures to his legs, hips (and pelvis, I think), there are no major or life-threatening injuries - he is expected to fully recover! 

Allow me to brag a little

Here are my two sons:

Bud, working the long weekend at the Renaissance Festival (with a smile on his face),



and Karl with Barb, his Community Living Support Aide.



Yea! Boy has his car back...again!

We had a quick chat, then he was out the door for work. 

"Feels great, and like the mechanic tightened up and tweaked other stuff, too," he said. "Not just the brakes, unless all of it is connected and whatever."

Mommy asked: "Is it worth the do-re-mi?"

"Oh, yeah," he said with a childlike grin and a giggle.

Good. 

Thank you, Steve's European Automotive in Waterford!  You are the bomb!