skipping town 2

the best thing about being married is inheriting family. no, really, i believe this. myself, i gained a sister with whom i can commiserate about being married to one of her brothers, and the other brother who liberally farts on people, as well as two new parents who live in florida. the living in florida part is a rare and special perk that i cannot garrantee to all people who are considering nuptial bliss. for our part, joe, charlie, and i, every summer, have a built in vacation get-away, complete with free accomodations, free baby-sitting, and a really nice, semi-private pool.

saturday morning began with the usual early morning, last minute, frantic detail resolving rush. i got up at 6:30a.m., after having gone to bed at 2:30a.m. to go to that hell-spawn laundromat that continually eats my quarters. when i went home from there, i flogged joe out of bed, while packing frenetically with one hand and diapering charlie with the other. we drove up the hill, threw a key and some catfood at mary, who graciously agreed to feed the whiner while we were gone, then hightailed it townward again. all told, we left a half hour later than we should've to get to the airport two hours early-- the new recommended protocal since this latest round of terrorist shenanigans-- only to arrive at the airport an hour and a half early so that we could walk straight through security in fifteen seconds flat. then we chased charlie around the airport for an hour and a quarter before boarding a plane that was so small i could've sworn in was powered by chinchillas on excercise wheels. have i ever mentioned that joe is six foot three?

as the plane taxied, charlie and i played a peekaboo game with the little window shutter, until, without preamble or apparent reason, charlie decided to let out an ear-splitting shriek just as the plane began its take-off run. having made our presence known to the entire plane, and especially the elderly gentleman sitting in front of us who i assume had to have an emergency pacemaker installation upon landing, charlie then climbed all over joe more or less contentedly for the rest of the flight. his favorite game was "let's drop everything under daddy's seat and watch him accordion fold himself to fish it out again."

on the decent into florida, charlie fussing because of the pressure in his ears, joe gave the little guy an ear massage that would've done a ferringy proud (one for you trek fans.) looking like he'd been puffin' on the wacky terbacky, charlie promptly fell off to sleep on daddy's arm... five minutes before landing. who says God has no sense of humor?

there was a flight attendant on our flight who must've been on the home stretch because, when the descent began, she went to the lav to change into street clothes. i've never been in an airplane lav, but i bet that was a feat almost as acrobatic as leg-shaving in a dormatory shower. anyway, she confirmed something i've long suspected: delta issues standarized navy blue thongs to go with their flight attendant uniforms. i know this because, as she was walking up the jetway with her spiffy little rolling suitcase, her spiffy little floppy pants fell all the way off of her spiffy little rear end revealing said navy thong. i wonder what it's like for the male flight attendants at delta?

and so we arrived at the in-law homestead, where charlie and i soon went to test out the springy grass that grows on all lawns in florida. so far, the kid has been most fascinated with the rocks in nana and papa's landscaping. myself, i was more entertained by the armadillo that came waddling indignantly out of the bushes. add to that a lizard that lept into the bushes after letting me take its picture, a crane standing in the top of a tall, spindly pine tree, two pigeons that begged us for treats on the balcony of a restaurant in saint augustine, and a sea hawk of some kind that posed for us that the old fort, and i'm thinking florida's wildlife is as varied and fearless as tucky's own.

i love having this convenient vacation home away from home, but i don't think i could live here. for one thing, i've heard that alligators tend to occupy any body of water they can find. that's one critter i don't need to meet up close.

i'd also miss waking up to the mountain mist in the morning, and i'd miss my body pillow in the familiar hollow on my side of the bed. i'd miss my bluebirds and finches, and the fat hummingbird that sits all day guarding the feeder. i'd miss stupid marsupials, and the brave raccoon that i saw climbing our apple tree at 6:00 in the afternoon in the holler. i'd miss whiny k'tigu, and charlie's bedroom now that we painted it green instead of the garish magenta color it was when we moved into the house. here in paradise, is this misfit pining away for the holler? um... no. don't get me wrong: i'm a back holler girl at heart. it's just that, this week, i'm a back holler girl with a tan.

nighttime invasions

many nights after “little thunder” has gone to his peaceful sleep, i find myself wide awake and wandering. sometimes it is more of a prowl, but mostly i just meander around the house in confusion, thinking, “what were all those things i was supposed to do today that i can only remember when there is no actual possibility of doing them?”

one such night, a few days ago, i had settled down to read a novel that can only be characterized as scandalous in its stupidity. all was quiet in the holler, when, from the back patio, i heard the distinctive clang of the cat bowl hitting pavement as some nefarious minibeast knocked it off of the low wall where it sits.

this happened once before. the first time, k’tigu apparently felt the need to protect her food source, because we were alerted to the presence of the intruder by her battle growl. that time around, however, we arrived on the porch in time only to see k’tigu peeking out of the holly bush.

this time i was prepared. with sloth-like stealth, i made my way though the mud room to peer out the door at the unwelcome guest. the “guest” peered back at me over its shoulder. at first i thought we had drawn the attentions of a rat, but i soon realized that the only animal stupid enough to stand there staring over its shoulder at a full size human is a baby opossum. i could just see the thought slowly trudging towards its brain, “oops..... i’ve been caught..... i’m supposed to do something now..... what is it?..... maybe i should run away.....”

before the opossum had fully comprehended the gravity of its situation, i was flapping my arms at it, saying none-too-sternly, “get out of here. who invited you?” eventually, it reached the same conclusion. with astounding stealth, it waddled foreword to the end of the wall, tripped over the cat’s water dish, and fell off the wall onto its head. then it ambled at full tilt, somewhat drunkenly, into the darkness, disproving the old adage “too stupid to live.”