By the way, sorry for the way the colors of my blog are messed up recently. You wouldn't notice it thru most blog readers, but if you read it directly, it's a mess.

I've tried to fix it. It's easy enough to make it even worse. It's not so easy to make it better. I have tried, and fighting my way back to only this bad a mess felt like a victory in the end. {rueful smile, wink}

Anne Elizabeth Baldwin

Visiting Dad’s Cousin, Part 1

Dad’s Aunt, Wilmar Shiras, wrote a book called “Children of the Atom” that’s a bit of a science fiction classic. Dad claims that it was inspired in part by watching her children struggle to fit in at school. The eldest of her children was very close to Dad’s age. That’s the one Dad is close to, so that’s the one I know.

As I said before, this cousin and her husband used to live in a residential neighborhood with an unusual number of wild animals right in the neighborhood. At least it seemed that way to me when Dad and I visited when I was a teenager. {Smile}

I also mentioned that she started leaving dogfood out for the raccoons, because she is a great animal lover. Then the skunks found out and took over. Most people I know would stop leaving out dogfood at this point. Not Dad’s cousin. She continued to leave dogfood out for the skunks for years. I always did wonder what the neighbors thought of this. {wink, Smile}

That was all before I got there. By the time I did, Dad had visited twice without me: once when she was leaving out dogfood for the raccoons, and once when she was leaving it out for the skunks already. By the time I got to visit, too, the skunks were Very Well Settled In. When I visited, one of the first things I was told that I would be sharing a small apartment with Dad’s cousin’s husband’s granddaughter by his first marriage, who was staying with them all summer, and working for them in their laboratory as a summer job.

After dinner and whatever we did afterwards, I was ready to go up tot he apartment to get ready for bed. The route from the main house to the apartment went right past the skunk’s food bowls, but I was told not to worry. Just walk firmly, and they shouldn’t bother me. Well, I found the bowls... and skunk planted right in the middle of the pathway I was supposed to use.

I froze, startled.

The skunk stared at me, showing no fear.

Remembering they’d said the skunks shouldn’t bother me, I started forward hesitantly.

The skunk went thump-thump-thump-thump-thump with his front paws.

I froze.

I’d recently read or heard (I remembered which back then) that skunks did a kind of stamping gesture as a warning before spraying, because they didn’t like the odor any more than anyone else did. This must be what they meant.

I turned around and walked briskly back to the main house. There I found Dad’s cousin’s husband. I told him about the skunk.

“What? Don’t worry about the skunks,” he said.

“But he stamped at me, and that’s supposed to be warning.”

“Just shoo them off. They won’t bother you.”

“You know how to do that. I don’t!” I told him, “Please help me. You said you would.”

“Oh, for crying out... come on, and keep up.”

He stormed out of the house and up the walk, shooing away the skunks very firmly when he reached the bowls.

I did follow him... at least 20 paces behind him. I hoped that was enough distance if he was wrong about the skunks...

He wasn’t. They left promptly for him, and he escorted me right up to the door of the apartment. I thanked him profusely, of course. {BRIGHT SMILE}

Then he left. I actually didn’t have trouble with the skunks after that. Maybe my escort that first night put me on their approved list or something. But I didn’t get sprayed, and that was the important thing as far as I was concerned. {wink, BIG GRIN}

Anne Elizabeth Baldwin

Dad's Frog

I wrote this up to swap with a friend for a frog story of hers. I thought I'd share it here, too. {Smile}

A few years ago, Dad was sitting on the patio in back of church for “This isn’t tea, it’s Lunch!” (as Father Moki re-named it). Anyway, he was just sitting there when he felt something land on his shoulder. Before he could turn to try to see what it was, it lifted...

...and a frog appeared on the table in front of him. It was a bright rusty orange, which was a extra surprise. It didn’t stay long before it jumped off to goodness knows where next, but he left quite a strong impression on my father. Dad did not expect to see a frog at church. He did not expect a frog to land on his shoulder. He certainly didn’t expect to see an orange frog. Yet this frog did all of that at once. It was a coquui, the frog from Puerto Rico that’s taken over the nighttime soundscape unless it’s too cool. The coquui who came here are all rust colored, somewhere between orange rust and brown rust. Dad’s coquui was definitely at the bright orange end of the spectrum. {wink, Smile}

Anne Elizabeth Baldwin

Dad's cousin

An email a friend sent me reminded me of a cousin of Dad's. His cousin and her husband used to live in a residential neighborhood with an unusual number of wild animals right in the neighborhood. At least it seemed that way to me when Dad and I visited when I was a teenager. {Smile}

She started leaving dogfood out for the raccoons. Then the skunks found out and took over. Most people I know would stop leaving out dogfood at this point. Not Dad’s cousin. She continued to leave dogfood out for the skunks for years. I always did wonder what the neighbors thought of this. {wink, Smile}

Anne Elizabeth Baldwin