Have you ever had a (retrospective) realization that you were destined to be the person you are well before you became that person?
Apparently, I have a gift for wordplay, and have from day one.
As my mother and I were sitting outside tonight, enjoying the 70-degree, smoke-filled atmosphere that was Central Oregon, we took to a conversation about damn near everything. We discussed the world, the weather and my childhood, the latter of which concerns this post.
She mentioned how, when I was still a toddler, the whole family was watching a PBS documentary on a bird rehabilitation center in Florida. The center took care of egrets and other aviary creatures that were wounded and nursed them back to health.
Apparently, birds that were hurt but still able to fly to the place started to come there after a couple years of operation, in addition to the birds the center picked up in other ways. My mom incredulously asked my dad how the birds knew to go to this place.
Three-year-old me's answer?
"Bird of mouth."
8/24/10
Making the Mouse out of Life
(To the none of you who follow my blog religiously, I apologize for this being my first post in forever. But look up -- witty blog title!)
So, I finally came home for the summer yesterday, and I'm staying with my mother. Usually, when I come home, my cat lets me pet her for about 30 seconds before she hisses at me, scratches me and generally forgets that if it weren't for me, my mom would have never gotten her in the first place.
Last night, that wasn't the case. I was sitting on my computer, catching up on the half-day's worth of news I had missed while driving over Santiam Pass, and I'll be damned if my cat wasn't sleeping right next to me the entire time. She actually remembered to love me this time! I was so stoked.
Apparently, she really loves me.
I was getting ready to go to Subway with my mother for lunch today, and I took a shower and got dressed. I put on my shoes, and my right one felt as if there was something stuck in it, like a sock or something. So, I walked across the house from my old room to my mom's room and sat down on her bed while she was using the computer and untied my shoe.
I took it off my foot, looked inside and uttered, "Holy f***ing s**t!"
My cat really loves me.
There was a mouse in my shoe. Not a dead, decapitated one she killed and left me to snack on. A live one. She kept it there and allowed me the pleasure of getting to kill it myself.
Much to the cat's chagrin, I* instead took the mouse outside and let it go. But at least the cat doesn't know yet. I hate having to say no to gifts and/or free food.
*Disclaimer: By "I," I really mean "My wonderful, fantastic, loving mother."
So, I finally came home for the summer yesterday, and I'm staying with my mother. Usually, when I come home, my cat lets me pet her for about 30 seconds before she hisses at me, scratches me and generally forgets that if it weren't for me, my mom would have never gotten her in the first place.
Last night, that wasn't the case. I was sitting on my computer, catching up on the half-day's worth of news I had missed while driving over Santiam Pass, and I'll be damned if my cat wasn't sleeping right next to me the entire time. She actually remembered to love me this time! I was so stoked.
Apparently, she really loves me.
I was getting ready to go to Subway with my mother for lunch today, and I took a shower and got dressed. I put on my shoes, and my right one felt as if there was something stuck in it, like a sock or something. So, I walked across the house from my old room to my mom's room and sat down on her bed while she was using the computer and untied my shoe.
I took it off my foot, looked inside and uttered, "Holy f***ing s**t!"
My cat really loves me.
There was a mouse in my shoe. Not a dead, decapitated one she killed and left me to snack on. A live one. She kept it there and allowed me the pleasure of getting to kill it myself.
Much to the cat's chagrin, I* instead took the mouse outside and let it go. But at least the cat doesn't know yet. I hate having to say no to gifts and/or free food.
*Disclaimer: By "I," I really mean "My wonderful, fantastic, loving mother."
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