What drives the blog?

Since I've started my blog I've struggled with the direction. Where do I want to take this? What do I want this to be about?

So many blogs have a purpose (http://mfrost.typepad.com/cute_overload/, http://gofugyourself.typepad.com/) but mine seems to be nothing other than an outlet for my own ramblings. Not exactly interesting reading for most people. I always think it'll come to me. It'll work itself out.

Cozytail's Suburban Wild Kingdom

Is that what I've become? For the last month I seem to be posting many stories about wildlife encounters. Just this weekend Steve killed a copperhead outside our garage door and their was a crayola sized millipede in our basement last night. No photos of the villains (all deceased).

Comment. Let me hear the stories of your wildlife encounters. Don't be shy!
Let's see if this is my blog destiny..

Sad news

I got a sad call from my aunt last night. She said that my grandmother is in stage four of colon cancer and hasn't been given long. The Dr says she may be able to live another year or more if chemo works. She is in her 80s and so this shouldn't be so unexpected for me but I found myself very shocked at news. Her own mother is 103 and still kicking. I guess I just figured she would be the same way. Esp since about two weeks ago she was still very active and playing tennis.

According to my aunt GM has rarely gone to the Dr in her life and figures the last time she really saw a Dr was when she (meaning my aunt) was born. She may have been able to prevent this with annual checkups and colonoscopies. I remember my grandmother talking a couple of years ago about how she had to update her will. She said sassily "I don't know why I bother, I plan to outlive everyone." And, I really thought she might.

In the last year her mind has been slipping. She has the most detailed memory of the past but her short term memory is quite bad. When the Dr told her she was dying she took it as well as anyone could. She said she lived a full life, travelled, etc. She said she couldn't complain. Unfortunately, by the time my aunt got her home from the appointment she had forgotten the whole conversation took place. My aunt says when she takes her to the Dr. my grandmother doesn't seem to retain the idea that she's dying. Perhaps that's a blessing. I don't know.

I saw her Easter and although she repeated a sentence or two she really did too bad. It's happened so quickly. It's just very sad. I'm glad we had Easter.

Bug a Boo

Typical Sunday
I needed to water the plants and I couldn't get the stinkin' hose attached to the nozzle so I had to dig the watering can out of the garage.
I noticed feathery web on the inside of the can but ignored it. I then proceeded to fill the can with water blasting from the spigot. I watered the first round of plants and refilled. Again, the water flow into the can was violent.

As I began watering the second round of plants and heard a screech. "Mommy, there is a bug on the watering can," Holly said. Holly is a bit of a dramatic and I didn't react quickly.
When I finally looked at the watering can I saw the horror. It was a black widow!!!
It was inches from my hand.

I put the can down and got a stick. The spider reluctantly climbed onto the stick and was placed on the deck. The spider ran from the stick but I decided that my husband needed to see the spider so I encouraged the widow to climb back onto the stick and called for him. He never saw the spider thanks to a malfunctioning screen door and the discovery of a wasp nest. I suspect he still doesn't really believe that I saw what I saw.

The spider did all it could to avoid me. It was violently flushed from its home, exposed to the hysterics of a five year old and harassed with a stick. I actually felt pity for the creature. In the end, however, I had to kill it. I've got to little ones and can't take the chance of them coming across it as they are into everything and happen to have an affection for watering cans.

Except for recognizing them by site, I really don't know much about black widows. If their is one will their be more? Despite the clear evidence of it's existence (smashed flat body) my husband continues to leave his shoes in the garage next where the watering can is stored. Ah well...

Crime

Erm.. sorry for not bloggin' lately.

My mom called one sunny day this week (Thursday maybe) and said "Something destroyed our bird feeders."

Crime Scene:
A wooded yard in the Middle Of Nowhere Mountains, VA. One copper bird feeder cracked into multiple pieces and scattered about the grounds. One metal shepard's hook bent to the ground at it's base.
Suspects:
- Freakishly large and well fed squirrels with long rap sheet of bird feeder raids
- Raccoon - no confirmed sitings but bound to be living among them
- Possum - many visual sitings and great climbers but are they strong enough to bend the shepard's hook?
- Deer - often seen in the yard, enjoy birdseed, to cute to be guilty
- Bear - only one citing in 15 years but certainly the only thing strong enough to bend the shepard's hook

She called yesterday morning told me a horrific tale. She was getting ready for bed and heard a bang outside. In truth she heard multiple bangs and proceeded to tell me about the volume of each bang and what she thought might have been the object which fell and where it might have landed. She may have done this just to increase the suspense but it just ended up being more detail that I needed. Bang, bang, bang, she turned on the porch light. Eeeek! There was a bear on the front porch standing and LOOKING IN THE WINDOW! They locked eyes and he did not appear alarmed at being discovered.

Since my parents live in the wilderness they have always thought themselves immune to crime and never lock their doors. (I have been on them about this for years). Also, a large gust of wind could blow the door open.* Naturally when my mom said the bear was on the porch, I thought of the unlocked door and how the bear could simply lean on it and be inside. Thankfully, that did not happen. I can't imagine the damage and horror that would have followed. She ran upstairs to get my dad. By the time he got downstairs the bear had decided there was nothing inside the home to tempt him. I guess he didn't see the scrumptious fat black kitty laying on the couch.

By the time my dad got downstairs, the bear had wondered back into the yard. He shouted at the bear and the bear simply looked at him and casually meandered back into the woods.

They lock their doors now.

*edited (01-07-09) to add The wind did blow their locked doors open last month. sigh... They replaced the door knob.