From a friend:

Part I~

We've had a fire at our house tonight...while we were at a soccer game. A 250 watt heat lamp fell into one of the cages with the baby chicks in it and caught the newspaper and pine shavings on fire. We've had one casualty...so far. The rest were traumatized and singed. The house was completely filled with smoke when we got home, but the fire had burned itself out, thankfully. Other than smelling like we had a bonfire in the living room, there was no damage to the house. I feel awful about the little Buff Orpington, though. There was a plastic container of gasoline just 3 feet from the fire. We were very, very lucky.

Part II~

All but 3 of the chicks are just fine and don't seem to have any ill effects from their ordeal. I don't know why the lamp fell in...it was (I thought) securely clamped to the top of the kennel, and I had another clamp holding it to make it even more secure.

If you know any way to get the campfire smell out of the house, let me know. It's not the acrid smell you think of with most housefires...it was, after all, pine...mixed with a little chicken, if you'll pardon the sick joke. I think the smell is getting better, or maybe I'm just getting used to it.

It was a miracle nothing else happened. I can't imagine why ALL the newspapers and shavings didn't burn. The fire just stopped short of where the little chicks were huddled, terrified. Angels' wings must have fanned it out.

The most badly burned chick is in isolation in my bathroom. She is eating and chirping, but not very mobile. The bottoms of her feet were burned, so it is probably painful to move around much. I put some antibiotic ointment on the wound on her head, but it looks worse today...oozing. If I thought she was suffering, I should ...kill her, but I don't know that she is in pain and don't think I could kill her anyway. I'll wait a day or two and see how she does.

Part III~

I was doing laundry today, and walked in my bedroom, looked out the window and almost had a heart attack. Our bedroom is directly over the basement garage where the chicks were housed, and where the fire had occurred, and what appeared to be smoke was pouring up past the window. I quickly realized that it was the dryer exhaust hitting the cold morning air, and not smoke I was seeing. After what we experienced, you get a little jumpy...

Part IV~

I want to try to save and keep Sparky. She's kept me company while I do all the things I do in the bathroom...she's seen me naked and didn't laugh. I really, really like her. I don't know if she will ever be normal or if she'll even survive, but she's a fighter, and very possibly, a heroine.

Latest news is that Sparky has healed and is now a sweet little pet. We'll see how that goes!

It's not really my "job" to take out the trash but the can was overflowing, tomorrow is Trash Day and I was the only one home. I am not fond of the chore but I hadn't been outside all day except walking to and from the Jeep for work and back so I thought a good crisp jaunt out to the road might be good for me.

I stepped out the door into the cool night air and wondered if I should have put on a jacket over my light sweater. I decided I was too lazy to head back in, I'd tough it out and hussle. I threw the heavy bag onto my back and started jogging along our long driveway. Suddenly, at the curve of the driveway between the big Oak and the huge Elm I entered a different world! I had run right out of the large halo of light provided by the flood lights on the house and into a pitch black nothing. All I could see before me was a splendid view of millions of stars! I could still feel the pale light behind me as my eyes adjusted a bit to the darkness. I moved on, slowly, feeling my way up the drive more than seeing it. It was so beautiful that I couldn't help but think of God and I couldn't help but be reminded how small and insignifcant and short-lived we humans really are in the universe.

Putting things into perspective now and then is good for the soul....taking out the trash can be, too.

What frightens me most about scary movies is that somebody could actually come up with the awful scenarios!... and then that they would choose to share their wicked & warped ideas with others!... and, most of all, that people would choose to watch them and feel entertained!

That thought came to me as I was sitting quietly alone in the hot tub out in the beautiful Autumn morning. It was one of those days when birds flock up and there are thousands that come by out here in the country, gathering in black masses on the yards and fields and blackening the trees like charred leaves. Their calls were so loud as they all complained at once about the upcoming cold and lack of food, I supposed. I doubt anyone who has seen the old classic movie "The Birds" can see a these Fall flockings without having that movie cross one's mind.

I first saw it many, many years after it's conception on some late night movie years ago. I wasn't in the slightest bit frightened, knowing a bit about the nature of birds, and was more annoyed that someone would choose to frighten folks into believing that flocks of birds would attack people. Upon later viewings I was more amused by the actors obvious horror of something so terribly un-horrific. Why were they so stupid!?? Then I remembered that it is only a movie.

I guess that is why I hate Horror movies so much. It feels like they play on people's fears, but then why do we watch? Well, I don't... but many do and I haven't yet figured out why. I have never, ever enjoyed being frightened.

Hmmm...perhaps it is because I am someone that gets so lost in a movie that I totally forget for awhile that it is make-believe!

AHA!

Angus was carefully backing out of the cabin as I cleaned up breakfast dishes. He had just spent 15 minutes gathering his fishing gear, attaching his reel to the fly rod, threading the line and tying on the perfect tiny fly and was now loading up the Jeep so I could drop him off at the stream. He was maneuvering out of the door trying to get that loooong pole when the wooden screen door slapped against the pole. It snapped. He silently brought the pole back into the cabin to inspect the damage. I watched silently, too, wondering if this would ruin this fishing trip he had looked forward to for weeks.

He laid the pole down and began to unthread it and take the reel off. He went out to the Jeep and brought in his old, shorter pole and began the process all over again. I don't know why he had thrown in the old pole but what a blessing that he had! I know that Angus tends to notice the negative so I worried that he would hold his new broken pole in his thoughts all day and let it fester.

I dropped him at the stream and gathered my sketch book, notebook and camera and headed off to do my own thing. I wrote a few postcards, journaled a bit, then decided to hike a little. I chose the path along the bluffs and the stream hoping to get a glimpse of Angus.

The days was one of those perfect early Fall days..very cool in the morning warming up to a blue-sky day with that crispness in the air that one can only feel in the Autumn. I took photos of the stream and the trees and of fisherman and the arched bridge and the blue sky with the white branches of a sycamore tree and its' starting-to-turn leaves and of an old rusty Stop sign. All along the stream I saw people catching trout and I hoped that Angus was doing the same.

He was! He had caught and released several and then caught his limit while watched and photographed. Perfect timing! He cleaned the fish and packed them away in the cooler as I unpacked lunch. We sat in lawn chairs under the trees to eat our sandwhiches and I listened to his fishing stories. It was beautiful.

Yes, he tells everyone had badly the trip began, although it really had begun well. The nice car trip (I didn't even fall asleep like I usually do!), the quiet late dinner, the rustic cabin, the sleeping in (soooo rare), the good breakfast, all happened before the "Pole Incident". But, for him, maybe the whole fishing experience was richer because of the bad part. Maybe he recognized that crummy stuff happens and life goes on and can get better!

The fine fresh trout dinner with the family was wonderful. Life is good!

Who knew a puddle could be so lovely?

We talked all the way down to Bennett Spring on the 4 hour drive and I sent up a silent prayer of thanks for my friend, TK. She had talked me into taking a personal day to go with my husband on the fly fishing trip when he couldn't find a buddy who could get away for the day. I had resisted at first, not wanting to "waste" a personal day so early in the year and she said "What are you saving it for?" What indeed? I usually end up taking them on the last month before they expire for no reason at all.

It seems that as we have settled into this long-time marriage we do a lot less talking than we should. Most of our talk is about logistics more than conversation. We work different shifts and and have so many chores and meetings and kids and commitments....it's no excuse. We do have time together every day but we don't value it. So, we need these little mini-get-aways. I always like him better when we are out of town than when we are home anyway. At home there is always an underlying feeling of stress for Angus, I think. As if he feels guilty to be relaxing when there is so much to be done.

Anyway, TK made me remember my priorities. Her husband had recently been through a life threatening emergency surgery while out of town on business. She got the call from him as he was in pain and heading for the hospital. She left her kids with her mother-in-law and she and her father-in-law jumped in the car, drove 41/2 hours to St. Louis and arrived as he was coming out of surgery, still in bad shape. He has since come home and she is having to nurse him. He is frustrated with his situation and sometimes takes it out on her but ultimately it has brought them closer together...made him appreciate her more...made her cherish life more.

So I asked for the day off because I respect her opinion and knew that she was right...and she was.