Job 33:28

Friday, April 11, 2008

The weather here has been erratic to say the least. I don’t recall it being so mutable in the past. One day it is sunny, balmy winds- humid. The next day it is snowing, storming, gale force winds and 20-40 degrees colder. The next day, back to sunny and warm. Tuesday, I was out with Buzz and I saw this little sky blue and white parakeet. He was happy as the little larks he was hanging out with. Well, I don’t know who he was hanging out with, swallows, larks whatever. He was happy.

That night it stormed, a cold wind blew in and the temperatures dropped about 20 degrees. When I took Buzz out the next morning there was the little parakeet. He was not quite so happy as he had been the day before. He was all wet and muddy. His wings were clipped, so he could only fly a few feet at a time. All wet and muddy and tired, he could hardly get off the ground. I knew one little dog for sure who would love to eat him, and there are plenty of other dogs and cats in the neighborhood who would like a tasty sky blue snack.

I, I, who does not like birds, I went to rescue him from the paws of death. I think saying I don’t like birds isn’t quite right. I like them when they are outside flying around doing birdie things. I don’t like them in houses, when they are too close to me, and certainly not to touch me! It’s approximately the same way I feel about lizards. I know they won’t hurt me, I don’t mind if other people have them as pets, but I don’t want them near me and I certainly don’t want to touch them. They creep me out.

There I was, never-the-less, with a five ounce monster in my hand. It was trying to bite me! I took it home and put it in a shoe box. It waited until it was dry, then escaped and flew around my living room pooping on my stuff. Stupid bird. I squealed a few times and finally trapped it back in the shoe box. I took it to the pet store and got a cage and some food. That afternoon I put up some “Did you lose your parakeet?” signs.

I had it at school with me so I showed some of my students. They said he was pretty. One girl said, “I like it, it’s pretty, but I don’t like, what is it? There, not piss . . .” She pointed to the bottom of the cage. I said, “It’s poop.”
She said, “Poop? P-U-P?”
I said, “Poop P-O-O-P”
Another girl walked up and said, “Oh! Is that his name? Poop! Hello Poop! So cute name!”
I said, “No, that’s not . . . uh- ok yeah, his name is Poop.”

Buzz is mesmerized by Poop. Buzz is ready to give up on the neighbor’s cat in favor of Poop. Poop twitches a lot when Buzz gets too close.

Saturday, April 05, 2008



I went on a “chocolate walk” with the woman’s group from the church I’ve been attending. We went to a too-cute-oh-my-wait-I-just-vomited-a-little-in-my-mouth shopping center. Useless over priced antiques, even more useless, even more over priced handicrafts, even more useless, even more overpriced jewelry- you get the idea. But, each store was giving away chocolate. Some of them were having drawings for other chocolate items. It seems I have won some Neiman Marcus chocolate potato chips. I’ll have to go pick those puppies up!

Speaking of puppies, I bought a Kosher Hot Dog. It is so stinking easy to amuse me.

Late we went to some country chicken place to eat, where thousands of chickens must be scarified to satisfy the needs for the MOUNTAINS of chicken that those adorable little waitresses cart out on their gigantic platters. We had chicken, we did the Hokey-Pokey (like you do at a chicken restaurant) we turned ourselves around and went home.

Before we left, however, some of use showed each other our purchases. I of course showed the Kosher Hot Dog. Someone asked if it was Charlie Chaplin. I don’t recall ever seeing Charlie Chaplin in forelocks and a prayer shawl, but “Uh- no . . . it’s a Kosher Hot Dog.” Texas- honestly have you people ever seen Jews?!

One woman showed us her new $79.00 shirt. I almost choked on my mashed potatoes. Another woman showed us her sheep. It was just a little folk-looking carved wooden black sheep. I said, “Oh, that’s nice.” She said, “Yes, I have colored sheep at home.” I did that thing where I turn my head to the side and squint my eyes in an effort to get my brain in the exact right position to understand that kind of statement. Then she “explained,” “I always see sheep decorations that are white or pastel, but not colored, so I just had to get this one.” I was thinking, ‘Aren’t pastels colors? Or does she mean she has BLACK sheep?’

I don’t know why but, because the term ‘colored’ referring to black (people or sheep) is so old fashioned it has a negative connotation and can be derogatory. It’s okay to say ‘people of color’ so maybe she should have said she has ‘sheep of color’ at home. Of course my first thought was a rainbow of sheep wandering a field contently.

I like the red one.