Once again I must say a word or two about the wildlife here. I am sure the last thing anyone would like to see is another mouse story, so I will spare you. Just let me say that we caught another one last night, and she was so determined to get free from the sticky trap, that she ripped all of the fur off of her arms. That is some true drive and determination. She was, however, stuck on with her entire body, but she tried. The one we got the other night during our tv watching was still eating the peanutty bait as Harland took the trap outside--- I guess he wanted one last meal like a death row inmate.
The wildlife we encountered yesterday was even less liked than the yucky mice. I saw my first snake. Thankfully it was crossing the road about 1/2 mile from our house, but it was a wake up call for us all that the snakes are here. I thought it was a stick so I drove straddling it. I saw it was a snake and turned the vehicle around to go back and run over it--- (harsh I know, but that would be potentially one less snake that could end up in our yard). When we got back to where it was, it was gone. I hated that I missed it. The kids thought I was a little nuts to turn around and go back, but they got a good laugh out of it chanting something about "my mom is a crazy snake murderer". This morning on the drive to school, we were on the lookout, and I vowed that my vehicular aim will be better next chance I get. We saw no slithering snakes this morning, but this crazy mom will be on the lookout this afternoon.
I must be embracing some of the country mindset. Yesterday I was doing laundry and cooking and decided to listen to Pandora for some music. My husband started a new Pandora station the other day which is to play Alabama-like music. I turned it on and it was still on that station. By the time I realized it, my hands were dirty with chicken juice so I couldn't change the station just then. I began listening to the words and must admit that I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was mostly Randy Travis, Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, and the like. I listened to the words of wisdom and had to smile: "country folk can survive"; "redneck girl-- her hands are calloused but her heart is tender"; "mommas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys". I have a newfound appreciation for the sentiments in some of the country songs. They somehow seem much more appropriate at this moment in our lives than some of the current pop-rock songs. It was good for a chuckle and even a sentimental tear as I prepared my chicken pot pie with my own calloused hands.
Tonight we celebrate Nathanael's eighth birthday, and he has requested for his "country birthday dinner" to be homemade french fries and chicken nuggets (since McDonald's is too far away). Eight years ago we were living in a suburb of Chicago when Nathanael came along on a stormy Saturday night. He has lived up to his name-- he is truly a "gift from God." He is filled with joy and always has a smile. He loves his family, loves affection, and he really loves his birthday. I look forward to having his little hand hold mine when I pick him up from school on his special day--- mine are calloused and are blue from the food coloring, but I know he won't mind.
Isaiah 40:12 "Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand, or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens? Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket, or weighed the mountains on the scales and the hills in a balance?"
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