A Funny Story:
Recently, on Facebook, my cousin's daughter recounted how, while on a hike, a snake jumped at her and chased her down the path. It was funny and her older sister's jibes were quite cute. Now, add in that the young woman being chased by a snake is a veterinarian. Yep.
It reminded me of a similar tale from when we were young girls...........................
We were on a family camping trip. That night we had stopped in a gravel storage lot next to the Santiam River. (Those spots are now illegal to camp in, but this was eons ago.) My sisters and I were playing in the river, which was about one foot deep or less where it crossed over a gravel bar. Dad was upstream with his new fly pole and Mom was in the trailer fixing dinner.
We were playing in the water and on the gravel bar island. Don't remember what we were playing; but as we grew up in the local swimming pool it had to do with the water.
Suddenly Debbie screamed a blood-curdling scream! Peggy, Shelley and I dashed over to see what the matter was. "SNAKE!"
Sure enough, there was a snake. A VERY BIG snake. As I started to calm Debbie down, the snake came at us! Head up, teeth gleaming in sun, tongue lashing out, steams of venom dripping! I swear the Basilisk in Harry Potter was only slightly smaller than this evil, girl chasing, snake!
We all screamed, total panic, running for our lives! Here came Dad, running down the middle of the river! Mom showed up with her dish towel, ready to fight!
We stopped when their voices got through the adrenaline. "What's going on? Are you alright?"
"A snake was chasing us!"
"A. Snake. Was. Chasing. You?"
Family discussion on snakes, chasing, people. Keep your head, don't panic. Oh damn, lost that new, expensive, fly pole.
It wasn't the bear Mom had envisioned. It was a family joke after that, any time Mom was seen walking around with a dish towel in her hands, "Going after a bear, are you?"
And Dad just said, "Next time, there'd better not be a next time."
We offered to use some of our money from picking berries and beans to help buy a new rod; Dad declined, only after Mom shot him a glance Medusa would have shied away from.
Rocky is still a bit sick. He is on the mend though. We think he might have eaten a green possum. Those things have to be ripe, don't ya know.
Anyway, he is eating, drinking, and peeing. His eyes have been clear all through this. Not the slime-covered, second eyelid over the eye thing. Jip has been trying to cuddle up and like his mouth. Rocky just sighs and looks for help. So Scott & I have been holding Jip alot.
I confronted Scott about his favorite breakfast today. He loves three poached (steamed in cups) eggs. As I was loading the dishwasher the other day, it dawned on me that it takes six pieces of equipment to poach his eggs; three egg cups, the rack to hold them, the pan, and the lid. At the time, the little egg cup was feeling like an anvil (damn fibromyalgia!)
When we were talking today, he added that he also uses a bowl and spoon. That's EIGHT pieces for THREE little eggs! I ended up just walking away. I guess that this is the reason I like one dish meals. One pot, one serving spoon, a plate and a fork make for a light cleanup.