15 and Amazing

Today is Callie's 15th birthday. I'm so proud of that little girl. She's pretty cool. She's taking dual enrollment courses in 9th grade, and wants to be a pilot. She's amazingly responsible, and has never been in trouble. The biggest problem I have with her is getting to keep the cat litter boxes clean. Really, though, the problem is cats, since I'm not a big fan of them. Here's Callie on my bed with Zuri, the tolerable cat.

Callie was a difficulty pregnancy, and a difficult baby. She was very colicky, allergic to all but the most expensive formula milk, and cried a lot. As a toddler, she was a little devil. She tested the limits constantly. She'd stand by the gas fireplace and reach out to touch the key while looking at me to see if I was watching. It was like she craved my "NO!" Here she is during that time with her two favorite things--her sippy cup and her "pacie."

She quickly grew out of that phase, and went through an "I like weird things" stage. Penguins and things like this occupied her time:

Since then, she's the kind of kid that gives her Christmas money to St. Jude's Children's Hospital, wants to adopt every stray animal, and wants to hand out money to every homeless person on the street. She's the kind of kid who is absolutely gorgeous, but doesn't seem to realize it, because she's kind toward everyone.

She's the kind of kid who takes responsibility seriously, and the kind of kid you can reason with. For example, she wanted to get a nose ring for her birthday. We had a talk about the pros and the many cons, and she decided maybe she didn't want one after all. I'm thankful she's open to her mom's advice, when many other teenagers shut their parents out. She talks to me about her life, her friends, and boys. I'm glad she feels like she can come to me when she has a concern or needs advice.

Anyway, I love that little thing, and thankful God granted me such a precious gift. I don't deserve her.

Well, I was going to say a little about current events, but now, after reminiscing, I think I'll keep this post just how it is. Happy Birthday, Callie Wahlie McAllister (I nickname all my kids silly names that change all the time).

May you always stack jelly.

I love you more than life itself and am so hugely proud of you. You make my life shine, and every thought of you brings a smile to my face. You are a joy to everyone, and I hope I will always be the type of mom you deserve.

Two Faces in Contrast: Buffalo Bill

I was thinking about things this weekend, trying to look at the big picture, when a whim, like a sneaky gremlin, forced my fingers to type a name into Google.

Buffalo Bill.

I'd  heard a little about Buffalo Bill growing up, but not much. I grew up on the Florida coast, and at school, the teachers were more apt to talk about the up and coming pro surfer, Kelly Slater (who lived a town or two down with me--I used to surf with his brother), than about history or math or anything useful.

What I'd mostly heard was that he was the reason for the near extinction of the buffalo, and that he wasn't a good guy.

Well, I found a website last night that made me realize how complex we humans are (www.codyarchive.org). There is a dual nature in every single one of us. As a Christian, I believe that, However, I am not so pious as to deny that I am capable of a wrong decision, a stupid mistake, or all around blowing it. I'm human, and Buffalo Bill Cody was, too.

He was born William Frederick Cody in Iowa in 1846, and became an adult at the tender age of 11, when his father died and he was faced with a hard decision. He was now the man of the farm, and he took that responsibility seriously. He went to work as a cattle driver, a helper on Westward bound wagon trains, and a rider for the Pony Express.

After that, he joined the Calvary, where he earned his famous nickname after killing over 4,000 buffalo to help feed the railroad workers. And from there, he went on to many other ventures and adventures, including his spectacularly famous "Wild West Show," which toured the US and Europe.

He obviously wasn't short on confidence, but who was he, really? Who was the real man under the pomp and attitude?

Buffalo Bill seems to have flown by the seat of his pants, his brain way far ahead of his body. I read the surviving letters we have from him to various people, and he appears to make excuses of why he can't have people over, or why he can't visit, or why he can't do this or that at the present time. He was just too busy. I get a feeling he spent a LOT of time coming up with new posters for his show, because there are tons of them:

Cut to "Cat's in the Cradle." Except this ending is much, much sadder. Buffalo Bill's only son, Kit, comes down with Scarlet Fever, and Bill knew it was bad. We see the soft side of Bill come out, and you can hear the heartbreak in his words as he writes his sister to inform her of the death of his beloved son:

"...God has taken from us our only little Boy. He was to good for this world. We loved him to dearly he could not stay. God wanted him where he could live in a better world. So he sent the angel of death. to take whe the treasure that he had given us five years and five months ago. and how dear he had grown to us in that time. And when we seen that there was dainger of him leaving us how we all clung to him. And prayed God not to take from us our little boy...And now his place is vacant and can never never be filled. for he has gone to be a beautiful angel in that better world. where he will wait for us. every one will know him there...We will have no trouble in finding him when we are there. for every one will know our Kitty. The messenger seems not to have been satisfied by plucking the brighte flower. and is still hovering near by. thinking whether he shall take the others or not. for the same fever...But with Kitty it claimed him from the first...I was hundreds of miles away when. Lulu telegraphed me. and I only got home a few hours before Kitty died. he could not speak. but he put his little arms around my neck. as much as to say. Papa has come."

Hundreds of miles away. My heart breaks.

But Bill was soon back to work, and from his letters, it appears that he desperately sought wealth, but also something else. He loved being the center of attention and loved the things that money could buy. However, there's something else in those letters--a vulnerability, a desperate wish that he should not be a failure. A desperate urgency to do whatever it took to provide for his family.

He was certainly a colorful character, often calling his friends and business partners "Old Pard," and writing in the way the actors in cheesy Westerns talk. He appears to have lived life in a perpetual whirlwind of his own design. However, something can come along that stops us in our tracks. It slams you in the face and throws you to the ground while screaming, "WAKE UP!"

This seems to have happened to Buffalo Bill. After a parade of his Wild West Show through Boston, he received a letter from a little boy who didn't see the parade because he was too sick (spinal troubles) to get out of his bed at a children's hospital. The letter was simple, and all the boy asked was that Buffalo Bill send him a picture of an Indian.

Buffalo Bill did better, and here is an except from a newspaper of what happened:

"...The important missive was mailed and even the impatient little invalid knew it was useless to expect an answer that day. The morning had hardly dawned before the child's bright eyes were open...The nurse hardly dared to hope that a busy man like Buffalo Bill would have time to respond to the wish of a sick child. "Colonel Cody is a very busy man," she said. "We must be patient."

At perhaps the twentieth repetition of this remark the door opened noiselessly. In came a six-foot Indian clad in leather trousers and wrapped in a scarlet blanket. He wore a headdress of tall, waving feathers and carried his bow in his hand.

The little invalids gasped in wonder, then they shrieked with delight. One by one, silent and noiseless but smiling, six splendid warriors followed the first...So unusual a sight in the orderly hospital so startled the nurse that she could not even speak. The warriors drew up in a line and saluted her. The happy children were shouting in such glee that the poor woman's fright was unnoticed.

The Indians ranged themselves in the narrow space between the cots, laid aside their gay blankets, placed their bows upon the floor, and, waving their arms to and fro, executed a quiet war dance. A sham battle was fought, followed by a song of victory. After this the blankets were again donned, the kindly red men went away, still smiling as benignly as their war paint would allow them to do. A cheer of gratitude and delight followed them down the broad corridors. The happy children talked about Buffalo Bill and the Wild West show for weeks after this visit. —Last of the Great Scouts."

Isn't that amazing? I can picture the mayhem of laughter and smiles that must have been rare in such a place. I bet there wasn't a dry eye in the place among the nurses witnessing this miraculous event.

I think Buffalo Bill must have been thinking of his own son as he read that little boy's letter. Maybe he regretted being too busy to spend as much time with his son as he would have liked. I'm fairly certain he wished he'd had more time to show his son the mystery and wonder of the majestic Indians. I think that little boy's letter smacked him right in the face, and made him stop in his tracks. He made a decision to not be too busy to respond to this little boy.

So, yes, Buffalo Bill was pretty cocky. He made bad decisions, he made good decisions. He made mistakes in the course of his success. He was a showman, but he lived the life he portrayed "on stage." He wasn't all smoke and mirrors, despite what history reports. I would encourage you all to take a look at this website. His letters reveal humanity, vulnerability, compassion and tons of passion, all combined to make him just like me and you. His letters show that all of us, in a way, are two-faced.

The line between stupidity and bravery has been crossed...

Oh, this is a good story.

As I was sitting on the couch, sipping a Coke Zero and trying to wake up enough to think of a topic for this post, our local news helped me out.

It goes along with my "Only in Florida" theme. Like only in Florida can you find a shoplifter named Cherries Waffles Tennis.

Okay, so this kid has made the often gray line between stupidity and bravery bright red.

Austin is 18 and lives in Wimauma, Florida. Now granted, this little town doesn't have a lot to do, so those kids there like to hunt and fish.

Austin Hatfield, 18 and obviously proud of his snake handling ability.

Austin, being a "daredevil" liked to find snakes. There's nothing wrong with that. When I was younger, I liked to look for snakes, too. But, there are some things you DO NOT TOUCH.

One of those things is a live cottonmouth water moccasin.

We have lots of these in Florida, because we have lots of water here, and these snakes love water. They look somewhat like other black snakes here, but when these snakes open their mouths, there's no mistaking them. They have a distinct white mouth that looks like it's full of cotton. They're also pit vipers, with the diamond-shaped head you associate with poisonous snakes.

Anyway, Austin found a cottonmouth he'd taken a ken to, and he decided to take it home and keep it as a pet. I guess he even let it "sleep" in his pillowcase.

You're lucky you didn't lose that tongue, Austin.

I'm surprised he survived one night. To demonstrate he was a genuine "snake whisperer," he took the snake out yesterday, put it on the kitchen table, and started kissing it. He counted the times he could kiss it.

"One." He jerked away without a bite.

"Two, three, four, five, six...," Austin took a moment to think of the number that comes after six,
"...seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve..."

And then the snake said...

Austin got tagged ON THE FACE, and good. He ran out of the kitchen yelling, "Hospital! Hospital! Now, NOW!"

A family member killed the snake and took it with them to the hospital, which is actually the right thing to do, if possible, as it helps hospital personnel to know what kind of anti-venom to give.

By the time he reached the hospital, Austin was in critical condition. Today, he's doing a little better, and is expected to survive.

I hope he's learned that a snake can never replace a girl.

Of course, I wish Austin a speedy and full recovery. I hope he's learned a valuable lesson. Like thirteen is an unlucky number. And that it is never wise to anticipate  the next move of a dangerous wild animal.

I post this because snake season is upon us, and people will be searching in snake-populated areas. Watch your pets, watch your feet, watch the path ahead. Keep your eyes on the ground--for more than one reason. Most of the time, snakes will "feel" you coming and slither away before you can get close.

However, snakes come out in the morning to sun themselves on warm surfaces, and if you're out walking around the wilderness in the early morning, a snake may not move off your path before you're on top of it. They're cold blooded, so they're more sluggish in the morning than they are after they've warmed awhile in the sun.

A lot of people think the treasure could be hidden among rocks like the one in the picture below. But, be cautious, because something a lot less friendly could be hanging around. DON'T go putting your hand into dark crevices in any of those four states!

And remember, just because you don't hear a rattle, and just because the snake may not look like what you think all rattlesnakes look like, doesn't mean it's not a rattlesnake. They can be dark, like in the picture above, or they can look almost black, like this one:

Or they can look like this:

And remember, a baby rattlesnake can't control the amount of venom they deliver like an adult can, so you're likely to get a larger, deadlier dose of venom from a baby than an adult snake. And babies are deceptively cute. DO NOT TOUCH!

Also remember that dead rattlesnakes can still "bite" and inject venom.

Be careful out there this summer and fall. Be brave, but don't be Austin.

If we all had a dog...

I spent the weekend rereading three books: The Catcher in the Rye, Great Expectations, and The Thrill of the Chase.

A lot of new revelations opened my eyes as I read these stories again. I'm not going to post any spoilers or an analysis of the books because you need to read them for yourselves.

But...don't you think that Holden Caufield may not have needed a time out to "rest up," if he had a dog? Oh, I so want to go into an character study of Holden, and his veiled nobility, but really, you all should read it first. If I get five of you to let me know one way or another that you've already read it (I know my comments don't work for everyone, you can email me at mindyfausey@yahoo.com) I'll post my take on the character of Holden and how it may or may not relate to TTOTC.

But...dogs. Dogs are our best friends. They provide unconditional love when we need it the most. Our beloved friends never laugh at us, never belittle us, never judge us, and never hold a grudge. Every single time, they will come through for us when we ask them to.

I will protect him with my life, forever.

Monet on the top of the couch behind me, making sure I'm okay.

Yes, they sometimes rip up rolls of toilet paper and leave bits and pieces strewn all over the house, then later throw up the bits and pieces they ate and couldn't digest. And yes, they might steal the last piece of steak right off your plate when you aren't looking.

But they also will try to share their favorite toy while you try to write a blog, like right this minute. Monet does this all the time. She will either throw food in my lap or a toy.

I'm pretty sure when she throws food in my lap, she's either wanting to share, or wanting me to take the first bite to see if it's poisoned. I like to think she wants to share.

I always give the food back to her saying something like, "No, I don't want your milkbone. You eat it." Then she'll throw it in my lap a few more times, and I'll pretend to take a bite, and since she's still a puppy and easy to trick, she's satisfied.

Anyway, I researched some amazing things about dogs, and if you don't like them now, you will before you get to the end of this. Unless you're an alien, but I've heard that even aliens can't resist a puppy.

1. Dogs save lives. Lassie isn't just a television show. Dogs have proven over and over their loyalty by countless acts of heroism. These two dogs saved 50 soldiers in Afghanistan, and Americans raised $21,000 to bring them out of the war zone.

2. Dogs are more comforting than Linus's security blanket. They'll let you cry on them, then lick away your tears. I'm pretty sure their drool contains the secret to happiness.

Even dogs who have been abused and mistreated give people a second chance. One of Michael Vick's fighting dogs, Leo, now comforts dying children. Dogs are grateful for second chances, and won't fail you if you give them one,

Leo, proof that second chances are worth it.

3. Dogs will be friends with anyone. Dogs pay no respect to class or species. They'll befriend deer, cats, horses, and even geese. This dog's name is Baks, and he's blind. He has a seeing eye goose named Buttons. Buttons leads Baks everywhere by holding onto him with her neck or honking to tell him which way to go.

4. Dogs are fierce protectors. They'll defend you til the end. In ancient China, an emperor would keep a tiny Pekingese up the sleeve of his robe as a last defense in case of home intruders.

5. Dogs inspire us to do classic things. When Lord Byron was told he couldn't bring his dog to school, he brought a bear instead. Yeah, Lord Byron, you are the man!

Take your pick, Trinity College!

Well, that's my post about how great dogs are. Cats are another story. They want to kill you.

You've been warned.

More about WWWH

I'm feeling a little rushed today, so I'm sorry for this hastily thrown together post. Hopefully, it will be interesting to someone.

There's a lot of water in this place. And a lot of waterS.

For those of you who believe any tense of the words "warm waters halt," can be used to interpret the phrase that has stumped most everyone at one time or another, I'll present some more potential meanings. I'm sorry if I blow any "secrets" out of the water, but none or maybe one of these could be my interpretation. Some of these have been discussed so often we think our stomachs will heave up our lunch if we hear it one more time. I hope for your sake, your stomachs can handle this post. Lol.


1. Where warm waters halt is the continental divide. It makes sense, and it could be, but the continental divide is a very big deal, and pretty much runs the entire way through the mountains in all four states. Maybe the exact spot is revealed in the other 8 clues...

Woo whee, that's a long line...

2. Where warm waters halt is the place warm waters furthest north as defined in a fisherman's NM map of warm and cold waters.

3. Where warm waters halt is the Armstrong Limit. I liked this one, because Forrest said that blood will bubble in the body at about 50,000 feet altitude (see My War for Me in TTOTC). What is the Armstrong Limit? Well, it's an imaginary line about 12 miles up, between 62,000 and 63,500 feet altitude. It's the line where the atmospheric pressure is so low that water will boil at normal human body temperature (98.6 F). Maybe Forrest mentions 50,000 feet for a reason. I don't know, but it's interesting to note that 50,000 feet is about 9.5 miles. And 9 is a number many searchers think is important.

I imagine this is an unforgettable experience...

4. Where warm waters halt is a hot spring. I don't think so, but it's one of those stomach churning theories out there.

What's more interesting to me is the white stuff around the spring... :)

5. Where warm waters halt refers to tears. I personally don't think so, but it could be the eye. Forrest said that it'd been a half century since a particular war and no one was crying anymore. Dry eyes--where warm waters halt. I find the half century part interesting, because that's 50 years, and 50 is a number that I think could be important.

6. Where warm waters halt is spring. I like this theory, too. It's when the snowmelt brings cold water down from the mountains.

Snowmelt is like steak to waterfalls...it feeds them...

7. Where warm waters halt is the confluence of two or more rivers. That very well could be. There are a few possible places this could be.

Some people think it's here...

8. Where warm waters halt is birth. I like this too, because it implies more than just the process, it implies an emptiness of leaving the safety of your mother. It implies leaving the warmth of your mother's womb and entering a cold, unforgiving world. For some animals, like sea turtles, it means leaving the safety of the sand to a probability of soon becoming another animal's meal.

He's obviously not happy about this...

9. Where warm waters halt is the mouth. Old Biddies seem to support this theory. Like the Bible says, "out of the mouth proceeds all kinds of evil.." Could be.

If only our words took visible form...maybe the world would be warmer.

10. Where warm waters halt refers to urination. I sorta doubt it. But who knows? Maybe an outhouse is where you start. Forrest said that the treasure wasn't in an outhouse, but he didn't say that it wasn't the place you start.

Those are just ten of the many, many theories out there. I can think of several more, but for the sake of brevity, I'll stop there. I think all of these have been mentioned before, but maybe for someone, it's a new idea.