Why Spiders Are Terrible and Should Be Feared

I was going to tell you all why I'll never eat another Oreo in my life, but I'll save that story for another day.

Instead, I thought I'd talk about something I'm afraid of.

I often tell people I'm not afraid of anything, and it's true, in a way. I don't really have any phobias, like other people I know. I know some people are afraid of heights. My mom is scared of the sight of blood. Other people have more unconventional fears like aliens, or Men in Black, or clowns. Well, I guess clowns can be pretty scary. Some people are afraid of dogs, or cats, or snakes, or sharks. People can just about be afraid of anything and everything.

I'm not scared of any of those things. But there are things in this world that make my heart explode into bloody shreds of terror.

Those things are SPIDERS, and there are many perfectly sane reasons to be terrified of them.

If a spider crosses my path, or is somewhere in my house I do not want it to be, it will be a dead spider as soon as I can find something to smash it with. As much as I love the animal kingdom and life and love and all of us getting along, spiders have to die. A spider is one of the few things that'll make me scream like I'm being set on fire. I'd rather be on fire than have a spider crawl on me.

1. If you live in Oklahoma, you need to find a way to GET OUT. There, spiders will inspire you to become country bumpkins. When we lived in Oklahoma, I started to believe the state animals should be the skunk (you couldn't drive anywhere without the aroma of roadkill skunk making your child vomit in the backseat) and the spider.

Here's a GE street view recent image of the house we rented in Oklahoma, when our family just had three members:

Spiders were ALL OVER my house. And no matter how often I had the pest control guy spray, they'd always come back. Our house was backed up against a field with tall grass, and every time I mowed the lawn (yes, I was the one in the family that would mow the lawn), spiders of all kinds would literally leap out of the grass ahead of the mower. Just the thought of those spiders crawling all over the mowed grass gives me chills. And God forbid I should glance down and see one on my jeans...my ear-piercing shrieks made the neighborhood dogs howl on more than five occasions.

Needless to say, I didn't mow the lawn often, and my neighbor and friend, JeanAnne, would joke about getting a car on blocks to put in the yard.

2. Spiders are Masters of Disguise with just one motive--to strike icy fear into your heart. One time, I was out sweeping the prolific Oklahoma dust out of the garage when I saw a giant spider gamboling around like a fat little sumo wrestler. I took my broom and thought this would be an easy kill. But I was so woefully wrong!

I smashed the spider with the broom, and about a billion tiny baby spiders exploded from the big spider, spreading outward like a black tsunami of vile awfulness. I never screamed so loud in my life.

Imagine this times a million:

I dropped the broom as those little things washed over it's bristles and up the handles toward me like I was to be there very first meal. I ran into the house, grabbed a can of Raid, and raced back to the garage. I swallowed my terror just long enough to thoroughly poison the spiders and myself with a whole can of pesticide.

I will never poke a gamboling sumo spider again.

Do not let a spider fool you:

3. Some spiders are venomous, and they all like to bite you. Most spiders in the house could be killed leisurely, meaning I had time to go grab a shoe and come back and squash it. But there was one spider who struck more fear into my heart than any other spider, ever. And our house had a healthy population of them--the brown recluse.

Being an animal lover, and having researched animals all my life, I know about everything poisonous and venomous. I knew exactly what a brown recluse looked like. The first time I saw one in the house, I think I nearly had a heart attack. I can't remember what I was doing when I saw the first one, because there were many, many more to come, but I was probably watching TV or cleaning and saw it try to stalk stealthily across the white carpet.

Right away, I recognized the violin or fiddle shape on it's back, and knew it had to immediately die. I raced to grab the biggest show I could find (my husband at the time's combat boot worked nicely) and raced back to the spider, who noticed me freaking out, and started to make a run for it to the corner where it could slip into some crack like something out of a horror movie.

4. Brown recluses are aggressive magicians. Those spiders are fast. And, I didn't know it at the time, but they're also pretty fearless and aggressive. When it realized it wasn't going to make it to the safety of the crack, it stopped and reared up on its back legs, raising it's front ones in the air like some kind of evil spider magician weaving a curse to hurl at me.

I have never been more afraid in my life than when that spider raised up like that. Before it could hurl itself on me or fling the curse of death at me, I smashed it.

5. Spiders are incredibly hard to kill. The thing with spiders is that although you may smash them, and although they may appear to be all curled up and dead, they might not really be dead. They might be faking it. They're incredibly devious creatures, and they love it when you think they're dead. When they see you leave the room for gloves and a five feet long wad of paper towels to pick them up with, they laugh and uncurl from death, and start toward the crack in the wall, vowing to return when you're sleeping.

After a while, I learned you pretty much have to chop them into little pieces to really kill them.  So, I had a couple strategically placed spider-killing shoes placed around the house.

What a freaking liar:

6. Spiders purposely taunt you at the most inappropriate times. The problem was we had a lot of the aggressive, evil-tempered brown recluses. I would sometimes kill six to eight a day. And Aidan was about four years old at the time, and sometimes, I would find those spiders in her room, often when I was tucking her into bed. I did my best to hide my abject terror when I would see one taunting me by strolling across the carpet toward her bed while I was trying to sing her to sleep. I probably looked pretty terrifying myself as I grabbed the nearest spider shoe and pounded the thing into oblivion before resuming "You Are My Sunshine."

I eventually grew so rattled and so paranoid that I researched ways to keep them out of our beds when we were sleeping. Those spiders knew that we were most vulnerable when asleep and unable to wield a shoe, and they were just waiting for the right moment when we were in the deepest sleep to crawl in our mouths and bite our tongues.

I discovered a wonderful product then--two sided tape. It was recommended as a way to keep spiders out of the bed, and I went all out by tucking Aidan's comforter between the box spring and mattress so that it didn't touch the floor, then taping rolls and rolls of two sided tape to the legs of her bed.

I was in x-ray school at the time, so I was home a lot, which gave me time to eliminate as many spiders as I could find. Which was typically A LOT.

Anyway, I can't even express how happy and relieved I was when we got orders to leave the spider and skunk infested state of Oklahoma to Albuquerque, New Mexico.

7. Spiders think it's funny to hide in the very shoes you kill them with. It took just one horrifying experience of a long-legged joker hiding out (and probably chuckling) in a hiking boot I wore to mow the yard in for me to check every single shoe before putting it on for the rest of my life.

8. Spiders enjoy a sense of irony, and if they don't get you in one location, they will in another. During our two year stay in Oklahoma, I was never bitten by a spider. Then a couple years into our stay in NM, I was bitten by a black widow, and that was probably one of the most painful and worst experiences of my life. I'll save that story for another time, but the whole horrible experience only heightened my fear.

9 & 10. Spiders are evil and they are from Hell. And I don't often say this word, but spiders deserve it--spiders are assholes. I really don't think I have to convince anyone of this after my list of highly accurate and damning evidence, do I?

No Bunnies!

First of all, new crowns went well...I took this quick selfie in the car on the way to work afterward. My hair is not this red...more blonde--the lighting from the morning sun just picked up a lot of red...

Okay, so now to the meat of this post. Aidan, like myself, has always had a soft spot for animals. Yesterday, out of the blue, I get a text from her asking if she can get a new pet...she wasn't happy with my response...

I have a feeling if I had responded with a 9 or less, there would be a bunny chewing something up in our house right now.

However, I remembered how Aidan does pets. She'll beg and plead for this adorable something, and when I relent, she brings the pet in. She'll take care of it for like 30 minutes, then it's suddenly mine to feed, take care of , and love.

Also, when Aidan brings home a pet, things tend to go wrong. Jamie, remember when you asked what happened to my beautiful house on Sonya Drive? One word: Reptar.

Reptar began his life with us innocently enough. Here's Aidan just after she convinced me an iguana would be the "perfect" pet:

At first, she was a little hesitant holding him, but soon she realized he wouldn't hurt her. She named him Reptar after the Godzilla cartoon character in Rugrats. Little did we know how appropriate that name would become.

He's cute, enough, right? And small? Well, we didn't know anything about iguanas, and how they need expensive heat lamps turned on in their aquarium all the time, and how the temperature has to be just right, and how they can be picky eaters. So, it wasn't long before the hard part of caring for Reptar fell to me. Aidan even moved his aquarium from her room to my office because it was "smelly."

However, she still took time to teach Reptar tricks and put him in cute poses. It may be what started the lizard on it's path to evil. Reptar loved lounging on his purple chaise as people came to adore his cuteness and pay him homage by offering him buts of celery.

She even taught him to play the guitar. He was actually pretty good, too. At first, he liked playing boy band tunes, but his taste gradually grew darker and Metallica became his music of choice.

As he grew a little bigger, we would sometimes take him to the beach. We should've seen the horrors to come when we caught him peeping on this woman:

The beach was one of his favorite hangouts, but that's not hard to believe when you realize he had an "appetite" for human flesh.

Reptar continued to grow. When he couldn't go to the beach, he'd swim in the pool. One of his favorite things to do was to circle you like a shark while you were dozing on your raft. Then he'd pop up right next to your head and hiss like a demon spawn, and you'd freak out so bad, your raft would tip and dump you into the water. I could tell then that Reptar had a dark side. I began to look over my shoulder a lot whenever Reptar was lurking around.

Since Aidan wouldn't feed Reptar, and I was a little resentful for having the responsibility falling on me, I decided it wouldn't hurt if Reptar had breakfast at the table. After all, he could play guitar, so why not give him Kix at the table? I stopped leaving the box on the table after he kept "accidentally" knocking it over on the table. I swear he was laughing at me while I cleaned up the mess.

I think Reptar started to slip over the edge when Aidan decided she wanted to take Reptar on "walks." Reptar was used to his freedom. He'd already had the run of the beach, and could swim in the pool whenever he wanted, and play death metal guitar at all hours of the night, so when Aidan put a leash on him, he was less than pleased.

But still, Reptar put on a happy face...for a while...

Then, Aidan subjected Reptar to the ultimate indignity which finally sent him over the edge.

So, Reptar started turning into an angry iguana...and he just wouldn't stop growing. And he smelled really, really bad.

One day, when I opened the front door, Reptar shot past me, knocking me about ten feet. I slammed against the far wall, and Reptar was gone, leaving me with just his leftover stink and a huge repair bill.

Reptar is still alive out there, somewhere.  And he appears to be still growing, and can change his appearance at will. He still has a love for the female form though, and this picture was snapped somewhere in the mountains, just before an unfortunate tragedy befell the unwary woman:

Reptar tends to pop up wherever beautiful women are hiking alone. He is a charmer, using his magical seductive powers to lure women close. I think he makes them think he's a bunny. But then, he pounces, and the hapless females don't stand a chance:

Most recently, an amateur photographer out birdwatching in Apalachicola caught this moment on film. Apparently, Reptar saw this man and woman picnicking by a pond. He thought the woman was too beautiful for that man, so he sprung into action. He proceeded to chew up the guy and spit him out in bloody pieces, then gobbled up the woman, swallowing her whole. He was said to have uttered a loud, satisfied burp while rubbing a clawed foot over his tummy.

So, I've learned my lesson about giving in to Aidan's requests for "adorable" pets. No bunnies, no iguanas, and certainly no bunnies AND iguanas.

Knowing our history with pets, the bunny would probably grow into this:

Is a hero always a hero?

Are there true heroes? Or are there just men and women who sometimes do something heroic? Is a "hero" someone that does the right, heroic thing all the time? Or is one heroic deed enough to be deemed a hero for life?

What is a hero, anyway?

Is a hero/heroine someone who served in the military? Someone who earned medals and honor in the service of our country? Someone who fought in a war?

My answer would be "not necessarily." My ex-husband was a highly decorated Major in the Air Force and served in Afghanistan. What made me sick was that people were always describing him as a hero, and thanking him for his service. I, however, knew the truth. I knew what the other people didn't see. I knew that every day he was in Afghanistan, he contemplated taking his own life. I know every day, he connived to get home sooner. I knew every day he wrote me terrible emails "blaming" me for not having to endure what he was enduring.

And no, he wasn't on the front lines, living in a dirty tent. He was working in a finance office and slept in an apartment he shared with just one other roommate. It wasn't long after that I learned what he did to my daughter.

So, is he a hero simply for his "service" to the country? Is anyone and everyone who serves in the military automatically a hero? Some people think so. I don't.

I was in the military, and sometimes people thank me for my service. I just want to laugh. I worked in a cushy office, went to luncheons nearly every day, played basketball and went to the gym on the days we didn't have luncheons. I administered construction contracts. I never went overseas, never fought in a war, never did anything but enjoy my pay and benefits and free base housing. Like that scene in The Office where Jim and Karen and Andy play Call of Duty at their cubicles, me and my coworkers used to play Doom. Or Dominoes. Or poker. All during the duty day. And all approved of by our commander as long as we kept up with our work. Looking back, I'm pretty dumb for leaving the Air Force. :)

Here's my CENTCOM ID card:

Weekends were spent jet skiing or going on cruises with other officers:

So, no, don't thank me for my "service." Lol.

I know there are a lot of true heroes that have served in the military, and the fire department and the police department. They've done incredible things at the risk of their own lives. I salute them. I admire them. I'm truly thankful for them.

But, at the same time, I believe a person can be a hero in one way, yet pretty rotten in other ways. And I'm not sure we can continue to rest on our laurels. I think a true hero doesn't strive to "be" a hero. They're naturally heroic -- it's in the core of their being.

And I believe a true hero doesn't have to perform heroic deeds. You can be a hero just by listening to someone who's hurting. You can be a hero by offering wisdom and counsel to a young person struggling to find their place in the world. You can be a hero by adopting a pet from a shelter. You can be a hero by volunteering to chaperone a field trip with your child. You can be a hero by getting a can off the top shelf at the grocery store for someone who can't reach (I can say I'm a hero many times over for doing that...lol),

You can be a hero in your everyday job. No matter what you do, you can be a hero just by making someone's day a little nicer.

There's lots of ways ordinary people can be a hero, and there are heroes all around us.

I'll add a true hero isn't someone who is heroic in order to achieve a self-serving agenda. They don't do what they do to be recognized or to get anything in return. They do things for others because it's who they are, not what publicity they can get.

Think about that awhile.

Let's Go A' Viking

In my quest to discover my heritage, I came across some pretty cool ancestors. In previous posts, I've talked about Ragnar, who is now generally regarded to have been a real Viking chieftain. His wives seem to be another matter. On the History Channel version, Ragnar is first married to Lathgertha, the shieldmaiden. However, other accounts say that Ragnar was first married to Aslaug, the daughter of the shieldmaiden Brunhilde, or Brynhildr. She's the one I want to talk about today.

The story of Brynhildr is amazing. There is so much written about her that I wonder if she may also have been a real person. Many of the heroes and heroines portrayed in the Volsunga Saga and other Norse literature are turning out to have a history based in fact, although there's no doubt the writers fictionalized many of their superhuman and fantastical attributes.

The awesome thing about Brynhildr is that she's a Valkyrie, a shieldmaiden who chooses who is to live or die in battle, much like The Morrigan in Irish folklore. Those warriors that the Valkyrie chooses go to Valhalla to feast with Odin in a euphoric afterlife. The name Valkyrie comes from root words that literally mean "chooser of the slain."

According to the Volsunga Saga:

One day, Brynhildr, the Amazon daughter of Odin and Erda (the personification of earth) was ordered to choose the victor of a one on one battle between two strangely named king dudes, Hjalmgunnar and Agnar. Even though Brynhildr knew Odin wanted the older, grumpier Hjalmgunnar to win, Brynhildr was a rebellious thing, and chose Agnar, who must've been very nice to look at, to win the fight.

But, oh man, Odin was ticked. So ticked that he condemned Brynhildr to live the rest of her life as a mortal woman, and imprisoned her in a castle. And not only that, but he made it so she slept a sleep like death inside a ring of fire. Only a man who knew no fear, and surpassed Brynhildr in strength, could rescue her. But, Odin was still devastated by his beloved daughter's betrayal.

It was a seemingly impossible task. Most guys, even though they were Viking superheroes, could not rescue the beautiful maiden.

Until Sigurd Sigmundson, my paternal ancestor, came along. He's the Siegfried in the tale of Siegfried and Brunhilde. Some of you are might be familiar with Howard David Johnson's rendering of the pair:

Now, Sigurd was one bad ass dude. He was the slayer of the poisonous dragon Fafnir. Although Fafnir doesn't look so tough in the illustration, believe me, he was VERY tough. And the blood of Fafnir was magical, allowing Sigurd to understand birdsong. Okay, so how that makes any kind of logical sense is beyond me. Lol.

So, after slaying the dragon with his magic sword, Gram, Sigurd was feeling pretty good and wanted a woman. And the woman he wanted was Brynhildr. So, he goes to the castle, somehow manages to get through the ring of fire, and awakens Brynhildr by taking off her Valkyrie helmet and cutting off her chain mail armor.

The two experienced love at first sight, and Sigurd proposed to her with a magic ring that could make gold named Andvaranaut. I would love a ring like that and if it's real, I should have it because I'm the ancestor. Lol.

But, as always, there was evil afoot in the Viking world. He should've married Brynhildr right away, but instead he promised to return to her after visiting King Gjuki in Burgundy.

But when Gjuki's awful sorceress wife, Grimheld, saw Sigurd, she thought he was such a manly hunk that she wanted him to marry her daughter, Gudrun. So she made a magic potion and it might have gone down like this:

Grimheld: Oh, Sigurd, you are one fine specimen of manhood. Don't you see my lovely daughter over there? The one with rats in her hair and the giant mole on her nose?

Sigurd: Yes, Maam. But you see, I'm a hero, and I'm in love with a beautiful Valkyrie, the loveliest shield-maiden there ever was. I'm going to marry her as soon as I'm done with this ridiculous discussion with your husband.

Grimheld: Here, drink this. (She holds us a golden chalice filled with a red, apple-y smelling concoction.

Sigurd: Yummy. Gulp, gulp, gulp.

Grimheld: So, you're going to marry Brynhildr?

Sigurd: Who?

Grimheld: (smiling and cackling under her breath) You don't remember your beautiful shield-maiden, Brynhildr?

Sigurd: Who's that? Why would I want a beautiful Valkyrie when I can have your rat-infested daughter? I'll marry her!

Oh, poor Sigurd. Big on handsome brawniness, little on brains. The potion made him totally forget Brynhildr, and he married ugly old Gudrun.

But Grimheld wasn't finished. She wanted to keep a close eye on Brynhildr, so she sent her son, Gunnar, to rescue and marry her.

But Gunnar wasn't manly, and wasn't even as smart as Sigurd, so when he tried to ride his horse through a ring of flames surrounding the castle, he failed miserably, probably burning up his poor horse. Then he borrowed Sigurd's magic horse, and still failed to get through the ring of flames. So Sigurd agrees to change bodies with Gunnar, and he then succeeds in rescuing Brynhildr...again.

Then the catfights began. Brynhildr and Gudrun started arguing over whose husband was greater, Sigurd or Gunnar. It might've gone down like this:

Gudrun: My husband is sexier and tougher than your pansy husband.

Brynhildr: Ha! That's a laugh and a half, witch daughter. My husband rode through a wall of flames to save me.

Gudrun: You stupid blonde! Sigurd and Gunnar exchanged shapes. It wasn't Gunnar who made it through the flames, but my husband, Sigurd.

Brynhildr: (snagging Gudrun by the throat) You're lying!

Gudrun: (choking and gagging) No, I'm not! I swear on the rats that live in my hair!

Brynhildr: I see you are telling the truth. WTF! Where's that filthy cheating Sigurd? I'll kill him!

And she does just that by giving another guy a magic potion that causes rage. Still, the enraged guy can only kill Sigurd when he's sleeping. And even then, Sigurd is one tough cookie. As he lay dying, he hurls his sword at his murderer and kills him.

So, where does Aslaug, Ragnar's wife, come into the picture? That part is murky, but apparently in the three days Sigurd spent in the castle with Brynhildr disguised in Gunnar's body, they played around a bit and Aslaug was conceived.

But wow, those Viking women are not to be messed with...

I was watching an episode of the Vikings on the History Channel last night and this "love" scene between Ragnar and Lathgertha was actually pretty dang sexy, I thought:

Anyway, I hope history keeps coming alive, and that many of the old Viking heroes and heroines are found to be based in fact. Awesome ancestry!

Duality

I was looking at an astrology chart a friend made for me, and realized some things were really spot on, while others not so much. It did make me think about the person I am, the inner person that makes me tick. I'm a Virgo, born September 9th, in a certain year (lol) at a certain time of day, and some of the things listed about my personality based on those things were uncanny.  The main thing I realized was that I, like most of us, have a natural duality.

Here is the chart. My friend has nicknamed me "Polly Purebred." Just add that to my growing list of nicknames like Sasquatch, Octowilly, and Foo Foo.

That duality is what makes us unique. Each of us have different percentages of naughty and nice, sugar and spice, yes and no, happiness and sadness, optimism and pessimism, childlikeness and responsibility.

Duality is what enables us to be extremely sensual yet innocent and sometimes childlike. I tend to look at the world as a continuous adventure with the next exciting experience just around the corner. And although I'm not a social butterfly, I enjoy new experiences, and am not a fearful or timid person. I am shy, at first, but never timid. Those are two completely different things, in my opinion.

Wow, I guess if I was a Pokemon, I'd be Eevee:

My dual nature allows me to seek the purity and beauty in the world, yet also to enjoy the abstract and unusual. I like flowers...the colors, the shapes, the scents, but only when they're in the ground. That's where they belong, not dying in a giant vase on my nightstand. I love the purity and beauty of things, but don't like it when something of purity and beauty is put in a place it doesn't belong and becomes a detriment to itself.

My dual nature has a longing for the light, but a fascination for the dark. A love of the sunshine, and an awestruck wonder for the thunderstorm. I love raindrops on my skin as much as I love the tingling feeling of sunshine on my face. I love the salty waves of the ocean in the summer, and the white capped mountains in winter (obviously not in Florida, lol).

If I was an anime, I could be this:

or this:

or this:

But probably a combination of all them...

And I guess each sign has different eyes...here's a chart I found:

I can be naughty and nice, sugar and spice. I'm a tomboy, yet still all girl where and when it really counts. I clean up pretty good, and sometimes I like to wear dresses and heels. But I also love climbing things, don't mind getting dirty, and doing "boy" like things like shooting guns and racing.

And here's an interesting thing about seducing a Virgo, lol:

So, yeah, I'm not perfect, but I'm unique and I'm content with me. It was fun reading about my personality traits, and although some caused me to think about areas I need to improve, other insights caused me to realized that I, just like you, are very special in our own unique ways...

Happy Saturday, y'all...

Telescopic

This morning I woke up really early so Joe and I could planet watch. For the first time in a decade, five planets--Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn--are visible to the naked eye. And if visible to the naked eye, we figured the view from a telescope would be even better.

Well, Joe got a good view, but my knee wouldn't let me get in the right position (basically kneeling, which there is no way right now) to see anything. But that's what it was all about--Joe seeing something he's never seen before.

It was cold outside (45 degrees), and we were outside barefoot and still in our pajamas, so I was pretty shivery...lol.

I think Joe's excitement kept him warm, but he saw what he wanted to see -- Saturn and Mars -- and then we hightailed it back into the warm house.

Although I wasn't able to look through the telescope, this is pretty much how Joe described Saturn:

I think the five planets will be visible until Feb 20th, so I'm sure we'll be out a lot with the telescope.

And now I learn that Planet X or "Planet 9" may have been discovered. It's on the news today. That's pretty cool. But I'm not giving up Pluto. To me, Pluto will always be the 9th planet. So Planet X will be Planet 10 to me, because X equals 10 anyway, right?

Here's a little blurb fro Caltech, where the planet was discovered:

"Caltech researchers have found evidence of a giant planet tracing a bizarre, highly elongated orbit in the outer solar system. The object, which the researchers have nicknamed Planet Nine, has a mass about 10 times that of Earth and orbits about 20 times farther from the sun on average than does Neptune (which orbits the sun at an average distance of 2.8 billion miles). In fact, it would take this new planet between 10,000 and 20,000 years to make just one full orbit around the sun."

Here's the artistic rendering of "Planet TEN":

Regardless of which planet it is, it's still pretty cool. 

Since I have unused vacation time, I'm taking tomorrow and Monday off. I have to get out of the house. I'm going crazy...lol... So, I thought I'd go up toward Tallahassee to visit some aunts, uncles and cousins. My mom is trying her hardest to make me feel guilty and not go. One thing I've learned while caring for her is that I HAVE to take some time for myself sometimes. Having a non-working knee hasn't eased the demands she makes on me, and a couple of days away is really, really needed.

The thing is, I do feel a little guilty, even though I know I shouldn't. Aidan and Joe will be home to help her out. Her problem is that she ONLY wants ME to do everything. She really needs to learn to receive help from others. She does this every time I go away for a night or two, but then she's fine while I'm gone and when I get home, she acts like I never left. I guess she just gets nervous before I go.

Anyway, I'm looking forward to getting away for a couple days!!