Three Blind Mice (Or Rats)

Okay, I have to postpone White Mountain, because I have another story to tell. So, suffer through some cuteness for a little while, and let me tell you a story about three blind mice.

So I have one week left at my NSB home, and James came yesterday to help me tackle the garage today.

Near the end of a long day of hard labor I probably shouldn't have been doing, we dumped the contents of a chewed-on box onto the driveway. There was a bunch of old newspaper inside, all chewed up--the perfect little mouse (or rat) nest...

And suddenly, from the paper crawled six adorable, tiny, blind mouse (or rat) babies on 24 wobbly little feet. At first, with no momma mouse (or rat) in sight, we were going to just let them crawl into the shrubs to probably die.

But as they made their shaky way over pieces of bark twice as big as they were, my mind conjured up pictures of them suffering long, drawn out deaths due to exposure and starvation, or being gobbled up by the stray cat that made Terrible pregnant. I could hear their fragile little bones breaking in my head, and as I continued to watch, I think my heart bled a little.

"I can't do it," I told James.

"Well, what else can you do? They're probably gonna die anyway," he replied.

"I'm going to get a shoebox, and put them in there, and think of something to do, or someone to take them." I got up and rushed into the house without waiting for him to answer.

By the time I got back outside, only a few seconds later, three of the mice (or rats) couldn't be found, and we searched pretty good for them.

But the other three, I put into the box with some of the newspaper. I set the box aside and we finished the garage.

After a much-needed shower, Karen came over to look through some of my mom's clothes to give to her mom. Before she left, I said, "There's one more thing I want you to see, and maybe Deanne (her daughter) or Ben (Dr.Kollmer's son), can help them.

She gave me one of those looks, and I showed her the babies. She agreed they were as cute as can be, and she even held them, to my surprise. She said she'd ask Ben if he wanted to try to save them.

Her text came back a little later and basically said Ben wanted to feed them to a snake. Thanks a lot, Ben! Lol.

Then, the answer came to me...Aidan, the adopter of horrible cats and other animals, is a momma at heart, and even though she proclaims to be scared of mice, I knew her heart was soft for all cute-appearing things.

Before I texted her, I warmed up some condensed milk and got a little dental syringe and attempted to feed Simon, Melville, and Drake (the first three names that came to mind as I picked each one up to feed it). Simon must be the runt...he's very tiny.

They ate a little bit and I returned them to the newspaper where they felt safe.

Aidan, of course, wants them desperately, and has already declared she's changing Simon and Melville's names. I knew she'd keep Drake. Lol. I reminded her they would be hard to save, but at
least they would have a chance.

So, amid other childhood treasures I rediscovered today, like my pewter unicorn...

About one and a half inches tall...

and a baby doll whose hair I tried to massacre, we also found some tinier treasures that I have to try and save, if I can...the three blind mice (they're so tiny their eyes aren't open yet). Whether they're mice or rats, it doesn't matter--their little hearts beat, which makes them sacred, in my book.

Just a little longer...

I promise I'll have the White Mountain pics and story up soon. My official move-out date is next Sunday, and there's still a lot to be done before then. And I'm moving a little slower for the time being, so that doesn't help. But James got here today, and there was this fascinating show on the Smithsonian Channel about shrunken heads and head hunters, so James promptly fell asleep. Lol. He deserves a good nap, though, for all he's doing to help me move!

And for those who have sent emails, I'll reply to them as soon as I can... :)

Funny Thing

This afternoon, James sent me a text that said something like: "Are you enjoying your freedom and being able to do what you want?"

I replied that the answer was both yes and no, because when I went to work, it was what I wanted to do. I enjoy working with patients, and I like excelling at something. I don't like my former boss saying that without me, the job is tolerable, at best. Here at home, with things being packed up and moved out, I feel weird...almost like an unbelonging (I know that's not a real word, but that's the best way to describe it).

At the same time, I'm happy and excited for the future. It's just a strange, middle feeling, I suppose. I guess it's the feeling of change in a person that doesn't like change. Well, it's not necessarily that I don't like change, but that change is stressful.

Which I guess leads me to this video that announces the big upcoming change (if you watch all the way through, you will see how FF was involved):

So, yeah, there you go...I said yes, and I'm moving forward. James is a good man, and good for me. I don't know what else to say today.

Except that we buried this at the site in a plastic box inside a ziplock bag:

I'll post about White Mountain tomorrow.

But here's a few more pics from Fennboree:

 

The Boar's Tusk

Sometimes things have to be done out of order. Like my next few posts. I'm skipping back to our excursion to Boar's Tusk, a very unique feature near Rock Springs, Wyoming.

I've been interested in this strange landmark since my research of name meanings, way back at the beginning of the chase. One of Eric Sloane's names literally means "boar," and I've felt that a piece of Eric went into the poem as Forrest wrote it.

Forrest seems to have reinforced it with his scrapbook titled "Not Just a Pig," which was about some wild boars he raised. Then, there was a featured question where "blaze" was spelled "blase." A meaning of "blase" is boring. Bore sounds like boar.

The isolated Boar's Tusk rises above the Killpecker Creek (what does saltpeter do to young military cadets? Lol) plain at an altitude of 6808 feet above sea level. The ancient extinct volcano is an impressive sight from miles away. Boar's Tusk has one twin in the US--Devil's Tower, in Northwest Wyoming.

It was something I had to see and experience first hand. The volcanic remnant of the distant past is composed of the uncommon mineral, lamprolite, which sounds like a blaze in itself. Lamprolite and bananas have something in common--lots of potassium.

So, I plugged the location into my navigation, and soon James was driving our rental Kia SUV along a dirt road north of Rock Springs.

 Here we are just before the trip, ready for adventure:

The road was easy peasy at first, but as we grew closer and Boar's Tusk became visible in the distance, the road became less smooth, and more like a swampy, muddy mess with potholes a'plenty.

At one point, activity on the road ahead drew our attention. It appeared to be two large vultures feasting on roadkill, but as we neared the scene, the two gigantic birds took flight.

"Oh my God, oh my God!" I yelled, fumbling for my phone to get pictures like a teenage girl fumbles for her car keys when being pursued by an ax murderer.

They weren't vultures--they were eagles.  And as the majestic rapters took flight and we passed the roadkill, I looked back and one eagle was flying low toward the car on my side, approaching fast. And I was still clumsily fumbling to get the video feature on my phone going. It was like my fingertips were marshmallows or something.

The eagle was so close I could see the sharp point of her beak and the glint in her dark eyes. I still don't know if I got it on video, but as she climbed the sky and gracefully turned to join her mate, I got one nice picture.

I was beginning to think we wouldn't make it to our destination--so close and yet so far--as James had to leave the road entirely and drive over some sagebrush and a shallow ditch to avoid a huge pothole filled with muddy water of unknown depth.

That was where some fawn-colored cows were hanging out, and when I exited the car to guide James over the tricky terrain, they mooed at me with a vengeance. A calf was about ten feet or so away from me, and it lowed, calling out for it's momma. The momma was behind me, about thrirty feet away, and answered the baby. I imagine she said, "Agnes, get your little brown butt over here, now! Humans are dangerous and they'll poke your eye out!"

So, Agnes booked it on over to her momma, and James inched past the ditch to safe road.

Finally, we arrived at the giant rock, and with very little imagination, I could see the resemblance to a boar's tusk.

 
I gazed up at the ancient sentinel of the desert with awe, and wondered what the Indians who lived there in the distant past thought about the strange looking monolith. Did the dark, volcanic core have any spiritual significance? Did they fear or revere it? Was it somehow sacred to them? I don't know, but I'd love to find out. Discovering how the ancient peoples lived their lives and what philosophies, superstitions, and individual stories they held close to their hearts is one of my passions.  In moments of romantic reflection, those thoughts fill me with an unquenchable curiosity. 

When we got out of the car to look around, about five million or so starving mosquitoes mobbed us in a fierce black cloud of nasty. I hate those things, and I could imagine the horror-filled stares that would await us when we showed up at Fennboree looking like the victims of smallpox.

Here's a pic of a rock formation near the base of the tusk that looks like the stony profile of a man's face. He appears to be staring out over the Killpecker plain with a watchful, stoic satisfaction.

And although the scenery was beautiful in a raw, wild, and earthy way, I couldn't see Forrest hiding the treasure chest there. To me, it wasn't a specific enough location, and walking up the sloped side of the base of the formation would've been tough for us, and nearly impossible for an 80 year old man. So when James said, "Let's get out of here," I enthusiastically agreed, smacking the life out of a blood-filled mosquito on my arm.

As James drove away, I glanced back once more at the old boar of the desert. Silently, I thanked him for hanging around long enough for me to visit him, and in my mind, offered a reverent "goodbye."

Tomorrow, I'll post about our exciting adventure to nearby White Mountain, with it's smoky rock shelters and prolific petroglyphs. 

Where do I start?

Fennboree 2017 was a roaring success. No one was murdered. No fights broke out. All people from all blogs chatted together happily, and many friends were made.

Forrest made two appearances--he came for a few hours on Friday, and a couple hours on Saturday.

Friday afternoon was the hot dog roast, but I was so busy talking with old friends and new friends that I forgot to eat.

I know some people took lots of pics, but this post has a smattering of the very few James or I took.

A few "legends" made their first appearances at Fennboree--Diggin Gypsy was one, and one asked me not to post about her on the blog. It was great to see both of them for the first time, face to face. The other legend to make an appearance was Jenny Kile, who was as nice as can be, and very personable, along with her husband.

Jenny when she arrived:

James and I stayed until around 10:30 pm on Friday night, and near the end of the night, I discovered the guy I was talking to with Dal and James and Brooke lives about two miles from me in Florida. It was definitely a "wow" moment!

There were a couple of people writing books about the Chase on hand--one was Dan, a former writer for The Wall Street Journal, and I enjoyed speaking with him at length about the chase, and introducing him to as many "big names" as I could.

I also enjoyed meeting Ben and his wife, Laura, and had the pleasure of introducing them to Forrest. Ben has been researching the poem and following the blogs for about a year, but I don't see how he has much time, because he's an oncology surgeon. Forrest, as a cancer survivor, was very pleased to meet him and his beautiful wife.

Yesterday morning, I didn't feel very well. James and I have both been struggling with lingering colds. When we got to the campground, I sorta flopped on the ground next to Stephanie, and we chatted a while. NTMI had brought over his chair and graciously allowed me to sit on it next to Forrest. 

Forrest is a really cool guy. He engaged every searcher with his squinty blue eyes and casual humor. He was very cordial and pleasant, and every person that approached him received a smile and a question about where they were from. He signed every book brought before him, and in some, he drew little doodles. It was interesting to see him draw the seemingly meaningless little squiggles on their names.

And I also noticed that each time a man or woman held out their hand for him to shake, Forrest would remove his hat and stand in respect. I thought that was very gentlemanly and made him very personable.

He would also come out with some quick one liners that made me laugh. One time, a man asked if he and his family could have their picture taken with him. Without missing a beat, Forrest pointed at me and said, "You should be asking Mindy here for a picture with her; she's one of the top dogs," or something like that. I just shook my head and smiled.

At one point, Forrest leaned over while I was chugging down Powerade to restore some much needed electrolytes and asked, "Mindy, how old are you?" That caught me off guard, and I didn't have time to come up with a quick snappy answer, so I just told the truth. "Forty-eight." He replied, "You don't have another 74 years left then."

Nope, I sure don't! Lol.

As the day wore on, I started to feel better, and chatted with a bunch of searchers. The doodle contest was fun. I won second place for my silly little doodle (Thanks to whoever voted for me!) Dal said he was going to post the winner's doodles on his blog sometime.

I have a lot of respect of every searcher I met. I enjoyed talking to Brooke, who I briefly met last year but didn't get to talk to much. Of course, Spallies and Boomergirl and JDiggins are my peeps and I love them to death. Old Drum has so many interesting stories, and his wife, Sandra, is just a sweetheart. She kept bringing jars of jam to Forrest until Forrest couldn't find anywhere to put them. I think Shiloh stepped up and took them to the car.

Here's Old Drum and Sandra greeting Forrest:

And speaking of Shiloh, I got to meet the young man on Friday night, and he knew a little about me. We talked and joked for a while, then talked seriously about his business and what he does. They basically take old burnt wood and recondition it for flooring, which he sells all over the world. He even sold wood flooring to a place in Dubai! Anyway, I told him I think he's a great young man with a great work ethic. If anyone is interested in seeing his business, you can find it on the web here.

I enjoyed talking with Iron Will, who happens to be a big nerd like me. When Forrest was around, I said to him, "Iron Will and I are big nerds." And Forrest replied, "When you look up that word in the dictionary, you see a picture of me." Everyone laughed.

Well, maybe this picture is the one in the dictionary:

The owner of the hat is a really cool guy, David, who invented the Jelly Belly. The hat was made by the same man who made costumes for Elvis Presley.

Mike D or Mr D and I had a few good conversations. He's overcome a lot, and that guy is a GREAT painter! If you're reading this, Mike, send me a pic of one of your paintings so everyone can see your talent!

Heidini showed me her marvelous charm bracelets. They were very pretty! Heidini, if you read this send me a pic so everyone can see!

WiseOne told some exciting and pretty scary stories of her searching alone.

Seattle Sullivan and I shared a few comments. He's a smart guy...and I heard through the grapevine that Forrest said he was a genius at Fennboree.

Cynthia was awesome, as usual.

Desertphile was his usual quirky and quick-witted self. He has written a book and is in the process of looking for an agent. It looks like a pretty hilarious and great book. He, Wisconsin Christine (14 year old genius), and I broke into Cohen's "Hallelujah," when Christine said she liked to sing. It was pretty funny, because I can't sing. A little Crown in my coke was enough to temporarily lower a few inhibitions. Lol.

Here's a pic of the phile, holding an advance copy of his book:

Amy was a sweet princess, friendly as ever, and just so generous and funny and all around awesome. She invited me and James to stay in her home if we search Colorado. We just seemed to hit it off, and I can see us becoming good friends.

And I met Amy Sweitzer, too, and her husband, for the first time. They were very nice and friendly. Here's a distant pic of Amy S. and FF:

Fred Y was someone new, and he was pretty smart with good suggestions.

Patrick is the guy who lives in Port Orange and took his 79 year old dad with him to Fennboree. I think we exchanged an email or two a while back, but we didn't know we'd actually meet at Fennboree. It was a great moment, realizing the world really is sorta small while at the same time being so huge that even narrowing down the Rocky Mountains, no one can find the chest.

Okay, so I'm going to relate this whole trip in a backwards fashion. In the next few days, I'll post trip reports about sites we visited accompanied with lots of pictures. Some of you may already know the extra special news, but I'll post that soon for everyone else in the next week.

Bittersweet Day Ahead

Today is my last day of work for New Smyrna Orthopedics. I have loved that job more than any other job I've ever had, and have developed strong relationships with many of my coworkers.

And even though they know I don't like to be a surprise center of attention, Karen and our office manager surprised me yesterday with two things I like very much--Chick Fil A and vanilla cake with vanilla frosting. And it was no ordinary cake. I actually cried when I saw it, it was just so ugly and beautiful and childlike and delicious all at the same time.

I think the tears came when I read the caption. Karen said she and the other girls spent some time thinking of how to get the word "treasure" into their goodbye cake message.

And isn't that so true? We tend to flippantly refer to treasure as meaning gold or jewels or things a dragon would hoard that you find buried or in a dragon's den somewhere. But one thing I've learned during the past few years is that there are treasures EVERYWHERE.

And I will treasure the memories made during my time at NSO.

Here's a pic of me when Karen said, "Oh, I Just have to do this." I am notorious for avoiding huggy-kissy displays of affection in the office, so I played my part, but couldn't help smiling.

I had to leave to take Joe to the airport right after I ate a few bites of Chick Fil A, so I didn't have time for a piece of cake, but I did swipe my finger along the blue rim of frosting before I left. I'll have a piece today, for sure. Oh yeah, there was even a little treasure map stuck in the cake, and it coincidentally had a cross on it, which is a feature in one of my solves:

So, today I feel a little bittersweet. I have absolutely loved that job and the people I worked with. But, at the same time, I'm starting a new chapter of my life, with new adventures ahead, and I'm excited about that.

Anyway, I got Joe off to CA last night, even though we were waiting at the airport in Orlando (which was very crowded) for hours as we waited for storms to pass.

So, tomorrow will bring with it's sunshine a new adventure in my life. I'm excited, thrilled, and in anticipation of the awe I'm sure I'll feel when exploring southern Wyoming, Colorado, and New Mexico.

We have a lot we want to do in the week we'll be there, and are looking forward to seeing old friends and making new friends at Fennboree.

Happy Freyja/Frigga's Day!

Some Randomness

I slept in today because I only slept a little last night. For some reason, that's when my knee bothers me the most.

This last week of work is hard. I am going to miss it so much. I'm going to miss Karen so much--she's been like a mom and a best friend and all that I could ask for in a coworker and boss.

I'm going to miss Bob, who I call Bobert, who's one of our PA's. He affectionately calls me "Bratface," and I affectionately also call him "Bratface," (in addition to) because I couldn't come up with a comeback nickname quick enough. He also calls me Mindy McConnell for some reason. I think he thinks it was Mindy's last name from Mork and Mindy, but I've never checked to see if that was true.

I'm going to miss Patty, the check out receptionist, because she is Monet's new momma. I don't know if I told you guys this, but with my work and the kittens everywhere, Monet was becoming nervous, and just not getting the attention she deserved. Patty is a die-hard dog lover, and her dog, Dakota, is old and blind and about ready to pass on. Monet and Dakota look exactly the same.

Anyway, when I realized Monet just wasn't getting the attention she needed, and when I saw how worried and distressed Patty was becoming over Dakota's health, I knew that Monet could fill the gap in Patty's heart when Dakota was no longer there. I offered her to Patty, and Patty welcomed Monet with open arms. We are allowed to visit whenever we want, and Monet is LOVING her new momma and daddy. Patty constantly sends me videos and pictures of a very happy Monet, and I know I made the right choice, even though I have a gap in my heart where Monet should be. But it's okay, because I know Monet is loved. Patty and Dale, her husband, have given her the nickname of "Licky," because she loves to give kisses. Lol.

Here are a couple recent pics of "Licky."

I'm going to miss Carolyn, the check in receptionist, even though she sneaks into my office and eats my popcorn, because she makes me laugh. She's a kid at heart like me, and has a bunch of fidget things by her desk that I play with. She keeps a big barrel of animal cookies by her desk and has a drawer full of chocolate. Sometimes, if she sees me putting my hand in the cookie jar, she'll throw an orange highlighter at me. Of course, I throw it back.

I'm going to miss Dr. Kollmer's easygoing personality and his "doctor-speak." I think it's funny when he tries to explain relatively simple things in the most complex way imaginable.

I'm just going to miss everyone and everything about my job. I enjoyed going to work every day. It was a great experience, and I leave there much more knowledgeable than when I started there over five years ago.

Okay, in other random news, two of my best friends ever have realized a dream they've worked hard for. Bev and Joel recently opened for Mark Schultz, a popular Christian musician, at Webster Hall in NYC. I'm so happy for them! They are soooo talented, and Bev's voice is phenomenal. Here are some of the pics she posted on Facebook:

A'Viking is looking sleek and spiffy with the new rims and window tint:

I took Aidan for a ride in it the other day when I got home from work, and we took a quick selfie inside.

Hmmmm, what else? Oh yeah, Joe leaves for California today. He'll be gone for only a few weeks, because he wants to get settled into our new home and have some fun with his momma this summer. :)

Happy Thorsday!