For the birds. . .

I enjoy watching and feeding the wild birds that visit my yard. There are lots of them. I have birdfeeders and birdhouses (that I made myself!) here and there and I often enjoy sitting on my swing to listen and watch.

I have a pair of Carolina Wrens who have called my butterfly garden home for the past couple of years. They have built nests and hung out - singing their sweet songs as I sit and watch them.

Yesterday I noticed a nest in a tree limb about 20 feet up - directly over my butterfly garden. I took a pic and decided to keep an eye open for the birds that might have built it.

Today I think I saw the builders - a pair of Robins. The nest is too high for me to know if there are babies in it, but I'll keep an eye on it to see if I can figure out what's shakin'.

I danced with the devil. . .sort of

Well I did it - I held a tarantula. And I survived, but you figured that one out. I wouldn't be writing this and you wouldn't be reading if I'd died from fright.

I took my kids to the local library for a reading program about bugs. The presenter had a few live bugs for the kids to see and even hold - one of which was a tarantula.

Now, I'm not fond of spiders and everybody knows it, but I decided to do something adventurous and hold the tarantula. When the lady asked "Who wants to hold the spider?" I said "I do!"

My kids were shocked. They were certain that Mom was going to spaz out, but I am proud to report that I did it. She set the tarantula in my hands and the critter started to shimmy up my hand a bit toward my arm and I didn't throw it across the room.

My mother even took a picture of me holding the thing - although it sort of looks like I'm smiling. That is actually a grimace.

I am proud of myself - because I have discovered that I am more adventurous as I get older. Ten years ago I would have never even considered doing such a thing.

The best part is that I proved to myself that I could step out of my comfort zone and survive.

Facing my fear: Arachnophobia

I don't like spiders. I talk in depth about my arachnophobia in an article I wrote here.

I have tried hard to relax my stance on spiders. I try not to spaz out every time one gets near me. It doesn't always work.

In fact, as part of my rehabilitation I have allowed a spider to reside in our house. This is one of those furry black (and harmless) spiders who hangs out on the ceiling. He crawls from room to room in our house on the ceiling. We've named him Larry.

But I digress. This week there is going to be a reading program for the kids at our local library and there is going to be a tarantula on display. Anyone who wants to will be able to hold the darn thing (obviously there are nutcases out there who would like to do such a stupid thing).

I've found myself toying with the idea of holding the sucker in an attempt to overcome my arachnophobia.

So, friends and readers, what do you think? Should I do it?

There's a gun in the bathtub and a hammer on my head

There must be an unwritten rule that says a Mom's life is not supposed to be easy.

Yesterday was an officially unofficial "Bicker Day" in my house. We celebrated well into the night while my brains slowly leaked down the back of my neck.

My three precious wee ones chose to argue over lint, the weather, Monopoly money, who got the first whatevertheheckitwas and other intricacies of life.

I threatened to run away, sell them to a traveling gypsy, run away (they would find me and bring me back) and finally bring the hammer down - on my own head to put me out of my misery. I believe at one point I begged for someone to kill me or kidnap me but even strangers wouldn't get near me - they were afraid of the kids.

My life is stupidly interesting - who knew a boring life could be so exciting?

Case in point: For the last week I have had a recurring thought each time I step into the shower. It is: "I wish someone would move that gun."

Gun? In the shower? Yep. Only in my house.

You see, my brother gave my kids a water pistol that resembles a real pistol and of course they've enjoyed the thrill of the hunt with this gun. When they got finished with it the other day somebody threw it into the bathtub - where it stayed.

So for the last week every time I have stepped into the shower I have seen the gun and had the same series of thoughts: "I wish someone would move that gun," followed by "I wish someone would clean this shower."

Wait, clean the shower? Oh - that's my job. Which is why I wish someone else would do it.

Lo and behold - it happened though. Not the clean shower - the gun was removed! Hurrah! Huzzah! Whatever.

It now sits on my bathroom sink.

So now my thought process is "I wish someone would move that gun" followed by "I wish someone would clean the shower" with "I wish someone would clean the sink" close on its heels (and a slight aftertaste of "I wish someone would clean this bathroom.")

Where's that hammer?

What am I thinking today?

Not much.

It's a beautiful day outside and I'm in a funk. I've been stuck in funk for a few days now and I need to get un-funked.

Tomorrow I get the chance to get out of the house (and away from the computer!) to visit with real, living, breathing people who call themselves my friends.

I can't wait, but I hope it's not raining so our plans will be able to include playtime for the kids at the park.

Ahhh, I know - I'll pray for a butterfly - that always unsticks the funks in my life.

I love butterflies and seeing one is always a reminder to me that God loves me and nothing in my life is bigger than that fact.

I hate feeling yucky!

That's exactly how I feel today, though. Yucky. Miserable. Tired. Ready to go back to bed.

I'm supposed to be writing today - I have lots to get done, but I just can't think very well and I feel like a giant slug. Here's a poem I wrote to describe how I feel.

Why, oh why
do you betray me
flesh and bone and gray matter?

You cage and enrage
the real me
keeping me at your mercy
and beck and call

You scream at me
to sleep
to nap -
I must obey

I will pout -
incapable of ignoring
couch lure
while the keyboard
calls longingly
begging for my stroke

Oh to have such masters!
My body betrays me
and
chooses
the spinning wheel prick
- no guilt
sweet dreams
while the keyboard sobs
and plots revenge

Amusement parks, wooden roller coasters and near-death experiences

I just posted a slideshow and an article on my AC page about our trip to Holiday World Splashin' Safari in Santa Claus, Indiana.

I hate wooden roller coasters, but I decided to give not just one, but two wooden roller coasters a go while at Holiday World. Stupid, stupid me. My trip on the wooden coasters is the basis of my article - so have a read and tell me what you think.

Will I ever go on another wooden roller coaster? Nope. Never. Ever.