Creature News

A guy with a dozier hauled the trailer over to our property yesterday. He brought it right down the power line road and unhooked it between two oak trees we managed to hold onto when the land was cleared. It looks good. Well, on the site, anyhow. There's work to be done.

This morning Ed and Wilburn went over to put in some new light fixtures, pull up the carpet in the second bathroom (why, oh why, do people do that) and perform other fixing-up tasks. The cabinets and cupboards now have a sticky second coat and look good. The color looks better every time I see it and I'm glad we went with something a little bold, a little unexpected. During a raid at Lowe's yesterday, we picked up some cheap brushed aluminum handles and drawer pulls; they look smashing in the turquoisey green kitchen. I spent some time this morning working on a nasty job I didn't complete last week -- cleaning out the fridge. Nothing like breathing through your mouth while using Pine Sol to remove rotten food spills. I love rubber gloves. I would have never taken to any of this house cleaning business it I hadn't discovered rubber gloves. With them on, I feel nigh invincible. I still have the shelves and bottom drawers to do. I brought them over to this side of the lake so I could hit 'em with the hose tomorrow.

The trailer is coming along. News this afternoon that the guy is coming to set it up next Monday. From what I gather, he'll get the permit and get someone out here to inspect it. In the wake of recent events, we don't think the "hurricane rating" means much. We'll evacuate if a storm heads our way. The well man is supposed to show up next week as well. When the well is dug and functional, we (meaning one of the menfolks) can run the lines from the trailer to the new septic tank. It's a huge tank and we figure that, with just the two of us, we'll have to pump it every 20 years. For the time being, however, we have to empty the tank in the motorhome every three days. That's another manjob.

Yesterday, I drove back from the trailer sitting on the lowered tailgate of the little Ford. Man, it has been years since I rode on a tailgate and, of course, it's illegal on a public highway. I loved having the breeze whipping around in my hair and watching my feet dangle over the high weeds in the middle of the road. Reminded me of when I was a kid and my mom and my aunt used to load us kids into the back of a truck and take us swimming at a cold little creek called Turkey Hen. We still haven't taken a dip in the lake here. Ed saw a 4-ft alligator sitting on the top of the catfish cage a few days ago. This was in the evening when he went down to fish. He hustled back to the house and got one of my grandfather's rifles, took a couple of shots, but, alas, the gator gotta way. My cousin who works for Gulf Power says he knows a guy at work that can come out and get the gator. I think you have to have a gator gettin' license. Meanwhile, we'll stay out of the lake.

In other creature news, Wilburn found a nest of water mocassins at the foot of an oak tree in front of my grandparents' place last week. He tipped over the pump housing, ran up to his truck, and came back with a little gun that sounded like a cap pistol. Ed says it was a .22. Anyway, he emptied the barrel on the nest, then scraped the snakes up out of the grass with a plastic oar. I went over to take a look because I didn't know what a water mocassin looked like and I thought the info might come in handy sometime. There was one large snake, the mama, about 3 ft long, gray with black marks, and a bunch of snakelets. Personally, I thought it was a tad overkill after seeing all the little ones. The way Wilburn was shooting, you'd have thought there were some monsters in there. Ed saw a black snake with a yellow mouth crossing the road the other day. I don't know what kind of snake that was, but you'd think it would be hard for him to sneak up on prey with a mouth like that.

On my morning walk, I saw two wild turkeys flying from tree to tree. I did not know turkeys could fly. They are not exactly aerodynamic. Also, I thought it was against the law to shoot a wild turkey, but my grandfather says they have a turkey season here. It figures. They shoot everything -- deer, doves, quail, turkeys. I found a beautiful wild turkey feather along the road and stuck it in my hair. When I got home and showed it to my grandmother she suggested I throw it in the trash. Instead, I gave it to my husband, an early birthday present. He appreciated it.

My husband is going on some kind of guys-in-the-woods thing this weekend, a catfish rodeo on the Choctawhatchee River that starts at 4 p.m. Friday and goes 24 hours. I saw the flyer and they have a few rules. You have to bring the catfish back ALIVE, they have to be 14" long, and you have to be willing to submit to a polygraph test if you win. No kidding. The guy that won last year had a fish that weighed in at only 5 lbs. I figure Ed can beat that and grab the $750 first place prize. Then we can fill up the car. My husband says that he and my father will sleep in the back of the pick up and everything is provided -- sleeping bags, fishing gear, and Spam and beans. It will be interesting to see if either of them gets any sleep or if they keep each other awake snoring. I suppose if I was a really brave and curious female, I'd go on this outing just so I could write about it and find out what REALLY happens when men get together in the woods. Then again, maybe not.

We went to First Pres in DeFuniak last Sunday. It's a lovely old church set on the shore of Lake DeFuniak, and since we arrived early, we were able to take Circle Drive around the lake and oogle all the beautiful old houses. I tease my husband about buying a Victorian or Antebellum mansion with good bones; he'd have a "project" for life! The church was built in 1883 and has an open domed sanctuary with dark wood pews and floorboards. Up in front, behind the choir loft, is a painting of Jesus ascending into the clouds as several of his disciples look on. It's the first church we've been to with a real sense of history. The folks were nice, too, and we were welcomed by half a dozen people or more before the service began. I was pleasantly surprised to see they have a newer hymnal, similar to the one we used at Community Pres, and they also have a younger pastor, probably in his 40s. The congregation was a solid mix of young and old. I sensed this church had set its face towards the future; there was a kind of resolve to remain relevant and involved. We took Communion and I wondered, could I love these people as I loved my family at Community Pres? Could I enter into a life of service with them, learning from them and growing with them? Faith takes circuituous routes, but every Christian is meant to belong somewhere. Christian life takes place in community. I believe that.

My husband is back from fishing and it's time to head over to the bath house. He caught two fish tonight, warming up for the catfish rodeo!