Monthly Archives: August 2012

Miss Spider where have you gone


When I was about eight or nine I was bitten by a spider. The only part I remember was waking up in a hospital bed with wires attached to me, my mom sitting next to me in a chair.

I look over and her eyes catches mine. “What happened?” I ask, my voice cracks as my throat is dry.

“The doctor says you were bit by a spider,” she replies with a tired look.

I don’t remember anything else of that day, nor what type of spider it was, but I do know that it had given me a fear of them. As the years had progressed I have curiously read about spiders and have come to respect them. Well, mostly. A spider indoors becomes a dead one, but a spider outside is well left alone.

A few weeks ago I’ve noticed a web building spider, the size of a nickel, right outside the door as I gone to get the morning paper. I curiously stopped to look at her. The size of her web was ghastly in size, reaching from the porch, to our wheelchair ramp; so about three and a half feet in diameter. It glistened in the sunlight as the breeze moved it ever so gently. She was sitting in the center of the web, her legs pulled tightly into her, as if she’s sleeping. She isn’t a widow or a spider I could identify right away. I was mesmerized though.

I would greet her every morning as I passed by her, as if we were old friends, even though it’s a one way conversation. When I returned from class she would be gone, along with her beautiful web. The other day I happened to catch her as she was moving to her hiding spot. She wasn’t the size of a nickel as I thought, but bigger than the size of a quarter.

Yesterday, I went outside to get the morning paper and I noticed Miss Spider wasn’t anywhere to be seen. I looked all around the porch area for her, curious where she might have gone. This morning, again, she wasn’t there. I asked my grandmother if she had seen the big spider outside or if she killed it. She laughed at me and said no. She knows I have a fear of spiders, hence the reason why she laughed at me.

The only reason why I don’t kill spiders while they’re outside is that they have a part in the cycle of life. They kill bugs, especially mosquitos. Mosquitos carry diseases. And Miss Spider had set her web in a perfect spot, right near our door to our house. So I welcome her to catch every little bug that comes this way. Hopefully she’s still around.

A cold is coming


I knew my daughter would catch a cold from daycare, but when. After three days I go to pick her up and her nose is running and she feels warm. I didn’t know she would get sick so soon. After three days of taking care of her, I begin to feel symptoms of a head cold coming. I’m already drinking tea, but start taking air borne, a effervescent vitamin packed with all the necessary things to boost my immune system. I feel it may be too late though. I’m already sneezing like crazy and had to open a brand new box of tissues. On the positive side, it’s the weekend. On the not so positive side, I may have some homework starting tomorrow.

Oh shiny!


Yesterday was my Mother’s birthday. I took her and my dad to dig for diamonds at the Crater of Diamonds National Park in Murfreesboro, Arkansas. It’s the 8th largest diamond mine in the world. It is also the only place in the world where the public can hunt for diamonds and keep what they find.

The weather wasn’t too hot but imagine being out in a treeless field, digging in the dirt, the sun bearing down on you. It tends to get hot quick. No matter, I thought, this was the first time for me to do this and I was going to find me a nice shiny rock. Well, there was a lot of shiny. In fact the dirt even sparkled. Rocks had specks of sparkles.

I hadn’t a clue what to look for. Of course I knew what a diamond looked like, though only in a store window case, after it’s been cleaned and cut and polished. I was digging for the uncut, dirty ones. I’d hold up a shiny rock and say to day, “look at this, is this one?” “No, it crumbles.” “Darn it!” Hand him another one, “what about this one?” “No, I don’t think that’s one, but it’s pretty.”

He and I filled up two buckets of dirt and rented a screen. We walked to the screening area and began screening the rocks and dirt for hopeful, potential diamonds. We picked out clear pieces of white rocks, what we thought were diamonds. We continued to screen and screen until our buckets of dirt were empty.

After two hours we packed up our things and walked up front to show our findings to an ‘expert’. Our clear ‘diamond hopefuls’ were nothing but quartz crystals. So all that trouble to find no diamonds. We found a lot of jasper and some other minerals I had forgotten what the name was already. I did have fun though. And I got the experience for diamond hunting.

Lil Miss first day of school


It’s my daughter’s first day of daycare. I put her down and tell the teachers what time I’ll be back to pick her up. I wave bye to my lil miss and say, “I’ll see you later sweetie.” She doesn’t cling to my leg like a drier sheet, screaming, “Mommy, please don’t go! I want to go with you! Please take me with you!” Instead, she simply runs off to play with the other children.

I’m amazed and happy at how easy this is, but yet, deep inside I’m crushed. I wish to at least comfort my little girl somewhat and say, “You’ll have fun at school, make friends, learn a lot of new things. I’ll be back later to pick you up, it’s only for a few hours.” I watch my little girl from afar, babbling away with two other little girls her age. I say bye to her teachers and leave.

The entire day I was curious what my lil miss was up to. How was her day was going. When I arrived to pick her up it was the moment I sought earlier. She ran up to me and clung to me like that drier sheet I was looking for earlier. She missed me and I missed her.

Crows


To some cultures crows are a symbol.

A symbol of death,

a trickster of sorts,

a clan animal,

a totem.

To most it’s a pesky little bird,

a nuisance,

the one that’s constantly destroying your garden.

Hence the term scarecrow,

the farmer’s garden watcher and protector.

To me, it’s a reminder of fall.

I sit and watch them flying about,

from yard to yard,

tree to tree,

cawing endlessly.

I’m not a true Southerner


I’m not a true Southerner. That’s right, I’m not. At least that’s what someone told. I was born here, in Arkansas but I grew up all over the states. Before I graduated high school, I had lived in five states and had been to twelve different schools. Since then, i added three more states to that list before returning back to Arkansas. I was a military brat, and then I joined the service myself. The US Navy took me all around. At times I wished that I had stayed in just for the travel, but I had to get out because it was just too political.

Why am I not a true Southerner? I hate cole slaw, potato salad, tuna salad, in fact anything followed by the word salad. I only watch the first few laps of NASCAR and the last laps. I honestly don’t understand other than left turn, left turn, left turn for how many laps? I do know what the flags mean and how fast the cars can go. But that’s it. I don’t know anything else about it. Once upon a time I knew a few of the drivers by their car numbers, but I haven’t watched it in years and can see that the cars, numbers, and drivers have changed.

Baseball on the other hand is something I know a little more about. When I was growing up, I was a die-hard Atlanta Braves fan, collecting every card, knowing who was playing that day, their jersey numbers, first, middle, and last name. I even knew their birthdays and stats, what position they played, and who was batting and when. My sister Jaci went as far as to know who they were married to and how many children they had and their names. We kept up with who was traded and to where, and who the newbies were. Now days, I’ll only glance at a game if there’s nothing else on.

Something else I don’t like, catfish. I’d rather have Salmon or maybe some Icelandic Cod. I don’t like to hunt, nor have I ever been. I fish now and then and have even been deep sea fishing.

Oh yeah, is camo really a color? My sister goes crazy for camo decorated everything. She’s more of a country girl than I am. I must’ve been in the city too long. She cannot pass by a Bass Pro shop without going inside.

I don’t use the word’s Ya’ll or Ain’t. I do have a bit of a southern accent, that’s from living here for a while. I imagine if I were to move away, possibly somewhere up North, it wouldn’t take me long before I have a Yankee accent.

I think the only thing I really love that come from this state is the Razorbacks. It didn’t matter where I was living; I always rooted for the HOGS! I love football and have come to know the sport a lot more. Now I start going crazy if I know my team is playing and I can’t watch the game.

I honestly don’t know what really makes you a true Southerner or a true Yankee, but home is where ever you plant your feet. I’ve lived in Arkansas most of my life and know a lot of it’s history. I can tell you what city to visit and what attractions they have that you might be interested in. Maybe I’m not a true southerner, but I am an Arkansan.

Gates please


I have a secret crush for the man whose Destination is Truth. Donning his trademark scarf, aviator glasses, and a ring he wears on a black cord necklace. He and his team travels the world in search for creatures of all kinds, myths and legends, the paranormal, and things that go bump in the night. Showing prestige, courage, and never an ounce of fear. He battles raging rivers, the desert, floods, sand dunes, snakes, spiders, dark caves, weather of all kinds, and dives to the bottom of the murky water. Absolutely a man of skill, showing he can even free climb or scale walls and cliffs; he can drive anything on wheels, including a panzer. He is like a modern day, iconic Indiana Jones. He is Josh Gates.

And now my crush isn’t so secret anymore 😉