"Beats Me...Really!"

I'm suspecting that my readership may be down due to fact that my last two blog entries have been obsessing about my trying to eradicate the fruit rat(s) that have taken up residence in my attic. The world is otherwise going to hell in a hand basket and my biggest problem is a rodent? I need to move on...and I think (I hope) that the focus of my attention has done so as well.

Summation: Five traps baited. Five traps still fully armed. Score: Rodent(s) 1 - Traps 0. No further annoying scratching sounds emanating from the walls. Judi happy. Cats now bored.

Conclusion: (A) Rodent(s) playing craftily coy. Will make it's presence known again later. (B) Rodent(s) in the wall unable to climb back up to the attic. Are now dying or have already succumbed in the wall. Great! Just great! (I'm being sarcastic). (C) Rodent(s) found way out of inhospitable house and departed for other locale. Great! (Not being sarcastic...just hopeful). (D) Stray black cat that resides part time beneath the crawl space of the house took care of the problem once and for all. Great? We'd have to ask the cat.

Hopefully I'm through with the rodent saga. Now I can move on with the other problems in my life. Like, how come there are no more cookies in the cookie tin and there isn't enough mayonaise left to make a decent sandwich? And you think you've got problems...

"Snickers? Not So Much..."

Well, it appears, thus far, that my theory that fruit rats cannot pass up the opportunity to nibble on an offered Snickers candy bar is meeting with less than resounding success. Yesterday afternoon I baited five traps with this delectable morsel expecting to hear a resounding SNAP ! within mere minutes. I'm still waiting...

Upon returning form the college basketball game last night, Judi informed me that she had heard no further scratching nosies in the walls. "That's a good sign," I replied reassuringly. Five minutes later she is calling me to come to the bedroom. I entered the room to find three pairs of ears (Judi's and our two cats) cocked to the obvious scratching noises coming from the back of the bed.

"Listen," she said in a hushed voice.

"Yes, I hear it. Why are you whispering?" (That question was greeted with the look that every married man is quite familiar.)

"They're back!!"

"I don't think they ever left." (The look again.) "I'm not sure what we can do about them being in the walls. All of the traps are nine feet above them in the attic. We'll just have to wait them out."

"What do we do in the mean time?"

"Talk to your two cats. See if they have a solution." (Once again the look.)

Wishing to assuage Judi's obvious and understandable concern, I did my best to assure her that the chances of the critters getting out of the walls and into our living space, especially with out two cats on the prowl, would be very slim at best. Sweetpea and Calli remained ever vigilant throughout the night, constantly patrolling beneath the bed and pawing at the walls whenever they detected yet another sound that alerted to them that something was amiss. Judi slept through the night.

I climbed back up into the attic this morning to determine if during the night one or more of the baited traps had been sprung. Nope....still exactly where I placed each, fully cocked and armed for the kill. I'll give it a couple more days. Surely they can't keep passing up Snickers...can they? Perhaps this evening I'll put little signs in front of each trap with an arrow pointing to the candy. "This way boys for a bite-sized snack that is to die for!" I hate being outwitted by a rodent.

"Unwelcomed Visitors"

"My Judi has an acute sense of hearing. She can hear a pin drop in the next room. I think this is an innate ability possessed by all women that is only heightened and enhanced once they have children. My window rattling snoring, although aggravating to her, won't stir her from a sound sleep once she signs off for the night. But let the slightest unfamiliar noise emanate from somewhere in our home and she's fully conscience and determined to identify the source of the disturbance. This ability came to the fore once again last night.

"Do you hear that?," Judi was frantically repeating as she finally roused me from what had been a very peaceful and obviously unaware sound sleep.

"Hear what?," I asked groggily.

"Shush!! Listen... There's something scratching in the walls. There it is again!"

"My guess is it's either a squirrel or a fruit rat," I volunteered, knowing full well that it was a fruit rat having spied one scurrying along the outer edge of our attic when I had been up there on Sunday putting away Christmas decorations. But, trust me, I wasn't about to reveal that observation, it now being very early in the a.m. on Wednesday morning.

"Go back to sleep. The cats will stand guard and I'll set out traps tomorrow."

"God, I hate those things!," as Judi returned to a prone position and pulled the bed covers over her head.

This wasn't the first time we'd been visited by these vermin. A number of years back, when we still had several orange trees in our yard, we were infested with them one summer. It took me the better part of a month to eradicate them. The scourge of citrus canker eventually wiped out our orange trees and we hadn't any reoccurring issues with fruit rats...until now.

So, before leaving for work this morning I relocated the rat traps I had stored in the garage and put them aside so that I could set them out later today...after I pick up a couple of Snickers candy bars. They love Snickers candy bars. I tried peanut butter, but they turned their noses up at that offering. I tried cheese. Same result. Snicker Candy bars did the trick. I don't look forward to baiting the traps. They are the largest variety. Large enough to stop a Bull Elephant in full charge. When one of those traps is sprung it best not to have a finger, hand, or arm anywhere in the vicinity.

As I left this morning our two house cats were on full alert, earnestly patrolling back and forth in the area where they last heard curious noises. That seemed to give Judi some comfort, as did my promise to set the traps out before leaving for the evening to attend the USF basketball game. I expect that when I return home later in the evening I'll find the Snickers have again done their dastardly duty and I'll get to dispose of the evidence. That's another task that ranks right up there on the list of things I'd prefer to avoid. But it will be worth it if Judi can sleep through the night and, therefore, me too.

"Too Late Smart...Too Soon Old..."

There's nothing wrong with growing "old." The sad fact of life is when growing older is accompanied by becoming "feeble." That condition unfortunately describes Judi's Mother, Frances. Mother-In Law has succumbed to being a burden...to herself and, whether we like it or not...to Judi and me.

Yesterday afternoon I visited Frances to deliver and program the new phone we had given her as a Christmas present. She was in our home on Christmas when she opened it. Yesterday, she had no recollection of that event. I wasn't surprised. I painstakingly described in the most simplistic language how she was to operate her phone, showing her how to make and receive a call, and wrote out the instructions on how to speed dial the few numbers she calls most frequently. She practiced and I felt she understood. I was wrong.

About 10 p.m. later last evening she calls our home, talks with Judi, and says she "Doesn't understand how to use her new phone." Could she have her old phone back? I'm thinking, "She just called us. What else could she not possibly understand?" Judi told her Mom that she would come over to help her better understand. I wasn't holding out much hope that this additional training session or ten more would make any significant difference, but one does what one must to try and alleviate the difficulty of the moment.

At 11 p.m. Judi calls to say that her Mom was not feeling well and that she would stay with her a little while. At midnight Judi calls again and announces that she has called for an ambulance to take Mother to the hospital. So thoroughly frustrated and agitated did Mother become over trying to master the phone that she dissolved into a mental and physical meltdown, declaring that her head hurt so much that she felt it was "going to explode!" A battery of test were run, and other than her always elevated blood pressure, she checked out "okay." At 3:15 a.m. Judi takes Mother back to her home and arrives at our house at 3:30. Judi reports that Mother is "in fine spirits" and was ready to call it a night. We finally turn out the bedroom lights around 4 after discussing, yet again,"What are we going to do about Mother." All options are again be carefully weighted, but because of financial limitations, none offer an ideal solution. For the time being, the status quo will prevail.

I am writing this entry on the threshold of a mental fog. Mother's continuing deteriorating metal and physical health is a far greater burden on Judi than it is on me. Yet our relationship is nevertheless affected by the greater responsibilities Judi must assume. I honor Judi for her servanthood toward her Mother. But honestly, I resent her Mother for making it so. I realize that Frances cannot help her present condition. Still, her mother's ebbing life is draining Judi's. I'm guilty of not being overly thrilled about that consequence.

Frances sees her life becoming less and less viable, but in her understandable humanness, still denies it to be so. "If I could only drive my car again, I'd be less of a burden on everyone." God forbid!! That temptation was removed from her years ago. In the next breath, "I'm ready to die. I just want the Lord to take me home." Meaning no disrespect, I'm lobbying for God to grant her that wish. She has no life left here anymore. "It's time, Lord, to call her home."

"An Unsolicited Testimonial..."

Well...I must say daughter Megan and I were impressed! This year's edition of The Greatest Show On Earth" was indeed spectacular. The two plus hours that the spectacle required flew by and we were, for the most part, thoroughly entertained throughout.

In recent years Megan and I have observed that Mr. Barnum and Mr. Bailey have been making a concerted attempt to mimic admittedly the far more spectacular CIRQUE DU SOLEIL, doing so, thankfully, without sacrificing its roots of still appealing animal acts. A circus is hardly a traditional circus without performing lions, tigers and elephants, and this edition of the show had plenty of each. There was even a spotlighted porcupine...although its role was understandably limited to strolling around the edge of the elevated ring to bump into a soon to be deflated balloon being gingerly held in a clown's outstretched hand. Lets face it...just how many tricks could one teach a pincushion on stumpy legs?

As a continuing concession to our more modern view of the world, there was once again a steel cage globe in which seven...count 'em...seven motorbike riders roar around in a blur of color for, in my opinion, five minutes longer than was necessary. The many children, however, who were seated all around us seemed to take gleeful enjoyment in this act. Different strokes for different folks...

And my favorite...those daring, darling and flying artisans of the high trapeze. As anticipated the finale was the expected but the never certain attempt to perform a triple somersault. I don't care how many times this trick is performed, it is still breath-taking to see. You try climbing fifty feet in the air to hurl oneself into space head over feet three times and see how many times you firmly grasp the catcher you hope shows up to meet you with outstretched sweaty hands. I get lightheaded when I have to climb an eight foot ladder every spring to clean out my gutters. They nailed it on the first attempt! Good show guys.

Here's my recommendation. If the circus comes to your town this year, go take it in. And by all means, if you've got children...your little ones or your grandchildren...take them with you. It will be an experience that will thrill them memorably and in turn will delight your heart as well. If indeed apple pie is a slice of Americana, so too is the circus. Enjoy the show.

"The Roar Of The Greasepaint - The Smell Of The Crowd"

With sincerest apologies to Anthony Newly's Broadway show by the same title, that metaphorical image always comes to my mind when "The Greatest Show On Earth!" rolls into town. This evening daughter Megan and I make our annual pilgrimage to Tampa for opening night of the three-ring extravaganza that has been our father and daughter's special date night since she was two years of age twenty years ago.

Megan has in her recent college years had to bear the teasing she has received from her fellow sorority sisters who proclaim that such an outing with their own father's would be so very uncool. Megan has staunchly defended this cherished ritual by declaring unabashedly that she will always be her "Daddy's little girl" when it comes to circus night.

Mom, on the other hand, has never been a circus fan. She proclaims an aversion to the many confusing smells that proliferate around the arena, declaring, "they give my allergies a royal fit!" She also believes that all of the elephants should be made to wear diapers. Fearing that she might expound this belief at a most inopportune time in the midst of other circus attenders, Megan and I had years ago determined that Mom was best left with her opinions...at home.

"The Greatest Show On Earth!" hasn't changed very much over the two plus decades we have been in attendance. One might expect the usual performance staples; the clowns, the lions, the elephants, dancing horses, and a variety of trick-performing dog acts. There is usually a mixture of high-wire acts involving perilously perched acrobats on chairs stacked three, sometimes four high. If one is lucky, the entertainment fare will include a "death-defying" trapeze act where "'The Flying Lunatics' will attempt to perform the never before accomplished feat of a triple loop-de-loop with an inverted trapezoid!" A hush falls upon the crowd, the spotlights peers in upon the favorite son of the Lunatic Family as he swings higher and higher above the catch net below, and then he hurls himself head over suspended teacup...to land squarely in the middle of the tuba section of the circus band! The crowd goes wild!! Now that's entertainment!

No...there's not much chance of that occuring. But, daughter Megan and I shall be thoroughly entertained once again, nevertheless. We always are. We will critique the many acts and compare this year's circus with the many circuses past, and we will hold hands as we depart for the parking lot...looking forward already to our Daddy-Daughter circus night date next year. I wouldn't miss it for all diapered elephants in the world!

And So It Begins Again...

Rather than trying to be creative with this first of the New Year blogs, I decided to reprint the entry I composed at the beginning to last year. I believe it it carries just as much validity and purpose with the beginning of 2008 as it did on January 4th, 2007. I hope you agree...

"Now that the New Year is officially underway, let me be among those to wish you a prayerful promise of a great 2008.

The St. Peterburg TIMES ran an oldie but goodie PEANUTS in the comic section on New Year's eve. The opening panel finds Snoopy lying in thoughtful repose on the snow covered ground lamenting, "So here I am starting a New Year. But am I any different? Nope! I'm the same ol' dog! Day after day and year after year...never a change." The final panel captures Snoopy atop his snow covered doghouse, thinking smugly, "Sometimes I marvel at my consistency." Personally, I an relate. You?

Tis the season, so I have come to expect, when personal resolutions are declared. They run the gamut form A to Z, all faithfully formulated to make us a better person in some respect than we were the previous year. Some are introspective...we recognize in ourselves an area or areas in our lives that requires adjustment...either by doing some things more or conversely doing some things less. Other resolutions are more or less thrust upon us by people who declare steadfastly that they "only have our best interest at heart." My dear wife, Judi, has thrust one of those types of resolutions my way...to lose the spare tire that has attached itself around my middle. I am bound by my love for her and to equally avoid her ample wrath should I decline to so otherwise. Unlike the old adage, "Getting there is half the fun," I fear that sentiment doesn't hold much validity when it shall be painfully applied to my out of shape and aging body. I'd much rather be like Snoopy and marvel at my heretofore well developed sense of complacent consistency.

So...have you made any resolutions this year? Some wise person once observed, "Confession is good for the soul, but is really bad for the reputation." I'm not asking you to come forward with a list of said resolutions. Your determination to make and keep a personal resolution is strictly your decision. That choice, not unlike life itself, is a paradox. Consider the fact of how truly blessed we are to live in this wonderful country. Compared with any standard of living, we are the most affluent society in the world...where our material welfare is virtually guaranteed, where our enemies are diligently held at bay, and the greatest majority of infectious diseases that threaten life are contained. One would surmise that we would be at our leisure to successfully figure out ways of living and relating to one another that would produce the bountiful by-products of fulfillment, happiness, and contentment. Then why is it that mental health professionals of all stripes continue to maintain burgeoning case loads? Therein lies the paradox. What is it about the human condition that it seems determined to devise self-imposed formidable roadblocks between themselves and the lives they so desperately desire?

Every spring the sock-eyed salmon swim back up the rivers and streams of Alaska to their birth place of origin. The trip is arduous in and of itself, but combine the untold perils of the journey with there being a pack of ravenous bears waiting at the top of many rapids and waterfalls along the way, waiting in anticipation to the devour the unlucky few who have the deadly misfortune of being snatched in mid-leap into their gaping jaws, and one comes to the realization that not every worthy enterprise will have a beneficial outcome. Many salmon make it to their final destination. Many do not. Some of the bears eat their fill. Some go hungry. It is a paradox of unintended consequence. Seems to me that one of the best strategies for living ones life is to understand that we each are limited in that which we can control, and to fore go the illusion and accompanying anguish that we can and must control everything.

Here's my personal resolution... To be thankful to God each and every day that He has granted me yet one more day to embrace all that He has in store for me for that one day....the good and the bad...knowing that He and He alone is "perfectly" in control of everything of consequence...that it is my task and duty to honor Him and my Savior Jesus Christ by living each moment with the peaceful knowledge and assurance that He does not expect me to be "in control of all things." Perfection is God's business. My task is to stir the pot and strive for excellence in all that I am assigned to accomplish.

Have a great first week of 2008. Enjoy each new day granted to you...be thankful for the blessings that have no price tag...and strive for excellence in all that you attempt to do. That may be the best formula for a great New Year.