Ricky's Adventure

Video 19
Ricky is the oldest son of Roscoe and Ranita Raccoon. He's one of six siblings and he has always been the most mischievous of all the raccoon children. The furry family of ringtails live in a log on a peaceful hollow in Tennessee. They have a clear-water creek running through the woods they call home and lush green meadows throughout the hollow where they run and play with their friends the deer, rabbits, squirrels, possums, fox, chipmunks and even the stinky skunks, who all live nearby.

Ricky's favorite thing to do is to explore, and he does his best exploring late at night. He makes his way through the woods under the watchful eye of Hootie-etta Owl and all the other creatures of the night. Ricky makes his way through the trees and most often his wanderings find him farther and farther away from the safe boundaries of the woods. His Mama is always warning him about the dangers of wandering too far from home. She's tried to tell him of all the troubles lurking at nearby farms and yards, where farmers set traps and dogs with big teeth hide underneath porches and behind barns, waiting for critters like Ricky to amble by. But Ricky just can't seem to resist the thrill of the hunt. He knows there are treasures to be found near the farm houses and barns where "people" live. He finds all kinds of shiny objects he takes home to his brothers and sisters and almost always finds something delectable to eat in the big tall cans on the sides of houses.

One particular night, Ricky hit the midnight-snack jackpot! One of the farmer's dogs had knocked over a garbage can and litter was scattered all across the yard. There was a half-eaten baloney sandwich, a bag of crushed cookies, some fruit and some fish bones. He found a bright shiny silver can with sweet gooey-goo dripping down the sides. He picked it up in his clever little hands and tipped it forward so the goo would trickle down into his eager little mouth. He stuck his snout into the can to lick the sides and couldn't seem to get enough of that heavenly goo that tasted like sweet ambrosia and made his whiskers tingle. He stuck his head in further so his tongue could reach the bottom of the can and he slurped up the last of the tasty treat. Yum that was good!

Oh, but now Ricky had a real problem. His head was stuck inside the can and no matter how hard he pulled, he couldn't seem to get himself free. He shook his head back and forth, wiggled his ears up and down, but nothing seemed to work. He tried to walk but he couldn't see and he kept bumping into everything. Every time he bonked his head into a rock or a tree trunk, the can would ring so loud it made his teeth rattle. He'd run in spurts, back and forth across the grass, then plop himself down on the ground and roll all around trying to get himself free of the can. It seemed like hours he was wandering around blindly, not knowing where he was or what was around him. He wished he could call for help, but no one could hear him with his head inside the can. Oh how he wished he had listened to his Mama now! What was he going to do?

All of a sudden, he felt something near him in the grass. What could it be? Oh please, don't let it be one of those big dogs with the long pointy teeth! But no, it wasn't a dog, it was a "person!" And the person was actually trying to help him get loose of the can! Hooray! I'm going to be saved! The person tugged and tugged on the can until finally Ricky could see and smell and breathe in the cool air. And look! The night had passed and it was now daylight! Boy was he ever going to be in trouble for being out so long!

He hurried off into the woods as fast as his little legs could carry him, chattering all the way and telling himself he would NEVER venture that far away from home ever again!

Boogie Nights

For those of you who know and love my sweet, adorable and cherub-faced Mother, you'd never in a million years believe she used to be quite the Disco Queen back in the 70's. Mom and her best friend Charlene, used to go disco dancing on Saturday nights at a club downtown called "The Loft" and some nights they'd come back to our house with two of their favorite dancing buddies for a late night meal. The babysitter would be sent on her way and then Tiff and I would curl up sleepy-eyed on the couch in the family room and watch the disco continue in our very own kitchen.

While Mom and Charlene were preparing something to eat, the guys would turn on the stereo, move the table against the wall and dance right there on our kitchen floor. Mom's favorite dance partner was the spitting image of Deney Terrio from Dance Fever! He had the white John Travolta outfit on - white bell bottom pants with a white vest and a silk shirt - and he had the thick, dark, wavy hair. He was about a foot shorter than our Mom with her high-heeled platform shoes, but they sure did dance great together. He would grab Mom away from the stove and twirl her around the floor and Mom would show us these crazy disco moves that left us stunned! We never knew our Mom had it in her! I still tease her to this day about her old disco days.

Well, I said all that to prepare you for this funny story about a trick Sid played on her this weekend. Last week, we bought Mom her very first official cell phone. She had one, but it was one of those old timey granny phones that didn't do anything but call out. No fancy bells and whistles, no texting or picture taking. We got the phone home, programmed her numbers into it, took a few pictures for her library and set it up, including a special ringtone. And I mean special! Sid downloaded Boogie Nights by the group Heatwave as a ringtone! After he got it all programmed in, he turned the volume up as loud as it would go and we mailed her the phone.

Mom got the phone on Saturday and that night she called me for a mini-lesson in how to use it. I told her the basics - how to turn it off and on, how to text, how to make a call. The next day, I just knew that Mom being Mom would have her new phone with her so she could show it off to her sister at church. So, Sunday morning, when we knew Mom would be deep into the morning church service, we dialed her new number! I was laughing hysterically even before we dialed the number.

The phone rang and rang and rang and I laughed and laughed and laughed. About fifteen minutes later, Mom calls and Sid answers the phone. "Did you kids just call me? What in the world?!?" Mom cried in her high-pitched frantic voice. Turns out, sure enough, Mom's new phone was on and at the bottom of her purse and right in the middle of church it started singing Boogie Nights! I could just picture Mom looking around trying to figure out where in the world that music was coming from. I could see her sister's face and Mom's embarrassment when she realized it was coming from her very own purse! And Mom couldn't remember how to turn the darned thing off, so she just picked up her purse and made her way across the pew and down the aisle of the church as fast as her little legs would carry her, with Boogie Nights playing loudly the whole way! I'm laughing so hard as I type this that tears are streaming down my face! She was so mortified that she stayed in the lobby of the church for a full fifteen minutes before she returned to her seat. When she sat back down, Aunt B asked her who in the world that was calling and Mom smirked, "My silly son-in-law!"

It was priceless! I wish I could have been there to see it all happen in person, but I'm sure if I had been, I would have wet my pants! I still can't stop laughing just thinking about it. I expect she'll be calling me tonight for further lessons on how to use her new phone, and at the top of the list will be "How do I change this silly ringtone?"

Starry, Starry Night

Last night, hubby built a fire out back and we had our dinner under the stars. I baked some chicken and made au gratin potatoes, sweet peas (his favorite, but not mine!) and jalapeno cornbread and it was the prettiest night for stargazing. After we finished eating, we just leaned back in our chairs and watched the skies. We saw several airplanes criss-crossing with their blinking lights and Sid saw the first falling star of the night, streak across the sky. It was behind me and I was so disappointed that I didn't get to see it too. We kept watching though, and visiting, telling each other stories about our day and listening to the crickets chirp and all the other night sounds you hear when you live so far out in the boonies. Then, all of a sudden, we both watched as another falling star streaked across the sky right above us! I squealed with delight and was so excited to see it that I forgot to make a wish!

Later, as we loaded up our dishes to go back inside, we heard the distant howl of a coyote. We hear him often at night and he usually howls three or four times, then a few minutes later you'll hear the whole pack come crying down the hillside. It's such an eerie sound with their yelps and sharp cries echoing down the hill. Sends chills up your spine to hear them and know they are so close.

It sure was a nice night, and I'm so glad it's becoming Fall again so we can enjoy the outdoors like that.

Pilfering Pears

We have two pear trees in our front yard and every year they produce the fattest, juiciest pears ever. To look at the trees, you'd never believe fruit could actually thrive and grow on their scraggly branches. One of the trees actually has a huge hole right in the middle of the trunk, but it still gives out fruit every Fall. We've been told that way back before our house was even built, our land had a pear orchard out back, where the donkey pasture is now. These two trees are the only two survivors of that orchard. All through late August, September and October we're picking up pears by the wheelbarrow full and carting them back to the donkeys. Neighbors have been known to come by on their horses on weekends and stop to pick up a couple to snack on during the ride, and we have one lady that comes every year with her husband to pick as many as they can for her famous pear preserves. We bought a special tool that has a basket on a long stick for people to use to pick the high branches, and we store it in the tree with the hole in the trunk, so anyone passing by can use it.

This year, it seems our pear crop might be in danger of surviving the October harvest! I've been noticing we have an abundance of critters pilfering our crop before its even fully ripened. In one weekend alone, I witnessed two squirrels perched high on a branch, both munching away at pears. They pluck them from the tree and sit there gobbling away. I also watched a red-headed woodpecker, pecking away at several pears, squawking loudly while he ate. I've seen deer come into the yard late in the evening, nibbling the pears that had fallen into the yard, and I sat and watched the fattest little groundhog you ever saw, stand on his haunches in the middle of the yard and eat two pears, core and all, and then waddle back into the culvert of our ditch, where he currently lives. Last night three big, black crows came caw-cawing into the trees and I watched one of them knock a pear from the tree and then fly down and spear it with his beak and carry it across the yard. He stopped every few feet and proceeded to peck away at the pear, then speared it again and carried it further across the road. At this rate, we might not have any pears left for that annual batch of pear preserves that sweet little couple makes down the road!

It's fun to see all the joy our two forlorn pear trees are giving all the neighbors though, including the furry and fine-feathered ones! Maybe that's why these two pear trees have hung on so long all these years. The attention keeps them going. I hope and pray they continue to weather the Spring storms, so they can keep us entertained for years to come!

Terrible Tubby! Horrible Hubby!

I have this routine most weekday mornings. A half hour before my alarm goes off, I somehow wake myself up and trudge into the bathroom to turn on my hot rollers for my hair. Then I trudge back to bed and crawl back under the covers until the alarm goes off. I turn it off and usually lay there another 15 minutes. By this time, Tubby has parked himself on my side of the bed and is staring me down because he's ready to go outside and do his business.

I get up, let him out the front door, then proceed to putter around in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, taking my vitamins, putting my hair up in rollers and getting my clothes ready for the day. This takes about 15 minutes, which is usually plenty of time for Tubs to get done sniffing all the tree trunks and peeing on all my plants and flowers. Normally, by the time I get my curlers in my hair, he's sitting on the front porch waiting to come back in, however this morning that wasn't the case!

I stepped out onto the porch and called his name but he was nowhere in sight. I went to the back door and called him, but no Tubby. All three donkeys started yelling to be fed, but I didn't have time for them right now! I had to find my silly dog! Exasperated, I put on my slippers and went back out the front door to try and find him. I walked around the entire house and yard, calling his name (in my pajamas and hair rollers, mind you!) but couldn't find him. Where in the world had he gone? I walked down the fence line toward the back pasture, no Tubby. I looked over toward the neighbor's garden, no Tubby. By the barn across the street, no Tubby. I stood in the middle of the yard, panicked now that someone had driven by and lured him into their car. I was just getting ready to go inside to wake up Hubby and tell him Tubby was gone, when there the little brat was, way over in the neighbor's front yard, staring me down like nothing was amiss. Boy that dog makes me mad sometimes! I called him to me and he took his own sweet lumbering time doe-dee-doeing back over into our yard and up the porch steps. I was so mad my hands were shaking and I was seeing red! I scolded him and told him to get in his crate, but of course he had other plans and proceeded to run through the bathroom and into the bedroom where his Daddy was still sleeping.

I had to go in after him and literally drag his 80 pounds of furry stubbornness out of the room and into his crate. Bratty brat! What a way to start the day! My blood was boiling! Luckily, all the commotion hasn't awakened his sleeping Daddy and I was able to continue to get ready for work. I finished getting my clothes ready and put my make-up on, then stepped out of the bathroom and there was Tubby, laying outside the bathroom door waiting for me! "How in the world did you get out of your crate?" I grabbed him by the collar and proceeded to drag him back in. "No! No! Bad boy!" I must not have latched the door right the first time.

I got dressed and went back into the bathroom to take my curlers out and brush through my hair, spritzed on some perfume and walked back out and there he was again, sitting in the doorway of the living room! Good flippin' grief! How did he get out again? I grabbed him again and this time he extended both of his front legs ram-rod straight right out in front of him and dug his nails into the carpet. He did NOT want to go back to his crate. But back in his crate he eventually went, and this time I made double sure the latch was closed right on the door, all the while wondering in the back of my mind if maybe we had some sort of magic Houdini Dog or a playful ghost!

I was just getting ready to go back into the bedroom to kiss Hubby goodbye when the bedroom door opened and there was Sid standing there with mischief twinkling in his eyes and holding back a terrible case of the giggles. HE WAS THE CULPRIT! That ding-dong husband of mine had been pretending to be asleep when all the while he was sneaking back and forth from one side of the house to the other, letting Tubby out of his crate! And here I was, scolding poor Tubby! That dog was probably so confused. "What the heck? Mom puts me in my crate and Dad lets me out. What's up with that?" I chased Sid through the bedroom and into the bathroom where I could hear him laughing hysterically about what he had done. These boys of mine are giving me gray hair! Arrrrrrgggggghhhhhhh!

Barnyard Mayhem

My favorite friend and neighbor called me this morning all upset because one of her chickens had been attacked in the night and it was suffering. She said when she went to let the chickens out of their coop for the day, the poor chicken was laying there with one eye gone and when she touched it, it started flopping all around. Her hubby had already left for work, so she wanted to know if my hubby would come up and kill the chicken for her to put it out of its misery.

I hung up the phone and gave Sid the scoop and he pulled on some jeans and his boots and headed out the back door. A few minutes later, here he came around the corner of the house with a shotgun in one hand and a baseball bat in the other and when he saw the look of horror on my face, he raised both arms up in the air and let out an evil roar! OH MY GOSH! I called my sweet friend and told her he was on his way, armed with heavy arsenal, and she worriedly said, "Oh no, my poor chicken!" and you could tell she was already having second thoughts. I told her maybe we should just put the chicken in a sack and wring its neck, but she said no, she wanted him to put a sock over its head and chop it off! Lord have mercy! I'm sure glad I had to go to work. . .

As I pulled out of the driveway, my husband flagged me down. "Are my sunglasses in your truck?" he asked. I handed them to him and as he put them on he said, "I don't want those chickens recognizing me, in case I have to go up there again some time." What a dork!

A half hour or so later, my husband called me at work and he was laughing so hard I could hardly understand a word he was saying. He said when he got up there to our neighbor's house, she decided to go ahead and let him shoot the chicken so he followed her out to the barnyard and asked which one he was supposed to shoot. He said she pointed to a chicken and said, "That one there!" and KABOOOOOOM!!! he shot the chicken! Then she screamed, "Oh no, not that one, THAT one!" and pointed to another one and KABOOOOOOM!! again. Another chicken dead! I said, "Oh no, you killed TWO of her chickens!?" and he said "Yes, and she sure seemed upset about it!" I told him she'd never call him for help again! He told me I better call her to make sure she was okay, so I hung up and dialed her number.

When she answered, I said "What happened? I'm so sorry!" Turned out Sid was pulling my leg and he didn't really kill ANY of her chickens, including the injured one! Once he got up there, it was running all around with the other chickens and seemed to be okay, even though it only had one eye, so they decided to just let it be. Sid told her to get an eye patch for it and name it Captain Morgan. Good grief!

So, that's how our morning started off today on the hollow. Never a dull moment around our place, especially with my silly husband! Sheesh!

Crazy Silly Dream

As my family can well attest to, I am the world's craziest dreamer! I could write best-selling fiction novels and script award-winning movies and television shows with some of the dreams I have! They are always so vivid and unbelievable.

I was telling my Mom and Sister about one wacky dream I had last night, and Mom said "Girl, you could write a book just on your dreams alone!" so I thought I'd blog about it instead. And before I get started, no, I did not eat chocolate before bed last night! (Chocolate can make me have some super extravagant dreams, for sure!)

Anyway, last night I dreamed I had a big booth in an antique mall, and in my booth I had this old Victorian wicker baby carriage for sale. It was white and very ornate and I'd had it for sale for a long time with no takers. I was only asking $125 for it, and that was a steal! Well, I was working in my booth, straightening things up and dusting, and this old man came up to me. He was from Transylvania or Romania or something because he had that kind of "Count Dracula from Sesame Street" kind of accent. He was a dealer in the mall too, but he really creeped me out.

He came up to me and said "I av somsing very impor-tant to show you. Come vith me." and he led me over to my antique baby carriage. He said "Look here." and pointed one of his gnarly old fingers at this little glass dome in the middle of the handle to the baby carriage. I assumed the dome housed the mechanism to steer the baby carriage left or right, but he told me that sometimes, that little glass dome housed something "very special."

He asked me if he could take it apart and see if what he suspected was true. I told him sure, no problem, and then I went about my business while he carefully took the dome off the baby carriage. Awhile later, he came to me and tapped me on the shoulder and very dramatically said, "Behold! It is true and I av found it!" He handed me this beautiful solid gold pin with a big stone of some sort in the center, encircled with gorgeous pearls. I was totally shocked! The gold was brilliantly polished and the stone was shining so brightly, as if it had never seen the light of day. It was totally untarnished. He told me it was worth hundreds of thousands of dollars! I was so excited and despite his creepiness, I just hugged him and thanked him over and over.

Wierd, huh? I sure have some doozy dreams! Then, the rest of my dream carried on with ghosts and children that could see ghosts, and me and the children chasing the ghosts up and down a staircase in an old Victorian house.

Me and hubby are going to a big antique auction tomorrow, so you can bet if they have any ornate baby carriages for sale, I'm going to be bidding on them for sure!