rabid raccoons

After a tragically short life of just under 15 months, Bruce is no longer with us. He was fatally bitten by a ravenous creature on a camping trip to Clover Springs West of Rush Valley. Remember the scene from Jurassic Park where the goat rises out of the ground chained to a concrete pad while chewing on some grass in the rain and suddenly there’s a flash of lightning and all you see left is the chain swinging back and forth? It was kind of like that. Actually, it was exactly like that. Bruce was eaten by a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

Or he could have been. I guess it depends on who you ask.

That was the biggest concern facing us (and by 'us' I mean 'somebody-else-but-not-me') during our adventure into the mountains of Utah last weekend. The fearless raccoon that kept frequenting our camp didn’t help alleviate fears of Bruce being viciously devoured by heartless beasts of the wild. To help illustrate the severity of the trepidation that was felt, I think we need to have a comparative chart.

Unfortunately, we can't. Imagine a comparative chart here.

And there you have it. 110 pound, sharp toothed Bruce would clearly have no chance against the malevolence of the 8 pound, injured raccoon who we'll call The Spawn of Evil or Xanthar for short.

I have to give Xanthar credit for allowing us (and by 'us' I, unfortunately, mean 'us') the opportunity to share what we used to think was a fairly good sized tent with what we know is a fairly large sized Bruce. A four man tent is actually only a 1.5 man + 1 Bruce tent.

At home he’s perfectly content to sit in his kennel while we do whatever we want. In the tent, there was no kennel. Just camp chairs and a table sort of laid out like a very low fence in the corner. The most surprising part is that it worked! Except when Bruce didn’t want it to work anymore. Then it didn’t. Well, it kind of still worked. He would go back behind his 4 inch barrier and wag his tail which would brush against all 5,285 sides of the tent making a loud ‘whish, whish’ sound that was very effective in keeping us awake.

But at least he didn’t get eaten by the Tyrannosaurus Rex.

yay patience

(ding, ding, ding)

Excuse me, excuse me…everyone…we would like to get started now. First off, I’d like to thank all of you for coming today and for your participation in The Great Shed Move of 2008. Special thanks to Brittany, Chloe, Jamila, Kanani, and Mateo for making yummy cookies and to Ian for showering, we’re all VERY appreciative.

We’re gathered here today on this wonderful technological medium that Vannie doesn’t know about called a ‘blog’ to pay homage to one among us who has risen above the rest…Nick, please get off your chair…ok…thank you…anyway…ok. We’re gathered here today to recognize Mrs. Patience for her contributions to the grandiose undertaking today. We present her with this Engineering Award, specially customized for her by choosing the color scheme that matched most closely alphabetically with her name, Parrot.

Although none of us remembers specifically what her ideas may have been, or even if they were even really that great, we’re sure she must have had at least one. And if there were more than one, we can pretty much assume there were probably less than 2,076,284, which is a good thing because, really, who has that kind of time?

So please join me in raising your mouse high and giving a rousing version of The Watermelon Cheer to Patience.

Thank you.

(thunderous applause)

living in denial

Have you ever known someone who refuses to accept their currently bad situation even if it’s painfully obvious that the situation is really terrible? For some reason I woke up this morning thinking about that and the thought occurred to me: probably the ultimate example of this phenomenon would be an airline steward who gets up to answer the ‘ding’ of a bell in 17B, is sucked out the back of the airplane and yet continues on as though nothing happened. I can picture him (for some reason it’s a him) thinking (and talking) as he accelerates towards his 125 mph terminal velocity:

“Here we go again. Another drink for Mr. I’m-going-to-have-to-get-up-before-the-pilot-turns-off-the-fasten-seatbelt-sign-or-I’ll-wet-myself. I wonder what he wants this time…there’s only so much Ginger Ale on this flight, you know. Oh great, hang on…

Excuse me sir, yes you, 32F. You’re going to need to turn off your electronic devices…Yes, all of them…Even that one, sir…Sir, why do you even have a toaster?

...Maybe he didn’t know. No, he knew. They always know.

I’m not really sure why those thoughts were occupying my mind so heavily during my morning shower. Especially because at some point the hero of our story has no choice but decide to splat. Maybe I’m also living in denial since that didn’t really occur to me until just now…

toenail clippings

Well, well, well…here goes nothing. Time to clip my toenails on the kitchen table.

I figure that’s a better way to start than the standard, “Everybody is blogging so now I am too because, for whatever reason, I think that everything I say is important enough that the whole world should know what I think.” I’m pretty sure that really is the premise behind a blog and now Melissa and I have fallen into the same trap. Don’t worry, it’ll probably be something we do for 8.435 days and then give up. That will also save all of you a lot of time because you won’t have get to read this anymore.

I don’t think it’s fair to start blogging retroactively – if we wanted to write about stuff that already happened we should have done so already. Obviously, we didn’t care enough to do that which means we have to start with the here and now. That means we have to start with activities tonight. I’m the Scoutmaster over about 9, 12-13 yr old boys. I say about because sometimes there are more than others and most of the time at least one doesn’t really count as a whole kid. Melissa volunteers with the 12-13 yr old young women. The Scouts do way cooler stuff.

Tonight we’re going to the pool to pass off some requirements for the swimming merit badge and to show everyone how many Twinkies I’ve eaten in the past 7 years. I’m really looking forward to it. Melissa is doing a poster for their bulletin board. That sounds like even more fun.

Anyway. I think that’s a pretty good start.

Also, clipping your toenails on the kitchen table is disgusting. According to Melissa.