Saturday, July 23, 2011

Day #284 Mama Was Right

Don’t you love it (or hate it as the case may be) when one of those pithy sayings your mother was always coming out with turns out to be true?

The latest one for me is

The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.

She was right, doggone it. This all has to do with why bees are easier than other critters. Yesterday morning I’d just finished cleaning out the litter boxes and I was scurrying to put out the squirrel-proof (HA!) birdfeeders. I’ve been taking them in each night after dark to foil the possum who is very clever about getting around the squirrel-proof (so far) baffle on the pole. Then I put them out each dawn. Nowhere, by the way, did the squirrel-proof feeder advertisement claim to be possum-proof. There’s enough spilled seed on the ground for my resident possum to eat her fill from the mess the birds leave.

Now, I don’t really mind possums. In fact, I think they’d amazing creatures. Did you know that possums never get rabies? I learned that from a woman whose big and downright scary dogs mauled a possum in her fenced-in back yard one Friday just before she left to attend a weekend class. She quickly called a vet to see if she had to bring the dogs in to get rabies shots. The vet is the one who told her that possums can’t get rabies, so her dogs weren’t in any danger. Of course, the vet strongly recommended that she bring them in for the shots in case they ever ran into a rabid raccoon.

When she finally got out to the car (I’d waited there, having heard stories of her dogs before this), we took off for Tennessee. It wasn’t until we were on our back, two days later, that I asked, “What did you do with the possum?”

“I threw it in the garbage bin,” she said. “It was dead. I hope it’s not too stinky when I get back.”

I cleared my throat. “Denise, haven’t you ever heard the term playing possum?”

Turns out that possum had been thoroughly enjoying a regular feast in the garbage can. As soon as Denise opened the garage door (the bin was tipped over and garbage was EVERYWHERE!), the possum scooted out. I could have sworn I heard that critter say thank you, ma’am! over his/her shoulder as he/she ran around the corner of the house.

Anyway, to get back to my point, I was scurrying to fill the feeders (the hurrier I go) and I misjudged the angle of where I was pouring the seed. Hit the edge of the feeder with the scoop and ended up with (the behinder I get) this mess.

Bees are easier. All I do is plant shrubs and flowers.

BEEattitude for Day # 284:
       Blessed are those who learn from those who go before them, for they shall avoid many mistakes. Or maybe not. You folks are human, after all.

The teeny details:
my books: Please buy your print books from an independent bookstore or directly from my website.
my eBooks for Kindle:
my eBooks on Smashwords (for all other formats):


The Cat Bastet said...

What a wonderful post, Fran! I love the possum story. Thanks for reminding me of that good old "The hurrier I go, the behinder I get." :)

Cathy AJ

Fran Stewart said...

Glad you enjoyed it, Cathy. The possum story happened a least a decade ago, but I still get a chuckle when I think of it.