I continue to be amazed at the impact my working two days out the week is having on my life. What did I do when I worked full time? Did I just work and sleep? I like the French way of doing things. They wish to work as little as possible. They have 35 hour work weeks, logging in very little overtime. They celebrate every holiday with a day off from Groundhog Day to Pancake Appreciation Day. To add to that happy mix, they also get 5 weeks of paid vacation annually. Sign me up. Well actually don’t. I don’t want to work 35 hours a week anymore. However, for those of you pulling 40 or 50 hour weeks, seeing your children only at graduation ceremonies or when they get married, and watching your vacation accrue on the books like barnacles on a ship’s hull, sign you up for sure.
Yesterday I left the house early for breakfast with a friend. He and I have been texting for months discussing this subject and that. In between texts, we get together for a meal here and there, and very much enjoy each other’s company. Several days ago I texted him in distress about something that happened while spraying my plants for mites and aphids. The spray I was using was a concentrated mix of essential oils, bad for the bugs, but causing no injury to our already wounded environment. Cautionary labeling said not to get in eyes or on skin. Though eco friendly the solution was still a strength that could be uncomfortable to humans and animals or harmful in large quantities. Soooooo, while spraying away I didn’t notice a praying mantis perched on a leaf on one of the plants. Before seeing him, I doused that area liberally with the contents of the spray bottle in my hand. My heart just dropped when I saw the beautiful insect sitting there. Gently removing him from the leaf where he sat, I set him down on the deck and sprayed him lightly with a bottle of distilled water I had outside with me. I turned around for a minute to set the bottle down, and he was gone. I couldn’t help but feel I might have done him in. Sigh. Just hate that. Though I’m sure my friend thought I might be being a overly dramatic, he is a nature lover such as myself so handled it with grace. He said was sorry for my loss, asked if there was to be a celebration of life in the near future. Yes, yes, most amusing
When my friend arrived at the restaurant where we were to have breakfast, he said not to let him forget he had something for me in his car. Reminding him of this request as we were walking out to the parking lot, I waited while he retrieved whatever he was going to give to me out of his back seat. From my vantage point I could see him take something out of a cooler placed on the seat. In his hand was what looked to be a pint of ice cream except for the wire air hole in the top. Inside the tub, he explained, was an egg sac from a praying mantis. If I followed the instructions, hundreds of babies would emerge from that to be released into the garden. Insert “Awwwwww” here. I know. He took the time to research this and found a retailer in the area who had such an unusual item in stock. This made my whole day, I have to tell you. It reminded me of how one thoughtful gesture such as this one had the potential to change a person’s life or perspective, if only for the moment. Perhaps that is enough. For truthfully, we are only the moment we are occupying. So, the universe heard my sad tale of the praying mantis and brought me a container of them to replenish what had been lost. How full circle is that?
As it turned out, there had been two sacs in the container and he had kept one, so we were to co-parent. These little ones do not simply hatch and fly off into the sunset. The babies need a suitable habitat in which to thrive, and live insects to feed on. Oh boy. Now I was not only responsible for the life of one I but hundreds were depending on me. If my history with the plants in my garden is any indicator, trouble looms on the horizon. If any of you have the number of a mantis wrangler handy please message me immediately.
On a total unmantis related subject, yesterday I took a day trip down Highway 49, The Golden Highway. What an interesting road trip. I know I drove along that route years ago, but came to it with fresh eyes, really because most days I struggle to remember what I ate for breakfast. The weather was warm, but it was comfortably cool for us as we tootled along in the roomy cab of my friend’s truck. The gentleman who suggested the trip, is my friend Richard, a bit of an adventurer and a history buff of the Sacramento area. Along our journey we visited Drytown, the oldest city in Amador County, California. Drytown was established in 1848 and was supposedly the first town where gold was discovered. Ironically, Drytown boasted 26 saloons in it’s heyday, though the town was actually named for the fact it’s creeks dry up during the summer months, rather than any lack of alcoholic beverages for sale. Today it is considered “nearly a ghost town”, with only 167 or so residents still having homes there. Sometimes I wonder what keeps people in small rural towns like that. Were they born there and just stayed, or migrated there from somewhere else? If the latter was the case makes you wonder why they chose that remote area to set up camp in.
The history of this area, and history in general, has always fascinated me. Sometimes I wonder if the generations coming up will enjoy it the way I do. I was recently at a large get together which included a number of high school and college kids. I gravitate towards young people because I find their enthusiasm and fresh eyes on things fun, and like to hear how life rolls for them at their age. This is true particularly at this time in history with so much going on the world. Somehow, we got on the subject of school. I’m pretty sure I might have initiated that train of thought. I told them I had watched a video recently where college kids in California were asked several rather obvious questions about our beautiful state, that most could not answer. One question was what is the capital of California? Most thought it was either Los Angeles or San Francisco, with some choosing San Diego as a possible candidate. Really? Very few had any answers at all when asked who the governor was, one thinking it was “The Terminator”. Right answer, wrong year. Hmmmm. One of these kids I was talking to popped up with, “I know”. “What is it”, I asked hopefully, to which he answered “Reno”. OMG. Talking to them they said the emphasis in schools they were attending was definitely not on geography or history. Makes me wonder what it is on. Also, one girl told me she uses her cell phone in class to get answers. Wow. For some reason I am absolutely floored by that. Perhaps we should just hand them a cell phone when they are born and send them on their way. I’m sure there’s a U-Tube video out there on how to perform brain surgery for dummies.
I guess each generation thinks those rising up behind them are on the wrong track but I found this really, really disturbing. Also, on the news this morning when discussing the teaching shortage in our schools. Some of the reasons cited for people not opting for teaching as a major were startling. Along with the obvious ones like poor pay, having to purchase supplies out of their own pockets, and the fact that going to school every day has now become dangerous, they also included parent intimidation and poor curriculum.
These young people are going to be running this planet in the not to distant future. I believe we should be providing them with the tools to do a good job of it. The history of our world and what shaped it, I feel at least, is essential knowledge to know how to go forward and a way to honor the sacrifices made to get here.
So, Susie’s pearls for a Friday. I am off to work again. Seems the five days I am free and off go by in the blink of an eye with the two I am actually at work seeming to actually move in a backward motion. Attitude girl, work on your attitude.
As a last thought, I was looking at my life today as compared to the train wreck it was four years ago. Rick will have been gone four years the end of next month, Dale a year in October, and I said goodbye to my dear little mama the beginning of this year. Standing on the precipice of all that, I don’t think I would have given you a nickel I would make it through. Yet, here I am, still standing. I have gotten a job (I KNOW), I’m actually performing it without the company having to close it’s doors and file bankruptcy. I’m in the budding stages of a new relationship, and I feel happy once again. Truly when one door closes, another opens. Sometimes you simply have to have faith because you can’t see what is ahead, only believe in what could be.
Oh, Note to Self: Do not store candles in the trunk of your car during extreme heat days. I opened my trunk yesterday to find the survival candles I had stored there for emergencies ere a puddle of ewwwwy gooey mess. Took me the good part of two hours to get it off the carpeting, and some, I fear, will be a permanent part of the landscape. To add to the good news, my whole car now smells like peach melba and may need a warning label for passengers reading, “riding in this car may be fattening” as peach melba all I think about when tooling along. Later.
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