That having been said, in my defense, I've not only trekked ACROSS the country (twice) and visited two states (not counting layovers) and FOUR destination cities (count them... FOUR), but I've done it all with two bouncy, happy, whiny, miserable, psychedelic-trippy kids in tow. So it should come as no surprise that blogging has sort of been jettisoned to the bottom of the list. (Most of the time I've been wondering if the internet really does still exist or if it's morphed into some other, alien thing that I'll have to spend years relearning once I come back into the world as I know it...)
Six weeks. I'm SOOOOO READY to be home.
Anyway. I started this post before I left my Mom's three weeks ago. Obviously, I didn't get around to finishing it. Ahem. So I will finish it now. Before posting the 800 other things I've wanted to write about but haven't in the last month-and-a-half.
So commence with the reading already.
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Let me start out by asking, does anyone remember that book that came out a few years ago, a la the title of this post, "The Bunny Suicides"? If you're like me, you'll have a totally bizarre sense of humour and find the grotesquely morbid illustrations absolutely hilarious... You can find the book on Amazon, here, but I also found a couple of the images...
Anyway.Here at my Mom's I usually drag my exhausted butt to bed every night without having done half of the things I wanted to... As much as I hate to say it... Mom, you were right. A month is just not long enough.
Anyway.
I'm leaving in two days, and haven't chronicled ANY of the things that we've done here. I will, hopefully, in the next couple of weeks. I'm such a slacker. But it definitely has been an adventure. An exhilerating, exhausting one.
Anyway.
I decided to write about this because the most bizarre and random thing happened to me today. Well, not really random, because I'd noticed some weird stuff going on before I got here.
Let me elaborate.
Before I came out here, I noticed it was dead squirrel season in Nashvegas. Laugh, but seriously, it was weird. Over the course of around ten days, I noticed at least fifteen flattened squirrels in and around our neighborhood. FIFTEEN. It's kind of creepy when you see not only one fuzzy tail attached to concrete and blowing in the breeze, but two or three, all on the same road.
I was seeing so many of them, it got so that I felt as though I was seeing them everywhere.
And then, just a couple of days before I came out here to my Mom's, I nearly ran over a bunny. Just before darting in front of my car, he made that life-saving, survival-of-the-fittest good decision that hopefully allowed him to go on and find some sweet, soft little bunny-babe to marry and breed lots of babies with... I mean, they don't call it "breeding like rabbits" for no reason, right?
All that to say, he started to run out, and stopped. Dead in his tracks, so to speak.
So now, not only are there flattened squirrel pelts adorning the roads, but a bunny was feeling so bad about his bachelorhood that he almost ended it all under the tired of my car. Freaky, I tell you.
But not soooo freaky until I get out here, in Nowheresville, with its windy mountain roads and abundance of wildlife.
Remember, my Mom's not been well, so... Yep. I'm doing most of the driving. Unless it's the Doog, who drives like a blind bat out of hell and keeps my toes curled and my eyes closed in fervent prayer when he's behind the wheel. Not that he's a bad driver. He's just... Creative.
We get there, I do some driving, all's well. Then about two weeks into it, I start noticing that when I'm driving, birds, any number of birds, decide to fly RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE CAR while I'm driving. Which is unnerving, to say the least. And especially problematic for someone like me, who will (safely, of course) pull over on a four-lane highway to save a turtle who's stuck in the middle of the road. Or nearly crash trying to avoid said turtle. I still have guilt for running over a lizard that was sunning itself while I was on a bike ride when I was ten.
Weird, all right, but I try not
to pay it any mind. Until that fateful day in the not-so-distant past. As in, yesterday. If this cartoon was a car with me driving instead of an airplane, that would about sum up my experience yesterday.My Mom and I had decided to take the girls to the beach. Nevermind that it was 50 degrees outside and the water in the Pacific never reaches above freezing level. We were going to the beach.
Sounds fun, right?
Well, it was, actually.
We left the house, driving curvy turns of Highway 34 westward, Mom and I chatting, the girls happily quiet, when a small, sweet little sparrow-like BIRD flies directly in front of the car. All I could do was watch in horror as it bounced off the hood and went sailing into the great beyond. Or onto the road behind us, I couldn't tell.
I started to make traumatized squeaking sounds until Mom shushed me for fear the girls would hear me and also be traumatized. So I shushed.
Until a half an hour later after my coffee stop when I'm again driving down the highway, this time 101, which parallels the *amazing* Oregon coastline. When an adorable little chipmunk takes matters into his own hands and runs out into the road just before my tires flattened him.
Oh, the humanity! The girls saw it this time, too. Sweet Jesus, save those poor animals... And spare the girls that particular memory.
Ugh. I was now feeling like I shouldn't be driving, but alas, I HAVE TO DRIVE because Mom isn't well enough yet.
We got to the beach without further mishap, and enjoy it, 20 degree winds and water and all. It was actually quite lovely, and I collected some beautiful stones which I hauled back in my suitcase, much to the perplexed amusement of the Doog.
We get back in the car, stop for a quick bite, and on the way back, oh look, it's a sweet little bunny rabbit on the side of the road, waiting for the perfect time to cross. Which, of course, would have to be JUST as I'm speeding along the road. I think he was thinking, "Oh, that giant white thing hurling toward me must be a beautiful soft cloud," either that or he was blinded by the glare off Mom's enormous white Cadillac... So he ran. Ran. He's a bunny. And there was NO cute hopping. I think he knew he was roadkill as soon as he took that first move.
Fortunately, he actually made it. With an inch or two to spare even, although not without some swerving and braking and squealing of "Oh MY GOD, they all want to die today," on my part, and much laughter on my Mom's.
By the time we got back to the house, I was a nervous wreck on the road. Because not even five minutes... FIVE MINUTES after the bunny, but what happens? Oh yes. Another cute little chipmunk decides to play automotive roulette with the car. And LOST.
Why??? For the love of all things furry, why?!?!
I think it was a conspiracy. Maybe something dark and sinister is moving through the woodland world and they've got their own version of Jonestown and cool-aid going on. Or maybe they all have an equally twisted sense of humour and were throwing out little robotic fakes just to see some poor, unsuspecting driver like me freak out.
I think I'll go with the latter and laugh it off. Otherwise, I might be scarred.
P.S. - the sign on this illustration reads:
DANGER
Land Speed Record Attempt
Leave Area
Land Speed Record Attempt
Leave Area
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