Author: SammiSteeves

Bye Bye Bird

As a cat owner, 3 times over, I have taken part in my fair share of small animal rescues. And failed rescues. There have been plenty of dead animals dropped on my doorstep, or even sometimes brought inside. On a few occasions, I have been lucky enough to rescue these small creatures and set them free.

This is not one of those stories.

First of all, we should go back to the end of January. While Justin and I watched tv, I could hear squeaking outside. I got up to look, and there was Nebula, our 8lb mishmash kitten, with a baby mouse. “Oh my gosh, Justin! Nebula caught a mouse!” It was a baby mouse, and after she brought it inside, I chased her around until she dropped the poor baby. It was mostly dead, but anyone who is a fan of The Princess Bride knows that mostly dead is still alive. I brought that little baby out front and put it in my flowerbed. Not even 5 minutes later, I hear the squeaking again. Oh no, not again!

I wasn’t sure if I had just two times rescued the same mouse, or if this was a new mouse. When I brought the mouse out front, its sibling was still alive and still in the garden. Nebula was just raiding a nest. Cheap hunt, Nebula.

The next morning I went outside, and stumbled upon a massacre. Captain SparklePaws had obviously stumbled upon the baby mice, and decided they were most definitely left there for him to snack upon. All that was left were pieces–a tail, a head, a couple feet. Nebula walked outside, took one look, and then looked back at me as thought I had wronged her: “Is this some kind of joke?! I hunted and trapped these mices, and you let someone else eat them!” She didn’t speak to me all day.

I kept waiting for more babies to be brought to the door, but we spent 2 months without any gifts, dead or alive.

Until yesterday.

Justin was walking past the back door and stopped. “Oh my gosh Sammi, Nebula has a bird!” No she doesn’t. Not possible. While he’s trying to stop her from entering through the doggie door, I snuck a peak. Oh my gosh, what do you know!? I immediately ran outside and attempted to save this little bird. Of course, if you’ve ever tried to take a live bird out of a cat’s mouth, it doesn’t matter if she is 8lbs or 800lbs, you will lose an arm. While she grumbled and growled the equivalent of “don’t you frigging touch my bird,” I tried to convince her to put it down so I could save it. Which is when she got up and jumped through the doggie door. “JUSTIN!!!! Stop her!!!” He had given up watching and had moved on with his life, so I was on my own.

I chased Nebula in the house, and up the stairs. I made it to the top just in time to watch her slink into Shea’s room. “Someone get me a paper towel!!!” I once again took my chances with my life. And once again, Nebula threatened to trade her mouse for my entire arm. Once again, she was on the move. For the love of all creatures everywhere, let the bird go.

She ran under Shea’s bed, and there was no way I could reach her. Finally, the bird managed to escape the grips of Nebula’s jaw, and it hippity hopped out and directly at me. Success! The bird was now mine!

The problem now was, where do I let this poor thing go that it won’t end up in the mouth of Nebula again. I took it out front and showed Justin that I was successful. She had lost a few tail feathers, and a few wing feathers, so I wasn’t sure of her ability to fly.

Justin and I stood outside for a few minutes, with the bird safely hidden under Justin’s car. It was starting to look like we were out of the woods.

Until, of course, the neighbor’s cat wandered over. “Oh hey y’all. I heard mention of a bird? Thought I would check out the situation.”
Meow-Meow Kitty, as we call her, is extra super friendly. She often comes over and sits outside our front window, and cries–until Captain SparklePaws decides to go outside and head out on hunting adventures.

She rubbed up against Justin’s leg, hung out next to him for a couple minutes, and then slowly made her way over to his car. “Oh…is that a bird??”

The bird flew out from under his car, flew two sad, low laps around his vehicle, landed, and was immediately scooped up by Meow-Meow Kitty. Are you kidding me?! “Meow-Meow Kitty, no! I just saved that bird!!!” She didn’t give a toot, and slowly pranced home, bird in mouth. I know my neighbors well enough to say hi if I see them outside, but, at this moment, I had to make a decision–chase down her cat on her front lawn and wrestle a bird out of the cat’s mouth, or admit my failure yet again.

I’m beginning to think maybe I’m not so good at this whole rescue and release biz.

I Can’t See Clearly Now, My Glasses are Gone

My son is the king of leaving his glasses everywhere. He might be really good about wearing them for a week, and then I might not see them for a month–they have been MIA since the start of Coronapocalypse.

Once upon a time, I also left my glasses everywhere. I don’t know why I was so thoroughly against wearing them. Maybe because I got my first pair at 6, and was the only kid in my class with glasses. I would accidentally lose them (yes Mom, the 2 months that they were lost and gone forever….on the bottom shelf of my nightstand, I honestly did not remember putting them there. I promise); I would intentionally leave them at home. I did all I could to not wear them. Which I look back on now and think how crazy that is. But now, if I tried to walk across my bedroom without my glasses, chances are, I would die.

On the days I would “accidentally” leave my glasses at home, at some point in the day I would look up to see my Mom walking at me, waving them in the air, announcing, “Sammi!!! You forgot your glasses!!!” It probably was not nearly that dramatic. But in my mind, she might as well have been carrying a megaphone: “Attention! May I have your attention please! Would Sammi please stop leaving her glasses at home, because I’m just going to keep bringing them to her at school!”
Of course, that was basically double embarrassment–now everyone will know that, not only do I wear glasses, but…..I have a mother! Oh the shame.

I am much less in denial these days. Yes, I do have a mom. And also, I wear glasses…when I’m not wearing contacts (which is most of the time).

Xander’s issue is less embarrassment than it is his total inability to remember where he leaves his things. I have found his glasses on the kitchen counter, in my nightstand, floating around in his backpack. They have spent days in my van, and I’ve even found them tucked away in the shoe rack. And, in his defense, he comes by this completely honestly. I have also found my “lost” phone in my sock drawer, the refrigerator, and also on the shoe rack.

For the past 3 weeks, I have been under the assumption that he had once again left them at school. With Coronapocalypse closing schools for the rest of the year, I had accepted they were lost and gone forever…until the school notified us that we had to drop off school packets and library books today! There might be home for these glasses yet!

Unfortunately, today during “pick up this school biz so you can get to work teaching your kids for the rest of the school year,” the Principal sent someone in to check his desk. Hello, glasses, are you there?? No?? Ok. Alas, no glasses.

I can’t wait to locate them in an unopened box of cereal. Or in his back pocket. Neither place would surprise me. If he walked downstairs wearing them right now and told me he’s been wearing them this whole time, that wouldn’t even surprise me.

March: In Like a Pandemic, Out Like a Tornado Watch

My goal for Coronapocalypse was to be better about writing every day. The problem with that is my world went from “pretty darn uneventful,” to “what day is it!?” These are weird times.

Also, March has been the month that kept on giving. We started with what seemed like the potential for good–after 18 years, the “war” in Afghanistan might actually come to and end. NYS had its first coronavirus case, and Washington state had announced its second Covid-related death. Way back then, life was still mostly normal.

Now we can sing, what a difference a month makes. 31 super long, painful days.

Of course, it would only be fitting for a month that started with potential (and slowly–no, rapidly–snowballed out of control), to end with me receiving a Tornado Watch alert. Not as bad as a Tornado warning, but certainly worse than the daily pollen alert I receive.

There are so many interesting aspects of living in the south. Fifteen years ago, I stood out like a sore thumb. At my very first job in Georgia, after being asked where I was from, I was then asked, “are you gonna speak Yank to us?” I guess I can try? I’ve never been good a picking up foreign languages.

One of the “interesting in a bad way” aspects can be the extreme weather. While we don’t have snow days, we did have a “flash flood day,” way back in February. Picture white-out conditions, but with rain and flooding. So much flooding.

Alabama isn’t part of “Tornado Alley,” but it is located in “Dixie Alley,” which I didn’t realize was actually a thing. Dixie Alley is known for a different style of tornado. The wetter style, I guess.
My children are professional Tornado siren experts. In 2015, a tornado touched down less than a mile from our house in KY, and the second that siren went off, they curled into little balls on the floor, tucking their hands over their heads. “Come on, Mom! get on the floor like this!” Yeah, I thought the on-post fire department was just being overly cautious…until we drove past the uprooted trees. Oops, I guess tornados are serious.

Our Tornado Plan consists of everyone cramming into a 6’x4′ bathroom. 4 humans, 2 boxers, a pug, and 3 cats. Yes, it will be a wonderful bonding experience. Thus far, we have yet to activate the tornado plan, although there have been moments when the kids were ready (Shea even packed a bag full of stuffed animals, and had to be reminded we would barely have room for the living creatures). Shea believes the best way to increase our space, is to make use of the under sink cabinet–cat storage, if you will. At one point I believe it was suggested that Justin could join them, but since he isn’t even flexible enough for child’s pose, I don’t think it’s going to be possible to get him into a space 4 feet wide by 2 feet deep…and only 3 feet tall. We haven’t tried cramming him in there, but logistically speaking, I don’t think it’s going to be possible.

Our Tailless Trio: Rufus, Emma, and Nebula

Our pug, Bruce, is 14 years old, and poops if you scare him. Awesome defense mechanism. I’m sure it will really go over well in our confined quarters. Rufus, has no concept of personal space, which I’m sure will be the perfect trait for Sardine Can Bathroom. Emma gets extremely bouncy when she’s excited. Or if Justin acknowledges her presence. Picture Tigger, in a bathroom, with too many individuals. Then sprinkle in 3 cats, and keep in mind that two of them are frequently tormented by the boxers; the third cat has no tail, and therefore is just like the boxers…I guess?

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31 days ago, we were still planning for Spring Break; it has now come and gone, Social-Distancing-style. March 1 began 734 hours ago, but if you ask anyone, they’d probably tell you it has felt like 734 days. Instead of school days and weekends, we have school-at-home days and the 2 days a week you have no rules. Well, limited rules.

Two more hours until this Tornado Watch is lifted. I will watch it touch down before attempting to cram anyone in the bathroom.

What a difference a pandemic makes.

Don’t Stop Me, Cuz I’m Havin’ a Good Cry, Havin’ a Good Cry Now!

When you live just west of the Chattahoochee, chances are you live in the crazy Eastern/Central limbo we inhabit. Our newspaper comes out of Georgia, Justin works in Georgia…well, that’s not really true. Fort Benning is a little bit in Georgia; a little bit in Alabama; a lotta bit a world unto itself. 95% of our shopping takes place on the east side of the Hooch (sorry Alabama–I have yet to embrace Rainbow Foods). It’s just the way it is.

A majority of time, it makes no difference. Who cares what side of that dirty river Alan Jackson sang about, we’re on.

Until, of course, Coronapocalypse came to Earth and said, “hey, wanna see something crazy?!” Now, suddenly, it’s all about what side of the river you land on.

Last night I received a notification from our local newspaper (out of Georgia). The governor of Georgia had announced that schools will now be closed through April 24th. Hmm…further down the article, it tells me what I need to know: Governor Ivey has cancelled the rest of the school year.

Hold up. Excuse me?! Can we just take a minute and think about this?!

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I am not a teacher. I am not pro-homeschool. I am not prepared for this!!! Furthermore, no one seems to know just how this is going to work. Thus far, my children’s learning has taken place via a 40-60 page packet of school work (half of which I know Xander has previously done for homework. You’re fooling no one, 3rd grade packet).

These are wild and crazy times. I don’t want to go out into the world and I certainly don’t want to send my children back to school. As of right now, our county has 1 case, and the neighboring Alabama county has 47. Alabama is still relatively low on the list of positive cases in the country. This state has 1/4 the population of NYS. But, do you know who doesn’t care about your state’s population?? Covid-19. Way back, 13 days ago, NYS had roughly the same number of cases that Alabama has right now. At this exact moment, New York state has more positive cases than France and the UK combined. By tomorrow, the number will have increased again. That’s the wild and crazy thing about exponential growth.

I am not ready to find out what this disease will do as it works its way across Rural America. Yes, it’s destroying large cities, but large cities also have doctors and hospitals. There are towns in Alabama where they can’t even afford to pave roads–doctors are not nearby. What happens to these people.

I have stockpiled a good amount of alcohol–which is weird for a person who hasn’t consumed alcohol since July (No, I’m not a recovering alcoholic or anything like that–I just don’t drink. Although, I might start attending online AA meetings: GRANT ME THE SERENITY TO GET THROUGH THIS ).

Alabama will decide what to do with this school year by April 6–how they plan on educating roughly a million children, so they can move on to the next grade. That is the moment when we can really kick our panic into high gear.

I’m going to go make myself a Malibu and Pineapple smoothie, and spend the next 8 hours drinking it (I’m a seriously cheap date). And I’m going to ignore the impending doom that is my children’s education!!!

Save PPE, Ms Dependent Ma’am, You Really Can

Today was our first adventure outside the house since The Great Aldi Trip of Last Thursday. The day didn’t get off to the best start, so I wasn’t thoroughly looking forward to the adventure, but it seems kids need to eat. Every day.

I started the day off by putting on a pair of LuLaRoe leggings–not to actually leave the house in. Just so I wouldn’t be wandering around the house in my underwear. For all you ladies who are “obsessed” with LuLaRoe leggings…I’m sorry but something is wrong with you. It’s probably more likely that there’s something wrong with me, since so many people are in love with them. They’re soft, don’t get me wrong, but they give me hot flashes! No, I’m serious! My legs overheat and then my entire body breaks out into sweat. Which, is pretty much my normal, but I checked my temperature twice this morning, concerned that Justin brought me Covid-19 from work, before I realized it was these damn pants.
That aren’t even flattering. You go girl, if you have to confidence to leave the house in these things. And again, maybe it’s just me, but I pop a pair of LuLaRoe leggings on and instantly look like the really sexy love child of Danny DeVito and Sally O’Malley. For the record, these were hand-me-downs/ups/overs. Whatever, my sister gave them to me.

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Hot and sweaty is something I’m good at. It’s basically a way of life for me. However, if the temperature is above 50 degrees, I can’t even hang out in those super soft, super unflattering leggings. The 2 hours I had them on this morning were a terrible idea. I changed out of my At Home Leggings, and into my Leaving the House Workout Pants, which Justin says are just as unflattering, but he can’t be trusted–he wears the same outfit. Every. Single. Day. I can’t believe no one has ever called him out for it!

My weather app also starts every day by sending me a warning that my allergies are going to make me want to tear my eyeballs out. Also, did you know that itchy eyeballs is now on the list of symptoms for Covid-19?! I mean, it’s more of a viral pink eye situation, than it is an allergy eye thing. But still. It’s like Alabama wants me walking around, looking like Patient Zero. “Oh. My. God. Becky. Look at her eyes. They are like, so red and swollen.” Thanks, Coronavirus, for perfectly aligning with allergy season. Tree pollen, freshly mowed grass, and wisteria from here until tomorrow.

My gosh, I’m more sidetracked than usual! Let me just get right to it.

PPE: Gloves. Face Masks. You know, the items that hospitals are begging for?! People seem to be mildly confused about how it all works.

As I pulled onto post today, to play another round of 30 Items or Less, I watched the woman driving ahead of me try to hand her ID card to the gate guard–woah woah woah, that could send us to threat level We’re All Gonna Die!!! During Coronapocalypse, you hold out your ID card so they can scan the back, and then flip it over so they can see the front. We aren’t doing the whole touching thing anymore.
So yes, she was confused about the ID card scanning policy (this is why I usual get in the U-Scan line). But even more confusing was that the woman was driving around alone in her vehicle, wearing a mask and gloves. Medical grade gloves–not those vinyl food grade babies I have for tie dye and hair dye and whatever else I want to use them for. What the heck are you protecting yourself from in your car? If you have coronavirus, you can’t give it to you.

Well, that was confusing. But I guess I get it. Not everyone understands what’s going on. These are scary times. And also, 3 of the 4 cases in the county happen to be people with ties to Fort Benning, so I’m sure that has People in a Pandemic Panic.

Once at the commissary, I watched multiple cars drive through the parking lot. At least half of them were being driven by seniors wearing masks and gloves! What’s going on here!?!? There weren’t even that many people inside the store wearing PPE, and yet here are people in vehicles occupied by only themselves, wearing their PPE. I bet their trunks were also full of toilet paper. Folks, if you Panic Purchased PPE, please don’t feel obligated to wear them all day, every day. I don’t see you out and about in toilet paper ballgowns, so just keep a box for your worldly adventures, and donate the rest to a hospital! Consider it your good deed for the day–or even for all of Coronapocalypse!

My receipt is sitting in front of me at my desk–oh my god, I had 31 items! In the 30 or less aisle?! It’s a miracle the MPs didn’t come and cart me off to Commissary Jail.

As for my LuLaRoe Leggings–they will be going into hiding until cold weather is upon us again. Voluntary hot flashes are no way to start the day.