Raccoon Scramble

This is Bernice. Don't be fooled...

Our mainland cat Bernice is an exemplary feline and a voracious predator/murderer. I don't say this lightly. Perched calmly in the photo above, framed by greenery, orchids and art, doesn't accurately portray her usual nature. She's definitely shown me why keeping a cat indoors is a favor both to the cat and the neighborhood critters. I've had many kitties in my lifetime, but she is the most prolific hunter I've ever known.

I've mentioned elsewhere how I like to keep air flowing through the house (the "flow-through teabag" effect). I seldom, if ever, close the doors completely whether I'm home or not. There are consequences of doing that, of course, and I've come to accept most of them. Because the house is never completely closed up, Bernice has proudly presented her bounty of lizards, frogs, birds, hummingbirds, rats, mice and pygmy mice; most heartbreakingly, a baby bunny and most horrifyingly, a baby rattlesnake, all for my approval and admiration. We even have a generic name for the carnage, regardless of the critter involved. It's "birdy mayhem."

The "open door'" policy also seems to invite other critters inside as well. I've come home to a neighbor's sweet orange kitty, Miss Scarlet, happily asleep on my bed, like it was meant to be. (Bernice must have been out hunting.)

Last night around midnight I heard some noise coming from the utility porch, where I keep the pet food and water bowls. Ordinarily, our dog Olive keeps critters out of the house before they get very far, but she was spending the night at my daughter's house down the block for a sleepover with my grand-dog Pepper.

I got up to investigate, and found a giant raccoon happily polishing off Bernice's food, rattling the bowls to get the last crumbs. When we locked eyes, he made a run for it. I went and got my little video camera and followed him to see where he'd go. This is what happened next:

He ran through the house to the bedroom, jumped into the atrium window and into Bernice's bed, where he realized that there was no way out. When Bernice saw him, she stretched herself up as big as she could and challenged him as though she thought she was twice his size, when the opposite was true. At this point I was really only worried that the raccoon would hurt her somehow (half-asleep, I call Bernice "Olive", but she didn't notice). Hissing and swiping at him, she did her best to flush him out. His response? It seems he urinated in her poofy bed (you can hear it!) before making a dash back down the hall, into the upstairs "Rapunzel" room, out the open window and across the roof.

I love how Bernice ran after him with such conviction. That cracked me up. After the excitement was over, I shoved Bernice's poof into the washer, started it up and went back to bed (knowing full well that a raccoon had just sprinted across the sheets). Bernice kept vigil all night by my side, her neck stretched out like a meercat on security detail. There were no further incidents...

Of Course You Do

Mother's Day has me thinking about the tricks of the trade invented by moms to make life easier, especially when children are small. I admit to being pretty self-entertaining before I had a child, but when I got this brand-new little person who was my captive audience, it was the most amazing thing imaginable, and I took advantage of it. I had way more fun with it (and her) than most, I think. I subjected my little girl to whatever antics I thought would captivate her attention, make her laugh or stretch her imagination. I performed a lot of one act plays, monologues, comedy skits, silly songs, strange faces and stranger sounds. Plus I mimicked many of her own behaviors to perfection just to keep us both entertained.

I'd stand at the stove preparing her breakfast. There she'd sit in her highchair while I sang a song I'd made up, entitled "Makin' Eggies for Ma Baby." It became a classic, and also involved slapping my bare feet on the kitchen floor (as the accompanying percussion) in time with my tune. Note: My daughter (now 26) just called. I told her I'm writing about this and she said, "You mean when you'd smack your platypus toes on the floor?" (I always love how kids "keep it real.") So, apparently it was memorable (but now I'm hoping it didn't do any permanent damage). Anyway, she'd listen, watch my every move, glance at my feet, watch the eggs flip in the pan and beam a big smile of approval. She was a truly appreciative audience.

Life was a musical comedy for us even back then, and she got used to me making up songs and lyrics that pertained to the situation at hand. Other favorite titles included, "Hello Baby Doggy," "Even When You Hate Me, I Love You," "The Going to School Song," "Got the Kids and the Dog and My Wife and my Truck - Kyuck, Kyuck, Kyuck." (That one her father, a painting contractor, made up. We sung it proudly like we meant it...because we did.) My daughter continues this tradition to this day in her own life, and has a list of hits as well, including "I'm So Sleepy, On my Pillow."

We even made up songs about her school studies, because while she could remember lyrics so easily, memorizing textbook quiz answers was practically impossible, or at least very stressful for her. Music came easy from the day she was born. Ask about our Science Class hit, "In-gestion, Di-gestion, Respir-ation, Ex-cretion" sometime for a real treat, but you probably won't want to see the visual aid/performance art that goes along with it. (She aced the test.)

Music was only one tool I used to make life more fun. Another tool in my kit included a saying I've used since my daughter was small. Four simple words, "Of course you do." Some of my friens have adopted the saying, because they've heard me say it to my daughter (or their kids) over the years. I've used it on them here and there too. When they use it on me, I'm not sure whether they're mocking me or actually see the value in it.

I started using it on my daughter when she was three years old or so, because that's the age that kids start seeing things in stores, pointing them out and loudly letting you know they W-A-A-A-N-T I-T, whatever "it" is. As a budgeted young mother, I couldn't really afford to buy everything that caught a three-year-old's eye, so I tried to figure out a way of saying no without diminishing her spirit, while simultaneously validating her good taste in "stuff."

Household shopping trips for a young family exposes you to lots of other mothers shopping with their kids. There's plenty of opportunity to watch as they totally destroy the hope in their child's eyes, discount their child's appreciation for wonderful things and let their child know that their opinions hold no weight, sometimes with an accompanying smack! You see a lot of disappointed and crying children in the store over things they w-a-a-a-a-n-t.

Sometimes you even see kids disintegrate into a mass of flailing arms and legs, screams and tantrums. Mothers are left to figure out how to deal with that for themselves. I guess it's the stress of the budget, or exhaustion, or other unknown circumstances, but I always thought I'd try something different when my daughter started whining for things.

My approach went something like this:

Her: Mom, look at this! I want it...can I have it Mommy, can I have it? I need it to live! That is an actual quote, she would actually say, "I need it to live" about things. Even so, I didn't discount that comment. I was fairly certain she'd still get to live if we left without the object, but I still acknowledged how strongly she felt about the "thing."

Me: Of course you do! Oh my goodness, look how great that is! I'd mention the color, the style, and whatever else was appropriate for the item du jour. I'd tell her that I could certainly see how wonderful it is and why she might want it. I'd tell her I loved it too, especially if I meant it. "Who wouldn't want something as fabulous as that?" I'd ask.

And we'd stand there together, unified in our total adoration of the object at hand, imagining the many uses and the enjoyment that would come from having such a thing. The groundwork was laid that let her know that her opinion was valued.

Of course, the harder part came next. The reality of the actual acquisition of the item. Depending on the price and circumstances, there were options, but often none of them meant taking the item home that same day. There was planning to do, also known as financial finagling.

We'd add the item to her wish list and maybe drop off or change the priority for something else to make room for this new thing. I would tell her the truth, that we couldn't afford it today, but I never let her think anything was impossible, because it wasn't. If she kept her focus and desire for something, we would find a way to get it. With little children, focus fades quickly and they're on to something new, so issues often resolved themselves by default.

We'd stand there, unified once again, this time by the reality of our finances and our mutual disappointment that immediate gratification was going to take longer than advertised. At least now we had a plan.

As a young woman, my daughter is a master at figuring out how to get the things she truly wants. She's an excellent negotiator, too. When she got married, she navigated all the contracts with the wedding vendors, and to this day I don't think that wedding photographer knew what hit him.

It started with a desire to validate a child's wants, but it turns out that those four words seem to help for other things too, not just for the material objects that catch one's eye. I've used those words for friends wanting to make changes in their lives, move to another place, take a fabulous vacation or make a relationship change. We could all use some "nurturing" and validation when sharing life's dreams or transitions.

When someone important to me spontaneously shares their life's wants or dreams, even though logic or circumstances finds them implausible or difficult (maybe even impossible) to attain, I offer at least a moment of validation. To do so says that you listened and did your best to understand (just like a loving mother would). That you want for them what they want for themselves...even if they're just thinking out loud.

So one day, if your dear frien says, "Sometimes I feel like chucking it all, loading my dog into my truck and driving away." Don't be alarmed. It's not the same as saying that they're going to do it. It doesn't mean it's going to happen. It just indicates a desire to "unplug" from current reality and step for a moment into a newly imagined one, which, in the doing, can be a vacation in itself. So merely listen, lean in and imagine their successful escape in that moment. If you love them, simply say, "Of course you do."

Flu Shot!

The threat of swine flu (H1N1 for Scott's comfort) and the media's take on what to do about it has been quite a boon for the island. All cruise ships bound for ports along the Mexican Riviera have been rerouted to other Pacific Coast stops. Catalina Island is one of them. It's amazing how the town is transformed. On our way back from Pebbly Beach, it's unusual to see a cruise ship here, and even Olive can tell something's up.

The Catalina Island Chamber of Commerce is a very proactive force in promoting the island, recognizing opportunities and making contacts. Their efforts have island merchants working at peak capacity to accommodate the cruisers. It's been a tough year overall for all tourist-dependent economies like ours, and this is unexpected.

There were two cruise ships in harbor Friday.

Saturday morning there are two different cruise ships in harbor already by 6 a.m.

We stroll back through town around noon to check on the "effects of the flu" on the island. The main street skirting the harbor, only two streets away from the quiet street where we live, is filled to the brim with people. We hear and see a lively and colorful Folklorico performance, with the two cruise ships as a backdrop:

Large crowds are enjoying the show, including a huge "pack" of men dressed in solidarity. They fill the streets, the bars, they're everywhere! They're all wearing T-shirts explaining their mission (I hope the bride is doing something fun this weekend):

Apparently the back of the shirt serves as a To Do checklist of some sort:

All I know is that they contributed to the healthy bottom line for a few merchants in town, and hopefully no one got hurt (there seemed to be quite a few of them in the fountain as I walked away).

Sunday comes, and here's another one! Welcome ashore!