Fate

I watched him in fascinated horror. He was on his side in the shallow water; his body was heaving as he gasped for breath. It’s hard to determine the expression in a trout’s eyes, but I’m sure I saw his fear.

My ex-husband had caught him, and stuck a yellow nylon cord through his cheek to attach him to the bank so the fish couldn’t escape. Mr. X wanted him fresh for dinner.

At first, the trout had struggled mightily. He flipped and flopped attempting to escape. As his strength waned, his struggles diminished. Each time a fresh wave hit him, his energy was renewed and he tried again—in vain. At the last he only quivered occasionally. Waves washed over him, but he could no longer battle.

Do fish think? Did he hope? His strength spent, all he could do was wait for his Fate.

I know how he felt.

Waves are washing over me, but I can barely manage a twitch right now. I wait.

Later this month, I have a doctor’s appointment for another round of blood tests. The answers won’t be pretty. I’ve already received some of the news and know my body is betraying me. I have a choice of bad or worse (not fatal…just frightening…no pity is required). Until I have answers, there is nothing I can do but hope. I breathe in, breathe out, and wait.

Meanwhile, waves of unanswered e-mails, unsent thank you notes, work related papers, and housework lap over me. Occasionally I feel a burst of energy, but it is gone in a heartbeat. I don’t have the energy to struggle.

Mr. X reached for the nylon cord with a smile, “He’s not big, but he’s enough for supper.”

“No,” I said. “Let him go.”

“Are you crazy? He will make a good meal!” he replied.

“I’m not crazy. But, I looked him in the eyes. I can’t eat him. Let him go.”

After some argument, Mr. X reluctantly released the trout into the shallow water and stomped back to the truck. I stood watching the fish for some minutes, as he tried to regain his strength.

At last, he swished his tail and disappeared into the deep water. He escaped his Fate. No frying pan for him.

That time.

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Makes You Want To Turn Off Comments

Oh, children. Someone who calls him/her self “realist in Denton” commented on my post about the Denton Jazz festival. Do y’all ever get comments that make you want to twist someone’s head off? I just have to share with you. This is what the goofball had to say:

Either you haven’t been to a concert in ages, or you are just bitter. There weren’t just kids being rude, drunken adults your curmudgeonly age were far worse in my area than any kids I saw. So get off your high horse, deal with what happens when you go see a big name band at a general admission venue… or go pay your overpriced $$$ to see seated shows at the aac, etc.

This was my response:

First of all, “realist,” I said “people” not kids. I’m fully aware there were people my age who were drunk and disorderly. Second, obviously your momma didn’t teach you any manners. You are a perfect example of what I was grousing about. This is MY house. If you want to make rude remarks do it to your own momma.

Remember that line in Hamlet? This kid “doth protest too much, methinks.” I’d almost bet money that this is the little smart aleck drunk who was trying to push me around!

I e-mailed the response to the person, but does anyone want to bet that it bounces back? I’ve noticed that spineless people who go into people’s blogs and leave nasty comments usually don’t leave their real e-mail addresses.

I’ve got better things to do. Like finish photographing some afghans for kids with cancer. We have 111 showing in the afghan gallery now.

Back to it.

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Bananas Make Baby Boys?

bananas.jpgThat was the headline for a CNN article, and you know I had to read it! I was wondering how a banana could do that.

Turns out you have to eat them.

It seems that researchers in England spent untold amounts of money studying to see if what a woman eats before she conceives will influence the gender of her baby. They were trying to test some of the old wives tales about choosing your baby’s sex. You can skip over to the Baby Center to see some other folk “wisdom.” Those old wives were pretty obsessed with sexual positions! Who would have thought?

Yes, the researchers found that women who eat lots of bananas tend to have baby boys.

So, I’m wondering if eating lots of mangoes makes little girls? Ba dump bump. Ahem.

Seriously, in this study, scientists evaluated 740 women in their first time pregnancies to try to determine if the mother’s eating habits are connected to the baby’s gender. They found that women who ate food with high levels of potassium, high levels of calcium, or who ate cereals tended to have boys. In fact, women who had high caloric intake seemed to be more prone to having boys while women who restricted their diets most often had girls.

Hmmm. And, this is important why? It was always my opinion that you took the child you got and were delighted if it was healthy. What’s the deal with spending this kind of money on something that stupid? We could be spending the money to help prevent global warming, help cure cancer, or feed the children who are already on the planet?

I’m going to start designing “studies” and see if I can get in on some of this free grant money action. I’m just delighted that the study was done in England, because if my tax dollars were being spent on such foolishness I’d go apoplectic.

Y’all don’t tell me how my tax dollars are being spent. I’m living in blissful ignorance.

Sheesh. Bananas. Somebody is nuttier than a fruitcake.

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I appreciate y'all talking to me, Linda, Cindee, Susiej, Archshrk, Jamie, Jessica The Rock Chick, and Comedy Plus!

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