It's funny --- well, kind of funny, how life passes by. I'm tempted to say, how life passes me by, but then I realize it hasn't passed me by; it just is. I don't grab parts of it I want to and make the most of them, I guess. I suppose nobody does. Or rather, I don't bother to grab what I think I want, and then I grouse mentally about it. That's probably pretty universal. I suppose, to be completely honest (is there anything that is truly completely honest), I grab pretty much what I want. The trouble is, reflecting upon it all is sometimes very discouraging and depressing. It doesn't seem like very much gets accomplished that I want to get accomplished. It is so difficult to quit comparing myself to other people and their massive accomplishments. And the problem with that is that I focus on those who have excelled, not on ones that have merely struggled along or have even failed.
Spring is such a phenomenal time of the year. It's fun to watch the ongoing development of massive reproduction in the world --- the robins dancing around in pairs, gathering twigs and whatever else it takes to make a nest. Same with the magpies and other birds.
It seems like the birds are most noticeable, but all life begins to stir. The trees. We even have some green trees now. The willow-like ones. I really ought to find out what they are. But not right now. Maybe later. Anyway, they're the first with leaves on their branches. The sugar maples will be budding, and the Gambel oak. Around here, they call it scrub oak. It's the predominant tree in the yard. The one tree I see the most of out in the backyard.
I ought to figure out how many varieties of different trees I can see out in the yard and in the surrounding yards, the ones that border our yard. I ought to at least know the names of all those types of trees. It seems like it ought to be in bare minimum.
At 2:30 AM on Easter morning I got up to go to the bathroom. No sooner had I gone out the bedroom door and headed toward the bathroom down the hallway than Asia stood up, hurried past me, and started running down the hall growling, and went through the kitchen and out the dog door. I went into the bathroom to do my business.
As I sat there, I was amazed that what I was passing was smelling so --- rigorous? --- and it made me start wondering what was the matter with my. My stomach wasn't hurting, and I hadn't eaten anything to account for the peculiar smell. As soon as I opened up the bathroom door, though, I knew exactly what had happened. Asia had gone outside, encountered a skunk, been sprayed, and had come back in the house.
I went back down the hall and into the bedroom where Shelley said something was wrong with the dog. Asia had ran into the bed and into the wall, as if she couldn't see. I turned on the light to see her --- the dog, that is --- and Asia was on her doggie pillow, foaming at the mouth. She had definitely been sprayed by a skunk. The funny --- poor choice of words, I know --- thing about the whole thing was that the smell in the house was very very strong, but it didn't smell so much like what a skunk smells like that you usually smell when one comes into the neighborhood. It was somehow very different. VERY different.
I hurried to give Asia a bath, and Shelley consulted her greyhound book, trying to find out what to do when a greyhound gets sprayed by a skunk. The first thing it said was not let the greyhound come back into the house. We laughed at that, even though it was so late, and we were tired and the intrusiveness of the situation was so very frustrating and aggravating. We knew we had family coming for Easter lunch and we had a lot to do to get ready. Yet now we had the smell in the house, and we had to do something about Asia.
Anyway, I took Asia to the bathroom, put her in the bathtub, and gave her a shower/bath. I didn't use anything on her --- no shampoo, no soap, no other chemicals. I just sprayed her off with warm water as well as I could, dried her, and let her go back in on the bedroom pillow.
The next day Shelley read about how Asia should be bathed in hydrogen peroxide, I believe it was. Early the morning Shelley began calling --- well, as early as Shelley dared --- our sleeping children on a weekend. She told them what had happened and told them they didn't need to come to be our guests for Easter lunch and if they didn't want to. Amy said she would come with her family and I think Mike was a little noncommittal.
I don't know how much we slept after the late-night encounter. Perhaps the smell had enhanced our sleep, for all I know. Maybe it's just luck we ever woke up again. I know that I did drift back off to sleep and slept okay for a few hours.
By morning, we were fairly accustomed to the smell. Kiele woke up and she didn't even know anything had ever happened until we told her about it.
Norman was the first person to show up on Easter, sometime afternoon but not quite one o'clock, when we were scheduled to begin having guests arrive. He was just checking in to see how we were doing and seeing what was going on. We were glad to see him and to hear about his trip to see his friend, Cory, in Arizona. He could smell the stench of a skunk, but it wasn't offputting enough to drive him away, and he stayed and enjoyed the meal with us.
Oh, did I mention that Easter Sunday was also general conference? Well, it was. And it isn't a joke to say that it was the stinkiest general conference we ever experienced in our home. To tell the truth, we were so busy, we didn't really get to listen to much of Sunday conference. We'll check it out later. I understand it was actually pretty good, especially morning session.
Today is my brother's birthday. Happy birthday, brother, wherever you are. I wish you well, and wish I could be more for you.
I retired from public service to concentrate more time and effort on writing and other interests. I have two beautiful grandchildren and four grown children. I am married and have been for 37 years to my sweetheart.