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Thursday, July 26, 2007

  • The Day I Tortured a Skunk…Accidentally

                It was a cloudy Sunday morning.  It must have been around nine in the morning, because I had just awakened my siblings so we could prepare for Sunday school.  My Grandmother phoned our house.

     

                My grandmother (my father’s mother) lives right next door.  This is amazing because it’s like unlimited milk and cookies within a twenty second walk.  However, this morning she had a problem.

     

                “Stephen, there is a dead skunk on my front porch.  I want you to come get it and carry it off into the pasture”

     

                This was more common than you’d think.  My grandmother’s little Chihuahua/terriers would kill small animals and leave them on the porch.  This we assumed was the case here.  I found our trusty shovel and, in my favorite blue pajamas, took the twenty second walk to my grandmother’s house.  Here I find the dead skunk on the porch.  As I push the shovel under the skunk I get the surprise of my morning.  This “dead” skunk was apparently not dead.  It started shaking its head around.

     

                Being oh so familiar with the less than pleasant skunk stench ability, I tossed it from the shovel and it spiraled about thirty feet into the front yard, landing on the grass with a thud.

     

                I very much expected the skunk to run off, but apparently it didn’t.  My best guess was that the dogs had broken its back though it had not died, so it could move its head but nothing else.  I called my dad and asked him to come shoot the skunk and put it out of its misery.

     

                I’ve know that my father owns guns for years.  We live in the county and have livestock, so owning a gun came with the territory.  However, I can’t ever really remember my dad shooting a gun for spot or practice.  He came over with the rifle to shoot the skunk.

     

                We had an incident a while before where one of the neighbor’s dogs was trying to eat one of our goats.  My dad’s partner in the goat business was there and they shot the dog, though the goat later died from the wound.  Needless to say now every time there was a gun shot, all the neighbors ran in their back yards and counted their dogs.  My dad really regretted it later.  He hated hurting animals.

     

                Anyway, here he came with the gun to put the skunk out of its misery.  My grandmother was outside watching now and all three of us stood there as my dad prepared to shoot the skunk.

     

                BANG.

     

                I looked at my dad and then looked at the skunk.  My father had missed a paralyzed skunk at point blank range.  All of my faith in my dad’s ability with a gun disappeared at that point entirely.  I can’t imagine what the skunk was thinking.  Dad prepared to try again.

     

                BANG.

     

                This time he didn’t totally miss, no he managed to maim the poor animal.  The front right paw had been blown off.  The skunk was shaking its head wildly.

     

                “Oh no, I don’t think I can shoot it again.”

     

                “Dad! You didn’t shoot it to begin with.”

     

                “Stephen, just take it out and leave it in the barrels we use to burn trash, it’s going to bleed out and die in ten minutes or so.”

     

                I couldn’t be too upset with him.  He was working nights and had only slept about three hours.  As, he headed back to the house, I was left with the skunk.

     

                At this point I was fairy certain the skunk was incapable of spraying, otherwise we would all smell too unpleasant to go to church.  I picked up the skunk and its paw with the shovel and headed to the burn barrels.  There I left the skunk to die.

     

                Then I went to church.

     

                I don’t think I’ve ever felt so guilty during a sermon.  My mind kept on floating back to the poor skunk that was now surely dead.  During the invitation I said a silent prayer for the poor animal.

     

                Later that evening I was sent to burn the trash.  It was time for the final vigil in honor of the skunk.  I would burn the trash and send the skunk corpse away in a blaze of glory.  Okay, so all I actually thought about was burning the trash.  I hardly even thought about the dead skunk in the barrel.

     

                Okay, so I lit the trash naturally assuming the skunk was dead as my dad suggested.  Nope.  I heard it screaming as it burned to death.  It was dreadful. I actually felt like crying.

     

                The skunk had a last twelve hours could rival several mutilation and torture horror movies.  It was attacked by dogs, left to die on the porch, thrown thirty feet by a shovel, shoot at, maimed, left to die again, and finally burned to death. 

     

    Since then, I’ve never been able to say that I’ve had a bad day.

     

Wednesday, July 25, 2007

  • The love of Siblings

    Warning: This blog is pretty long, and it has alot of very emotional memorys and complicated family ties.  Do not read if you have heart or back problems or are pregnant or nursing. 

    (Just Kidding... it's just really long)

    For those of you who don't know I have five Younger siblings.

    Yes

    5- (That's a lot)

    Names and approximate ages (I have a hard time remembering Birth dates)

    Clarence- 18

    Elizabeth- 16

    Aron- 14

    Darryl-12 (Half brother on my mother's side)

    Dennis- 7 (Half brother on my father's side)

    For the last few years before the 2006-2007 school year Clarence, Elizabeth, Dennis and I all lived with my father and stepmother in Early, TX.  Darryl has lived with my mother in the small west Texas town of Plains,TX.  In the last year things went crazy. 

    When I graduated, Clarence decided to go to live with our mother, part to help see to her due to her spinal cord injury, part to escape the reputation he had developed in Early. Unrelated, but not long after this, my stepmother and father divorced and she moved to Colorado with Dennis.  Her and my father had separated before and almost divorced and back and fourth, and this was just the last time.  At the end of this last school year Elizabeth decided to move to live with my mother and my father gave into the wish.

    (if you're still reading and understood any of this it's a miracle)

    So, in one year my father went from living in a house with six other people to living in a house with one other person, my brother Aron.  This was a big change, naturally.

    At this point in my life I want to start looking back.  Have I been a good big brother?  Can I do better with the light interaction I have left with them?

    I remember many times with Clarence.  He is only a year and a half younger than I am, so he has been one of my best friends and worst enemies all my life.  Clarence is now a little taller than I am and he wears his hair long.  We couldn't be much more different.  He plays guitar, quite well actually, and loves rock music.  School has never been really important to him, though he has renewed interest in going into college.  He has always been very attached to our mother, and though we each love both of our parents, I've always been more attached to hanging out with my dad. 

    I'm sure I made some things hard on him.  I was always an honor student and worked hard to excel in everything I did.  This was tough for him to escape.  We also argued and still argue like crazy.  Not always hurtful, but just always.  He knows how to make me mad, and he's probably the only one on Earth that can really do it.  He will argue with me even if I just sit there and do nothing.  He will make up facts and ignorant statement to back up his arguments so that I never know if he is telling me something he actually read or just made up. 

    However,

    There is no one I've shared more of what I think or care about.  I can put confidence about anything in Clarence.  We've also had some amazing times.  My grandfather game me his upright antique piano. Clarence and I drove down to Weatherford from Brownwood to get it in the old '73 Cheyenne Chevrolet pickup.  It leaned to one side a little when we got the piano loaded, and we just knew the pickup would flip at we were driving home.  We also found out that one of the headlights was out, and I couldn't find the proof of insurance, so we went to the local hardware store and worked on the light (the wires were al frayed) for about an hour.  All the time and the way home I don't ever think we got along so well.  We talked like old friends and had a wonderful journey home.

    Now he's going to go to college at South Plains College and go for some type of music degree.  I'm scared to death for him, but I have great hope that he will get to work and do well.  I have faith in his restored will to excel in college.  (You're in my prayers little bro.)    

    Elizabeth.  Oh! where to start.  She is really an amazing girl.  She was one of the cutiest kids ever, I can't believe she is in High School now.  If you want to know how to make me mad, other than being Clarence, just hurt my sister and I'll knock your head off.  (Don't let her know I said that.) Elizabeth got things hard in our ultra split family, especially being the only girl of five children.  She is having it rough herself.  So many of her problems of shyness and not knowing how to react to people came from the way we all grew up.  Much of what she's gone through I wouldn't wish on anybody, and half of it I'm sure I don't even know about.  She want to make something of herself, and I have to try harder to encourage her and not belittle her as I've done unintentionally many times.  She used to call me her favorite brother, but things are harder between us now that she is a teenaged girl.  I want her to exceed the limitations she has placed on herself because of her childhood and I think she is beginning to want that too.  I know she can do great things, and I hope she will.

    Aron is an interesting kid.  He was the just a toddler when my parents began their divorce.  As a result he wound up living with my Grandmother, my mother's mother, for many of his years as a small child and his first few years as a child.  Sadly, I believe he was spoiled and convinced that he was not capable of doing his work in school and fell dreadfully behind.  This has put him in all sorts of problems. He is unaccepted by his peers and made fun of now.  He also has all the problems he could amplified by the way our family is split and often in the past been at each other's troughs.  I see a silver lining though.  Things are getting better as he is getting older.  He still causes plenty of problems at school, but I think he is coming into his own and he has great dreams of becoming an artist.  I really hope he does.

     

    Darryl.  I couldn't be more proud of this kid.  He is smart, talented and athletic.  I love every opportunity I get to spend with him. Despite some problems he has focusing in school, he reminds me much of my self.  I'm seven or so years older than him and he looks up to me so much.  Of all my siblings he is the one I've got the see the least.  He is closer than Dennis is now, but I live close enough to my dad that I can see Dennis every time he visits.  I only see Darryl when I go to visit my mother.  He is as sharp as a tack and if I could get his nose out of the video games I think he could become a great little Saxophonist (he is in his middle school band).  He faces many racial barriers that none of us other children face.  My mother had an affair with a black man named Emit Brown before my parents divorced.  He is Darryl’s father, though as far as I know no one's heard from him in years.  He has had some time with is father's family though.  I know that for a kid like Darryl getting past these challenges will be nothing difficult, so long as he realizes that.

    Then there is Dennis.  He is my youngest brother- eleven years and ten months to the day younger than I am.  As a result I have had a bigger part in him growing up more than any of my other siblings.  He lived with me up until a  half a year ago when he and my stepmother moved to Colorado.  Dennis is so bright and outgoing, which makes sense growing up with so many siblings in the house.  He has been visiting us in Brownwood this summer.  I have loved getting to do things with him, and I need to spend more time with him.  It seems his energy never ends, and mine is gone as soon as I get off work and come home.  This kid is forever my little buddy.  So, It's my want that he should know this, even when he's off in Colorado.

    Time really is fast.  My childhood is gone, and there are so many things I need from it, so many things I missed because I had to be grown up.  These guys are my family, and I want to be there for them anytime they need me.  I doubt any of them will read this, in fact I doubt anyone will be able to understand the whole thing on the sparse chance they did read it.  However, it something I felt like writing down, and so much of who I am is a result of who they are.  So, I leave this blog with a sigh of nostalgic memory as I rub my eyes rest my typing hands.  Thank you for your time.

Tuesday, July 24, 2007

  • Alright.  I think I'm getting the hang of this.  Blogging is really weird.

    no... Really really weird.

    We seem to have gotten the idea in out heads that our personal lives are important enough to publish.  I now have a Facebook, a myspace and now a Xanga.  I must have lost my mind.  It takes me 30 minutes to an hour just to check all of these in addition to my three e-mail addresses.

    Not that it's all bad... I mean what can you not say with this entire stack of Emoticons.  It's amazing.

    I think I'm going to start blogging.  I feel like it's time I randomly spout off everything that I'm thinking about everything on the sparse chance that someone may read it.

    This is an art that is so new, it's insane that so many people embrace it.  I've been reading some blogs and I think I see the way you have to do it:

    1.  Find something random to describe or belittle. 

    Example 1: I think that new book totally sucked... except for the punctuation that was excellently printed.

    Example 2: I think (insert name here) is really funny looking.

    2. Describe the topic in sporatic detail:

    Example 1: Not only was the punctuation printed well, but it also had a page with more than 300 adverbs.

    Example 2: Did yoo notice how his nose turns to the left and his eye is halfed closed all the time.  Not to mention if you say the word pudding his arms flap about wildly.

    3. Chase bunny rabbits.

    Example 1: An adverb, if you don't know, is a part of speech that describes the verb. like  an adjective does a noun.

    Example 2: I like pudding.

    4. Return to subject with the phrase "Oh yeah, back to what I was saying."

    5. End without resolving the issue.

    Example 1: Anyway, I wouldn't read it if I were you... I didn't anyway.

    Example 2: But you didn't hear this from me...

     

    Then of course there are the blogs that have nothing to do with anything really.

     

    This is one of those.

  • I can't figure out how on earth to work this thing.  I am completly Xanga Illiterate.  This is driving me crazy.  Arrrggghh.  oh, well.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

  • Well...

    So, I've given in and I'm starting a Xanga.  I'm probably hopless at this so expect a mess.  Anyway, I'll post a blog soon, though I know no one will be reading them.