Tradition

Some families maintain traditions steeped in historical, religious, or ethnic meaning. In our family, traditions usually come about as a result of having done something fun and the desire to repeat it again and again. Of course each time we repeat our traditions they take on a slightly different flavor but we savor them nonetheless.

Such is the case with our Easter tradition.

Several years ago we decided to spend Easter weekend at a small, semi-rustic cabin in the mountains. Our kids were getting older and increasingly busy with jobs, friends, and various activities. Family time became scarce, so we opted for a weekend devoted to just being together, bonding, and having fun. That year we enjoyed the time so much it kicked off a tradition of going to the mountains every Good Friday and staying through Easter weekend. With the five of us crammed into a tiny two-bedroom cabin there is plenty of opportunity for laughter, deep conversation, game playing, and soul restoration.

There's also time for our annual headgear photo. This is the first one. It is also my favorite because it captures a sponteneous moment when Steve said something that made us all laugh just as the camera shutter clicked.

Easter 2007

 

One hallway in our house is now lined with framed images from each of our subsequent holiday weekends. They make me happy every time I look at them.

 

This year our weekend had an extra little twist that added to our bank of memories.

 

Anna took the train home from college on Friday morning and after picking her up, packing, and loading the car, we set out on our journey. We didn't time our departure very well and ended up in the stop-and-go traffic of people headed to a Rockies baseball game. When we finally made it to Boulder we decided to make a quick biology stop. After a few minutes we were ready to make the last trek to the cabin but our Jeep had other ideas. It wasn't going anywhere. Steve checked everything he could think of under the hood but eventually announced that the vehicle needed to be towed to the nearby repair shop.

 

This was not part of the original plan.

 

Getting to the mountains without a car was going to be tricky.  Fortunately Parker lives in Boulder and has a Jeep of his own. Unfortunately he was working in Denver. We unloaded our belongings onto the curb.

 

Watched as our vehicle got towed away.

 



 

And looking a bit like refugees from the city, awaited Parker's arrival.  It was well after dark when we finally made it to the cabin but eventually we all arrived safely and ready to immerse ourselves in the joy and relaxation we've come to expect.

 

On Sunday it was time to take our annual Easter Family Photo. We had recently been having a conversation about eventual changes to the photo. Our children are now all young adults and we anticipate the day will come when 'add on' family members may be joining our little fivesome. Steve and I have discussed at what point these fictitious but anticipated, someday, additional family members will be invited to join the photo...and our expectation that they won't fuss about having to wear something on their heads.

 

Sadie was our additional family member guinea pig. Okay, she is actually a dog, but anyway, she was our first addition. I'd like to say she didn't fuss about having to wear something on her head but I'd be lying. She fussed. A lot. Should human additional family members cause that much commotion about it they will probably be thrown out of the family, but we cut Sadie some slack and she eventually complied.

 

Happily.

Easter 2014



As it does every year, Monday arrived much too soon and we were forced to leave our little mountain Utopia and return to real life. As we headed into Denver we got a call about our Jeep. It seems some little, but important, thingy had broken and the only way to fix it is to rebuild the engine.

 

Turns out the weekend ended up being a lot more expensive than we had anticipated but that didn't stop us from having fun, taking our annual headgear photo, and trying out the new family member requirements.

 

I'd like to go on record, however, by stating that as much as I love our traditions, if I get to choose, I think I'll take fussing new family members in bunny ears over engine repairs.

 

Some things just don't need to become traditions.

 

 

 







Merci(less) Me

When I got up this morning my agenda for the day did not include killing a squirrel.

But then...plans change.

I've never killed an animal before. I have made the decision to have a few cats euthanized but it is always one I make soberly and I never let them cross over alone. Several of my family members think I'm slightly insane when I ask that they take insects outdoors to freedom rather than smash them indoors. I've been known to try to convince a couple of mice to leave on their own before we resort to setting traps.  I'm basically a pacifist. And a weirdo.

I was met with a challenge this morning, however, when Sadie was going berserk over an incapacitated squirrel under our backyard deck.  I don't know what was wrong with the squirrel. It isn't impossible that Sadie injured it but I don't think she did. Regardless, the little squirrel was under our deck and Sadie was trying everything she could think of to reach it. I could hear the squirrel crying and chirping in obvious pain. After some consideration I decided that I had to do the merciful thing and kill it.

Problem #1. I have no idea how to kill something.

Steve had mentioned that over the coming weekend he was going to take apart a step leading out from the deck to the yard. It is actually a low platform made up of several boards. Initially the plaintive cries from the injured squirrel were coming from under the platform step so I decided to start the reconstruction project a little early by removing boards in order to reach it. Lacking a hammer or drill or any other real construction tools I used an old shovel to pry up the boards. This took considerable time. Time I used to develop a plan for what I was going to do once I had access to the critter.

Having never killed anything before I started going over possible ways to put this little creature out of its misery.  Whack it with the shovel? Nah. That wouldn't work. I know myself. I'd never hit it hard enough. All I would accomplish would be hurting it more. I remembered a story my brother told about his wife shooting a snake with a shotgun. She killed it and it makes for a rather funny story, but no. Shooting the squirrel wasn't an option.

I finally decided that after removing enough boards to get close to the squirrel I would scoop it up into the shovel and take it to the pond where I would drop it in and let it drown.  Not the most humane way in the world but better than causing it further injury or letting it suffer.  Once it was dead I planned to fish it out with the trusty shovel, put it in a garbage bag, and place it in the trash can awaiting removal by the curb. I was feeling pretty confident about the whole thing until I got the boards removed and saw the suffering rodent. My heart pounding, I was determined to do right by him as I attempted to scoop him into the shovel. Apparently he didn't like my plan. He dragged himself far enough away that I couldn't reach him.

Problem #2. I have no idea how to kill something.

With the squirrel now further under the deck I had the option of letting him continue to suffer, cry, wheeze, and eventually die or, I could find another way to get him out. I figured water would do the trick so I turned the hose on and let it drip down between decking boards. This did absolutely nothing except make the squirrel cry louder and make the suffering little rodent a muddy, suffering little rodent. At one point I actually heard my self say out loud, "Oh come on little squirrel. I don't want to hurt you...I just want to kill you."

There was nothing left to do but take apart the deck. Continuing to use my old rusty shovel, I started prying at the deck boards. I got a board up in one piece but broke a couple of other ones in my lust for blood. Except I was trying to avoid blood.

I pulled up enough boards to see the little squirrel and again planned to scoop him into the shovel and drop him in the pond. What I hadn't planned on was the little squirrel's determination not to go for a final swim. Mr. Squirrel (or Mrs., I couldn't tell) wanted nothing to do with my plan. He managed to drag his little body to a foundational deck post that made a small three-sided box and wedge his bedraggled, muddy, mangled little body snugly between two boards.

Damn.

Problem #3. I have no idea how to kill something.

With the squirrel now wedged tightly between two boards I had to come up with a new plan. I wasn't sure the squirrel was even able to unwedge itself and I tried to use a little garden spade to dislodge it. I couldn't. It cried. Once again, I was afraid of hurting the squirrel before killing it. He was already hurt enough I couldn't see hurting him more. Now that he was wedged between boards I didn't know how to kill him. I considered stabbing him. But with what? A kitchen knife?  Um. No. Besides, I knew I'd never be able to go through with it. A bloody murder scene was out of the question.  Poison? Dang, fresh out of poison.

I knew if I let Sadie into the backyard she would make quick work of the problem. But I couldn't stand the thought of her killing something and I wasn't entirely sure why the poor squirrel was dying. What if it was sick? I  also couldn't shake the haunting thought that if I let her kill it she might not remember that the cats were cats. I didn't want to take the chance she'd enjoy it so much she'd want to do it again. No. I couldn't let Sadie get him.

I decided the best thing to do was to try and pull him out of his hiding place so I mustered up my courage, donned some leather work gloves and with my heart pounding even harder this time, reached down under the deck and grabbed his tail. He let out a loud scream. I let out an even louder scream. He hunkered into his wedge. I fell backwards onto the deck.

Alrightlythen. Pulling him out by the tail wasn't an option either.

And then I heard the garbage truck.

Damn.

Problem #4. I have no idea how to kill something. 

Having exhausted all of my brilliant ideas for humanely taking care of my squirrel friend. I decided to go inside and work for a while. In my office I couldn't see him nor could I hear his sad little cries. Surely he would die soon. I gave him an hour. I tried not to think about him as I worked but at the one-hour mark I went to check on him. He was still and quiet and peaceful. I spoke kindly to him and told him I was sorry things hadn't quite gone as planned. I was pretty sure he was dead and I would be able to remove him from his hiding spot. Just to be sure though, I gently poked him with a stick.

He let out a loud scream.

I let out an even louder scream.

Damn.

This wasn't going well.

I'd like to say my plan worked and I was able to usher the little squirrel into rodent paradise. But I can't. As of right now he is still alive and I have no idea how to kill him. As much as I wanted to play the benevolent grim reaper all I really managed to do was damage the deck and talk to a squirrel.

When I got up this morning my agenda didn't include killing a squirrel.

I guess I stuck to my plan afterall.

UPDATE:  Following publication of this post Steve came home and humanely took care of the little squirrel.