Author: D. L. Keur

The Power to Help.

Posted on by D. L. Keur

I have two ants safely harbored in a peanut butter jar, a piece of screen keeping them inside.  They came here inside my husband’s lunchbox from the construction site.  Of course, they didn’t come on purpose.  They weren’t particularly interested in visiting places far, far away.  They were after goodies and got hijacked by the lid being closed and zippered shut.  So home they came…surviving what had to be a very dangerous and uncomfortable trip, jostled between empty lunch containers, locked inside a plastic and nylon environment in 100 degree heat. 

So hubs opens lunch box to dump his containers into the sink and does the old, “Ants! Oh, great.”

Now, I have a “thing” about ants.  It’s the one creature…en masse…which will send me screaming off in a frothing panic. (I was bitten by red ants when I was a child and have never quite recovered from the experience.)  But I also have a “thing” about life and its being precious.  I have a “thing” which demands me respect all life…and non-life.  And, me, a human, has the power to help.  And that’s what it comes down to, doesn’t it?  If I have the power to help, doesn’t that obligate me to help where I can, when I can?  I think so.  Caring matters.  If one doesn’t care, if things don’t matter, what’s the point?

So back to the story.

So, lid open, one of the two ants trapped inside started perambulating around in a bit of a frenzy.  One got outside the box and disappeared.  The other was just doing laps inside. 

I see all manner of containers, but everything is plastic or styrofoam — death to insects put inside because they are saturated with things like pesticides or made using formaldehyde. (Nice to think that our food comes in these things, right?) Quickly, I grab the clean, empty, glass peanut butter jar, wondering where the “outside” ant went off to, and how I would be able to find her to get her safely inside the jar for the return trip home tomorrow.  Ah!  There she is!  I manage to get her to walk inside the jar.  Now for the other one.  She’s not so easy, but, with the help of a piece of paper towel, she’s induced to take a ride inside safety.

Screen lid anchored in place, and they are ready to roll, no longer “lost ants,” but simply on an adventure and ready for the return trip home.

I used my power to help. 

BELATED ANT UPDATE:

Yes, they made it safely back to their ant homes.  Hubs was very conscientious about getting them back to exactly where he ate lunch the day before.  And he watched them as they made tracks out of the jar and onto “familiar ground.”  They immediately ran into more ants, did the “feeler thing,” as he called it, then made tracks, following other ants headed to a “known ant home.” 

I really like the construction crew.  They are very conscientious.  All of them.  And that’s as it should be since the two owners, Hubs and partner, are both eco-minded.  If the crew wasn’t, I guess they wouldn’t be crew very long, right?

Oh, and, I failed to mention, I put a bit of water on aforementioned paper towel the morning of transport back home, and both ants made quite an elaborate show of drinking.  Those were some thirsty ants.  They must have snacked on some of hubby’s favorite Triscuits! 

No Power…and Suddenly Everyone….

Posted on by D. L. Keur

Out of the blue…quite literally…sunshine and clear skies turned swiftly and suddenly to broiling storm.  The squall line was a visible chaos, and the wind hit in gusts that were stronger than ones I remember ever experiencing during North Idaho’s summer season. 

Trees bent double — big trees.  Branches snapped.  But, around me, anyway, the giants — some of them over a century old, stayed rooted and whole.  Not so lucky the ones used forest surrounding them stood as solitary lone remnants of woods that had been.  Lacking the protective buffering that trees in a group provide for one anther, they went down.  And they took the power with them.

For four and a half hours, no-one in North Idaho had power.  (Some on Pack River still don’t, I understand.)  Street lights were off, the hospital and banks’ emergency generators kicked in, and we all waited…until well after dark.

My mother lives outside of town.  She’s 84 years young and spry as a teen.  Feisty too.  But she lives in forest — big trees.  I went out to check on her since she wasn’t answering her phone.  To do that, I had to negotiate town, and Sandpoint is NOTORIOUS for asshole drivers.

To my amazement, everyone, and I mean even the teenage, testosterone-driven, souped up 4×4 truck-driving ones, were courteous and polite, each waiting their turn, and even letting others go first when it was clearly their turn at the intersection with its dusty, faded, very cobbled together four-way stop signs nailed to barrels.  (Somebody was quick thinking make them and to set them out that fast — congrats all you public works employees.)

Not only that, but no traffic snarls.  Traffic ran smoothly, without long delays.  Wonderful for a town and county infamous for GRID LOCK.

It just goes to show, when things get nasty, people get nice. Thank you, everyone.  Now, that’s American!

Lacking Life…and Eyes.

Posted on by D. L. Keur

I’m tired of caring when nobody else does.  I’m tired of working while others sit on their leisure asses complaining they don’t have any time for themselves.  I’m tired of being responsible.  I’m tired.  Time to regroup, think, contemplate.

My sight is acting up again, too.  Time to get away from the computer except for necessary and desired.

My Safety, My Cat’s Life.

Posted on by D. L. Keur

There is a leash law in Bonner County, Idaho.  I believe there is also a separate leash law doubling Bonner County’s in both Sandpoint and Ponderay.  Despite this, people blatantly let their dogs off leash, especially while walking them up and down the residential streets and alleys.  While many of these dogs are pleasant, wonderful, well-socialized animals, many are not.  Many are, in fact, dangerous to both humans and pets. 

Aggressive dogs like Pitbulls, Pitbull crosses, and Rottweilers bite me without provocation.  (German shepherds don’t for some reason.) I believe this behavior from natively aggressive dogs is because they dislike that I am what is classified as an alpha personality, even though I take care not to look them in the eye, not to approach them, not to acknowledge them.  Regardless of the fact I am an alpha personality, I shouldn’t have to be in fear of being bitten, or, worse, dying, as a result of a dog attack.  And I shouldn’t have to fear that my cat will wind up dead in the jaws of these dogs either. 

Dog owners — pet owners in general — have an obligation and a responsibility to maintain complete control of their animals.  They do not have a right to perpetrate fear or danger to other people and their pets.  Yet there is this consistent disregard, flagrant disregard, in fact, for the safety and comfort of others.

When asked to leash their dogs, and even when their dogs threaten a person or their pet right before their eyes, these owners scoff, ridicule, or shrug.  “Too bad, so sad.”  Okay.  So when you have lost your house, your boat, your cars, your bank account because your dog attacked me without provocation in my own back yard or on the street, “Too bad, so sad,” right?

If your dog is aggressive, for everybody’s sake, LEASH IT. And keep it well under control at all times.  Muzzle your dog when out in public if it is a biter or dangerous to other’s pets.  Neither I nor my pets want to suffer the consequences of your flagrant disregard for the law, nor your blatant disregard for the health, welfare, and safety of others and those creatures precious to them…or any creature for that matter, never mind the sanctity of one’s property.  (My plants, tires, fence posts, car paint, do not need digging, scratching, the application of dog urine, or paw prints.)

And while we’re on the subject, do NOT point your dog onto my grass, purposely urging it to take a dump on my lawn — this to the young woman who owns the bloodhound.