Skunk Lessons #101

Word to the wise: Be sure to teach your children what to do if your dog gets sprayed by a skunk.

We assumed that dealing with the fallout of coming out on the wrong end of a skunk was common knowledge, but found out the hard way we were wrong.

Last Tuesday night these two knuckleheads went running with two friends at midnight.

Keith and I approve of exercise and fresh air but don't endorse the running at midnight thing.

Kiah and her friend K ran faster than Christina and her friend A so Kiah took this fellow with her.

Thinking it was late (duh!) and since no one was out, they let Tucker off his leash, where he must have had a close encounter of the smelly kind.

Now this is the part that suspends belief.

Kiah and K got tired of waiting for Christina so decided to go back to K's house. Not recognizing the skunk smell for what it was (?????) Kiah put Tucker in her car and then took him inside K's house.

Kiah and K finally became concerned about the smell but thought it was a gas leak. They called the non-emergency 911 number but were told it wasn't a gas leak. Kiah brought Tucker home, still not realizing he'd been sprayed by a skunk.

In her defense, she was leaving the next day for a week in Colorado so her mind and nose were elsewhere. While Kiah packed for her trip, she let Tucker run around downstairs. Sigh!

Christina got home an hour later, took one whiff, and instantly identified the offending odor. She asked Kiah why she hadn't washed him and Kiah said she was going to leave him until morning and let Mom and Dad take care of it.

Excuse me!?!?!?!?

Christina coaxed Tucker into the tub but he hates baths and didn't cooperate. She first tried shampoo. When that didn't work, she found a recipe online to get rid of skunk odor so put the now freaked out dog back in the tub. Took both girls quite a while to push/pull/yell/cajole Tucker back into the torture chamber.

When the second treatment did the trick, Kiah decided to inform us about the fiasco. Keith and I were peacefully sleeping upstairs, blissfully unaware of the situation, when Kiah opened our door and let a waft of skunk smell into our bedroom. We were in a deep sleep so had a hard time waking up. We looked at each other wondering if we'd heard correctly. The clock read 2:00 am. Now folks, such things ought not to be.

Keith and I got up but Tucker had already had his bath. We grumped at the girls and then went back to bed but couldn't get to sleep so tossed and turned for three hours, all the while smelling the disturbing odor.

Christina washed the towels they'd used in Tucker's bath and her skunkified clothing. The first wash didn't get rid of the smell and they sat wet in the washer over night with the lid closed. Pew!!! Took a few washings with vinegar to get the job done. Then had to run an empty load with bleach to de-scent the washer.

All the coats that hung in the laundry room stank.

Someone put Tucker's stinky collar in the garage so, yep, you guessed it, the garage smelled too.

Tucker was a skittish mess the next day, slinking around, being clingy, and jumping at his own shadow.

When Kiah's friend K went to work the next day, someone called the janitor into her room because they couldn't figure out where the odd smell was coming from.

We've nicknamed Kiah's car, "The Skunkmobile" as it still reeks. Christina sprayed vinegar in there to absorb the odor so now the car smells like skunk, vinegar, and spoiled mayonaise.

In one fell swoop, the skunk via Tucker via Kiah stunk up one car, two houses, a garage, two loads of laundry, and a classroom. Talk about the ripple effect.

If ever there was a time to use the Scandinavian all purpose word, "Uffda," now was the time.

The smell is gradually subsiding and hopefully lessons were learned all the way around. (right girls?)
 

I'm linking up with Rachel at Once Upon a Miracle for True Story Tuesday. She is one funny lady so be sure to check her out.

P.S. - For future reference, here's the DeSkunkifier Recipe
1 qt. of 3% Hydrogen Peroxide
¼ to ½ cups Baking Soda
1 – 2 tsp. dish soap. (Don't store this in a closed container since the mixture creates pressure and could burst.) If the bleaching effect hydrogen peroxide could have on your dog’s coat is a concern, try substituting vinegar for the peroxide.

The Little Red Rooster

Once upon a time there was a Little Red Rooster who loved to plant things but he had a postage stamp size yard and no room for a garden. 

He bought two seedlings and asked, "Who will help me plant these tomato plants?" 

"Not I." said his hen who did not want tomatoes growing on the front porch.
"Not I," said his oldest chick who hasn't planted anything in years.
"Not I," said his two youngest chicks who were too busy playing to help.

"Then I will plant them myself," said the Little Red Rooster.
And he did.

He waited until his hen went to Oregon to visit her mother and then planted tomatoes in two pots on the front porch.

"Who will help me water these tomato plants?" He asked.

"Not I," said his hen, who eyed the growing plants with resentment. 
"Not I," said the oldest chick who worked seven days a week and was rarely home.
"Not I," said the two youngest chicks who were too busy swimming to help.

"Then I will water the plants by myself."
And he did.

These plants were his pride and joy. He lovingly watered and fertilized them and daily checked on his growing tomatoes, while visions of BLTs danced in his head. 

He panicked when his friend's tomatoes ripened and his didn't. He asked for advice and learned tomatoes need at least 50 degree weather at night to ripen. Northern Wisconsin gets colder than that at night. What to do? What to do?

"Who will help me cover the tomato plants at night?" the Little Red Rooster asked.

"Not I," said his hen, who figured when all was said and done, it was cheaper to buy store tomatoes.

"Not I," said his oldest chick who had started a new job and wasn't home much.

"Not I," said his two youngest chicks who were too busy with school work to help.

"Then I will handle this myself," he said.

And he did.

He waited until his hen was gone and brought the tomatoes plants into the kitchen. If she didn't want the plants on the front porch, she for sure didn't want them in the kitchen!!! He claimed he didn't notice the smell. He growled at his cats who tried to knock the finally ripening tomatoes off the plant. 

He waited again until his hen was gone (do you notice a pattern here?) as she had not been one bit supportive of his endeavor. And he picked the biggest tomato, fried bacon, made a BLT and ate it ALL BY HIMSELF.

The End.

(Coming soon, "Peppers on the Porch," the exciting sequel to "The Little Red Rooster)

The Little Mermen

Once upon some friends came to visit the Viks. Old friends like they've known each other a long time. Good friends like the kids played together in the sandbox when they were little. The Viks took the friends to the beach and the kids swam awhile before declaring the water too cold to swim in.

What to do? What to do?

So even though most of them were teenagers,
they reverted to the default -- playing in the sand.

They decided to bury someone in sand.

One thing led to another and before

they knew it, they had a muscular merman.

The second merman said to Amy,
"Give me big muscles too."
To which Amy replied,
"No way, I'm not giving you big muscles.
I'm gonna make you skinny."

Ta-dah!!

The second merman had trouble extracting himself.

Everyone knows the best way to
rinse sand off is to jump out of a tree.

And a good time was had by all.

The End

Delayed Reaction

A friend asked the other day what emotions I have about Erica graduating.

At the time I was one quarter ways down the first page of a two page to-do list.

I said, none at the moment. My emotions are usually delayed because I focus on what needs done at the time so don't have time to deal with them. Usually two weeks later it all hits me.

But the question stayed with me. After chewing on it a bit, I feel:

1. Relief I'm no longer responsible for her education. She was not a good student. She's a smart kid but didn't like school.

2. Thankful for her good qualities - she's sensitive, friendly, open, witty, affectionate, has a fun sense of humor, is good with kids, words, and photography.

3. Not Thankful for her bad qualities.

4. Sentimental - I look back over her life and remember her as a sweet little girl. It's fun to see her grow up and watch her personality develop. Lots of good memories.

5. Regret - Wishing I had done or not done certain things. Wishing I had loved her better and been a better Mom. Hoping I haven't put any stumbling blocks in her path. Wanting to do the right thing, but not sure I did.

6. Proud - On her good days, she's a great kid. I mean, who else would take a graduation picture on top of her family's 1993 eight seater Ford passenger van?

7. Frustrated that the end product is out of my control. No matter how good a job I did or didn't do, she has a part in the outcome. Even if I always said or did the right thing, she has a choice. I can lead her to spiritual and educational water but I can't make her drink.

When I do a scrapbook page, or write something, or work on a slide show or paint a room and if I take my time and do it right, it should turn out. But kids aren't like that. It's not a given that with the right ingredients the recipe always works.

8. Worry/Fear - As Cat Stevens used to sing, "It's a wild world." There's a lot of bad things in the world and I wish I could keep her from all of it. I don't want her to fall into any holes. I don't want her to fall away.

9. Hope - I hope she'll be okay and that she's prepared for the future. That she'll choose a life of faith, want good things, and be a stable, steady, responsible law-abiding adult. That she'll walk in the truth and value the things of God. That she'll stay connected to family. That she'll stay pure and marry a Christian man, have good friends, be a good mother, bless others, and have a good life.

10. Trust - I know God loves her more than I do. He understands her and has a plan for her life. He knows the beginning from the end. He knows her name and has promised to give her a hope and a future. He is her shelter, hope, deliverer, helper, counselor, teacher, comforter, light, and guide. I can trust God with my daughter's life.

So while it's nice seeing my children grow up, it's happy/sad/scary/thrilling/enjoyable/not much fun all at the time.

Someone else asked how I feel about my son getting married, but that's a post for another day.

~Only fear the Lord and serve Him in truth with all your heart; for consider what great things He has done for you.~ --I Samuel 12:24--

A Cautionary Tale

Since I'm celebrating my One-Year Blogoversary this week, just for fun I'm reposting my first post. Click here to enter my Blogoversary giveaway. I'll draw a name on Sunday, March 21.

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Falling in love is risky business, the least of which is hoping you’ll like your new last name, should you get married. Twenty-five years ago I traded the perfectly normal, easy-to-spell, easy-to-pronounce "Taylor" for the tricky name of "Vik."

What’s tricky about Vik, you ask? It’s frequently misspelled "Vic" or "Vick." Add an "s and it sounds like a cough drop. The phonetically challenged say "Vike." People often call me Vicky, and no, we’re not related to Michael Vick.

We couldn’t name our son Nicholas or Richard because Nick and Rick rhyme with Vik. So does hick. But it could have been worse. Vik was shortened from an even trickier name. And therein lies my tale.

On May 11, 1912 Grandpa Vik left Norway at the tender age of twenty and sailed from Liverpool, England on the H.M.S. Mauritania with twenty dollars in his pocket. Family legend says Grandpa Vik was scheduled to sail on the Titanic but sold his ticket and traveled one month later.

At Ellis Island, he changed his name from "Johannes Vorpvik" to "John Vik." And Viks ever since have been thankful.

With all due respect to Norwegians, "Vorpvik," was outside the realm of my experience. I grew up in Northern California with Italians, Japanese, and Mexicans and thought last names like "Franceschi," "Taniguchi," and "Hernandez" were normal.

Grandpa settled in Irene, South Dakota and persuaded a young widow to trade her perfectly normal, easy-to-spell, easy-to pronounce name of "Johnson" for "Vik." But Marie, aware of his history, knew she had dodged a bullet and welcomed the shortened version.

If Grandpa Vik hadn’t come to America, or had sailed on the Titanic, or hadn’t changed his name, there wouldn’t have been a Keith Vik for me to marry and I might have ended up with Gary Mukaida and had Japanese children.

So the moral of the story is to only date men whose last name you like, or have them immigrate somewhere and change it.

Construction Crew

Andrew: The girls want to make graham cracker houses.

Mom: I'd rather not. They're messy, fattening, expensive, and unhealthy. Did I mention messy?

Andrew: Rachel hasn't made one before. I'll buy the stuff. Please?

Mom: You're 22 years old.

Andrew: That's age discrimination.

Mom: Fine, but everyone has to promise to clean up.

Busy builders

Andrew & Rachel

Kiah

Lani

Andrew and Rachel's & Kiah's

Erica & Anna

Amy & Lani

Did I mention messy?

A Love Worth Waiting For

Andrew wrote this sweet story for Rachel and gave me permission to post it on our family blog.

Once upon a time there was a young man who had a problem of monumental proportions that had weighed him down. No matter where he looked there just wasn't a girl to be found for him. Sure there were beautiful girls, but none that had a certain beauty this young man was looking for. You see he had found something more amazing than anything else. This particular young man knew Jesus Christ as his Lord and Savior, which meant not just any girl would do. He needed one that loved Jesus.

It seemed that girls were just fine with giving their heart to anyone and everyone, and this wasn't something this young man was looking for. He wanted a girl that had given her heart over to Christ, a girl who knew what true love was because she had experienced it from Jesus.

But time went on and the young man started to grow discouraged, thinking maybe girls like that didn't exist anymore - girls that are completely and utterly beautiful, not just because of how they look but because of the light that shines from having a relationship with Christ.

Right about the time he was ready to give up and become the most un-eligible bachelor in America, figuring it better to spend the rest of his days alone with his Bible and Bloom County than to spend it with a superficial token girl, something amazing happened. To be sure it was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

One day at camp, the young man was assigned to watch some kids and a certain beautiful young woman ended up helping. While she was pretty the young man didn't think much about it yet, assuming she was just like every other girl he’d met. This young man was soon to be pleasantly surprised.

A month later the young man gave the girl a ride back to college and his car broke down. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise because the young woman saved the young man from having a major meltdown. They spent the day talking and walking and having a great time.

The young man was thoroughly astonished at how amazing she was. He thought she must be lying because nobody as perfect as she was could possibly exist, right? But he decided that she was worth trying to find out, and so he did.



As it turns out the girl was as beautiful and pure and amazing as she seemed to be, and as the young man continued to get to know her he realized that she had that rare beauty that comes from knowing Jesus Christ and because the light of Christ was in her, it made her beyond just beautiful. It made her radiant and by far more lovely than anyone he had ever met.

So the young man knew that this was the girl he had been waiting for, the one who was completely worth pushing all the other girls away and giving his heart to her and only her. By God's grace, he had found a love worth waiting for.

How To Make Ice Tea

I accidentally discovered a new way to make Ice Tea this week.

1. Clean out purse

2. Use tea bags that have been in purse for at least three months

3. Make ice tea like normal

4. Put tea in freezer to cool down faster

5. This step is critical so follow carefully. FORGET ABOUT IT.

6. Take out the next day and Voila -

Iced Tea in a Frosted Mug


Easy Breezy

Don't know why I didn't think of this sooner.

The Mysteries of Life

I've been contemplating life's deep inponderables:

1. Why lawn mowers cut grass but not dandelions

2. Why my family doesn't throw away empty food boxes

3. Or change the toilet paper roll

4. Why a dog who hates to take a bath, loves to fetch sticks in Lake Superior

5. Why my $26 hanging plant has never looked as nice as the day I bought it

6. Why a child has time to paint elaborate designs on her toenails but doesn't have time to clean her room.

7. How a child whose room looks like this can say with a straight face, "I did clean it."

8. Why two flower boxes planted at the same time with the same number of alternating pink and white flowers could end up like this. One thriving and mostly white, and the other skimpy with mostly pink.

Do you have any other conundrums to add to the list?

Bad Example

I try from time to time to unpack the remaining mystery boxes in our basement. I came across our battered Sorry game and remembered an incident from 1997 when Christina was 12 and Andrew was 10.

During a game of Sorry the tension kept escalating. Christina snapped at Andrew, "Don't be so immature."

"Mom, what does immature mean?" Andrew asked.

"It's when someone doesn't act their age," I replied. "Why did Christina call you that?"

"Yep."

I'd warned her earlier that afternoon not to call her brother names. "Tina, go to your room."

Christina threw the board, threw the cards, then stomped up the stairs, and slammed her door, all the while complaining about my unfairness and Andrew's annoying qualities.

Keith looked up from his newspaper and said, "It's not often you get an example with the definition."

Mother, May I?

May we let you exercise your Mother's Day perogative and allow you to take the family on a 4.6 mile hike just because it suits your fancy?


May we allow you to get directions off the internet which aren't entirely accurate and drive an twenty extra minutes because Dad won't stop for directions when we get lost?

May we bring a backpack next time? The Blue Bunny Hot/Cold bag got a little heavy after the first hour.

May we take lots of pictures with Erica's cool new camera?

May we walk ahead of you? Your short legs and middle-aged pace gives taking time to smell the roses a new meaning.

May we take a nap while we wait for you to catch up?

May we stand really near the edge at the top and make you nervous and keep you from enjoying the awesome view?

Since Wisconsin bugs love our insect repellent may we complain about all the bugs?

Back home, may we eat the ice cream cake you requested without gaining back all the weight we lost on the hike?

Mother, may I?

Yes, you may.