When I'm feeling restless or panicky (which is, um, a lot of the time), I like to squeeze little things. In my ongoing attempt to promote the program I am in charge of, I've procured many "spirit" items. The latest are these little stress gel-e stars emblazoned with the name of the program. I insisted on the stars. If we're ordering spirit items and I'm managing the budget, we're getting spirit items I like and can use. Thus, the gel-e stars.
We've got tote bags on order!
Anyway, I don't squeeze the cone. It shares space on my winged computer monitor platform with the gel-e star, though.
So this weekend, I wanted to get my cone a companion cone or two. I knew Honey wouldn't take a cone, so I figured I could take two. When we were done at Sentinel, I went back toward the car while Honey took and "insurance trip" to the bathroom. I found two cones I liked and put them in the car.
When Honey got back from the bathroom, she told me that a guy was carrying around a big cone and that the ranger-woman had told him that it was against Federal Law to remove cones from our National Park. Apparently dude had a really big cone. Why one would take a big cone from Sequoia is beyond me. There are lots of pine trees in California. You can get cones in lots of places. He probably hadn't bothered to go into the visitor center to find out the sequoia cones were wee.
I didn't put my new cones back. They now sit on my desk with ur-cone and make a nice little family. The gel-e star is a little jealous.
When we were driving into the park, Honey asked me if I knew why "tunnel rock" was called "tunnel rock." I immediately said, "because it's shaped like a tunnel." She told me that I was wrong.
"It's named after General Tunnel who led his valiant troops into battle during the Revolution. The American Revolution. Sequoia was the westernmost theater of battle."
She spun the story out more and I have to admit the idea of tri-cornered hatted guys fighting in the Sierra Nevada made me laugh.
When I was a teenager, I thought of myself as quite a rebel. I now know that that perception was simply off. I try to do the right thing. I try to follow the rules. I even thank officers of the law for giving me tickets. Honey, despite her neck nubbins and rebellious haircut, is a rule-follower, too.
Herewith some lessons:
Some rangers tell the truth. Some lie. Believe the ones you want to believe.
My Honey makes up stories that are better than the facts I know.
Wearing funky clothes at 16 does not a rebel make at 38.
Three cones on the desk look better than one.
Thus endeth the lesson.
Please feel free to share your recent life lessons in the comment zone!
9 comments:
I too have a fondness for "little" things. I think part of it for me is creating the impression of neatness lol
I'm still nervous about having rolled my bicycle right past the "no bicycles" sign posted outside your building, even though you said it was OK. Breakin' the law, breakin' the law. Bum bum!
See, the key thing there, is that it's MY building. Who's going to tell me what to do? Hmm?
Here are some of my recent lessons:
Middle age women have a difficult time catching a screaming football thrown by a 17 year old.
Three dogs are more difficult than two.
You can live without air conditioning but you don't want to.
There's not a whole lot of time to do something when you've spent most of your time doing nothing.
and...glad you got cone siblings. Cones don't like being alone.
~Elizabeth (using Maxine's laptop because the 17 year old is on the other 'puter and I'm way too lazy to close out of her thingy-ma-dealy and log into mine. I don't like waiting for the microwave either.)
Lesson: Proof my proof. And then proof again.
Lesson: Crossing the street at the corner, in the cross-walk, with the light is a growing cause for concern.
Lessons:
One should wear long sleeves when ridding the fence of poison ivy.
One should wear jeans when running a weedwhacker. (One used to know this; how could one be so stupid?).
One should make sure the gate is latched when one's dogs are roaming in the back yard.
One should realize earlier that sometimes a trip to Home Depot, for just the right nut for a renegade bolt, is necessary.
One should celebrate that smaller mamaries equates to the ability to work in the yard without a bra. ;p
Mammaries should NOT be contained regardless of size unless one wants them to have them contained. Let 'em bounce, if bouncy they be.
Sounds painful for the better-endowed!
Seeing the potential for being seen as a breeder reprobate/neanderthal, I will not comment on the imprisonment (or obversely, freedom) of mammaries, regardless of my preference for the latter.
My whole existence has yielded life lesson after life lesson, most of which are so mundane as to resist recapitulation--gee, telling someone you love them after the 3rd date isn't the way to go? (Not my action, btw.)--lest I bore even more of your audience!
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