I think I'll skip it. I haven't been able to enjoy the ocean since the first Jaws movie and really don't need any encouragement to develop yet another phobia.
At this point, however, I am ready to believe anything can fall from the sky around here.
After years and years of dangerous drought, we are getting rain like I have never seen in my lifetime. Really, that's not just my typical brand of blog hyperbole. According to the news, we haven't had this much rain in the area since 1929.
It's not only raining cats and dogs,
it's apparently raining turtles.
Just in case you think that's a rushing stream there, think again. That's my front walk he's trying to ford. You know it's bad when water critters start evacuating,
I stood up on the porch with the shiny red Kodak as he turtle-paddled down the walk, much faster than I have ever been led to believe, by the way.
Then, he turned and headed across a patch of grass.
Right toward the dry haven of my open garage.
That was the point where I started making the little screeching noises. They traveled all the way upstairs to the office of a smarty pants with lotsa hair who utterly refused to pick up a stick and poke him in the other direction.
According to him, Turtlenado did not qualify as a vicious sea creature. He rambled on...something about the shell and that it didn't want to hurt anybody...while I marveled at the wonder hubby who could stand thirty yards away and do both a bone density test and a psychological profile of a vicious sea monster.
I wasn't having it.
The last time I checked, heart attacks classify as harmful, and if I open my back door and find a soft shelled surprise waiting on the back stoop, I'm going to have one. Period. I was about to clang him away with a couple of pot lids when he turned of his own volition and headed across the drive toward the neighbor. Thank God.
And that, I hope, was the last I'll see of the turtlenado.
It's not, however, the end of the story. The story ends with a related warning about waterlogged evacuees invading the southeast. You see, the sea monster may indeed have been harmless, but other jaws are not.
Do you see this precious pup?
This is Beamer, the beloved beagle of Lt. McNephew and the Newlywed Niece. Do you see the marks on his face? Those are fang marks from an attack of a diamondback rattler. And do you know where the attack occurred? Right outside their own back stoop under their carport. The snake was lurking under her car.
Under her car. (I thought I would repeat that in case you missed it.)
I'm grateful to report that they were home when it happened. They saved little Beamer and sent his attacker out with a bang.
Waterlogged southerners, please beware.
Can I add another urgent prayer request as well?One of my very favorite blog friends, Sharon at Sharon Sharing God has been evacuated from her home because of a raging fire. Please join me in praying not only that her home will somehow be spared, but also for those fighting the blaze and Sharon's heart as she waits in prayer for news.