I was outside minding my own business and installing a bathroom exhaust fan vent in the soffit when I was viciously attacked…again.
I went to put down a little silicone around the window trim when Big Momma came screaming out of the flowers at my face from about four inches away. By the way I yelled “SHIT!” and jumped back anyone watching would’ve thought there was a rattlesnake, at least.
After telling Cooper to stop being a weenie (I was trying to pass the buck) because, “it was only a little house finch”, I went in for inspection.
Big Momma watched me and Cooper from the telephone wire close by while I counted the eggs. I replaced the foliage just the way I had found it and moved along to my next project but I can’t wait to show Lil’ Man! It’ll be fun to check in on them daily to see when they hatch and how they grow.
Also, what a good protector Big Momma is! I was literally above her nest using a drill and saw for about twenty minutes and she didn’t abandon her eggs. Sawdust was even floating down around them. I guess my ugly mug from inches away was the breaking point for her!
Maybe I’ll write up a proper trail review another time but I need to get to this mission debrief. It had been miles. Mud was spilled. We fought bravely against the elements and came out on top this time so I guess you could say we were lucky. No. Fuck luck. We had skill on our side and some times that is all you need to get the upper hand. That and good engineers who ate Wheaties for breakfast the day they designed our vehicles and/or aftermarket upgrades.
There we were, me and 4Runner with Buddy and Jeep checking out some previously unexplored forest “roads” on a fine Friday afternoon. We were in the home stretch and there was a medium sized limb in the middle of my path that I figured the Jeep couldn’t make it past (I kid, I kid) so I stopped to swiftly ninja kick the shit outta it when I saw it. I can guarantee he saw me coming and if it weren’t for a keen eye I may have squished his ass on accident.
Operation Slowpoke: Trail Edition went into action without hesitation. Honestly, I wish I could’ve seen the fluidity of the cartwheel I executed while snatching his/her (Billy Box Turtle/Bonnie Box Turtle) ass up out the leaves. After a reassuring stroke of the head and a kiss for good luck I placed Billy/Bonnie up the bank in the direction he/she was headed.
Crisis was averted. Lives were saved. Branches were ninja-fucking-blasted out of the way. We drove home kings of the forest and sacrificed lambs to the engineering gods that bestowed their favor upon us.
Don’t be fooled, I am not the zombie kid all grown up.
While he and I share a love for our turtle friends, I am not nearly as youthful as that guy and he will probably grow up to be better looking than I am.
I can’t explain what it is about our fine reptilian friends that melts my heart (maybe I just like the underdogs?) but I will be damned if a bro gets smooshed on my watch. Over the years I have risked life and limb to hook many a potential ninja up with making it to the other side of the road.
The latest installment of Operation Slowpoke happened this morning when I was taking my son to school. Halfway there I had to stop mid sentence (we were having a great discussion about deer and why we can’t pass cars on a road with double yellow lines) as a couple hundred yards ahead I spotted an all-too-familiar lump with legs trying his/her best to be Usain Bolt, man. There was positively no place to safely stop and help so I sent positive vibes out to the ether in hopes that this one was able to make it safely across the road. Pre-kid days I would’ve pulled off in a safe manner to get the job done but you can’t be risking your kid’s well being, you know? No driveways or berms on this particular road.
Anyhow, after dropping Lil’ Man off at school I retraced my route with high hopes that there wouldn’t be a greasy smear where Raphael once stood. To my surprise, He was in the same damn spot where I passed him twenty minutes prior with his shit all tucked in and, honestly, I presume he was sending up some frantic prayers to the giant Turtle in the sky. About 200 yards past him I was able to pull off in a driveway and I hoofed it back to where he was rooted.
As per usual, my method is to deposit my new acquaintance about four feet past the edge of the road in the direction that he/she is headed. Ain’t nothin’ finer than looking ’em in the eye and having that connection where you realize they now owe you one and will eat all of the spiders that haunt your nightmares.