My Life as a Baboon Whisperer

Today’s post comes to us from Jacque.

Over the weekend I found a new website which I like, ozy.com. It has a variety of news and special interest stories.  I was browsing through it when I came upon this irresistible article, “My Life as a Baboon Whisperer.”    Apparently in South Africa alpha baboons have become a local menace, kind of like the bears in Northern Minnesota. The alpha males are raiding local garbage cans as a food source.

In 2009 a South African city decided to start exterminating the baboons doing the raiding. The article is written by the person who started Baboon Matters. Baboon Matters is an organization which tries behavioral alternatives to shooting the offending animals.   The organization discovered the following:  “so-called ‘raiding baboons’ are almost always alpha males, and killing them creates a vacuum in the troop hierarchy that results in chaos.”

When I read the quote, the first thought flitting through my mind was, “This sounds a lot like politics in the USA at present.” The second thought was, “It is so nice to know Baboons Matter!”

Here is the link to the article:

http://www.ozy.com/true-story/my-life-as-a-baboon-whisperer/79380

After reading this so many questions that might fit at the end of this post went through my head:

What kind of whisperer do I want to be? How does this situation serve as a metaphor for American politics right now?  Who will save us?

What question would you pose for others after reading this?

Your Mortal Remains

Today’s post comes from Reneeinnd

A friend of mine has the sad task this week of spreading the remaining half of her sister in law’s ashes in the ND Badlands. Her sister in law died of complications of West Nile Virus.  It is truly tragic, and my post, although it contains some levity, isn’t meant to diminish her life.  Sometimes humor is the only remedy for grief.

I say the remaining ashes, as half of the ashes have already been spread in a lake near where the woman grew up in eastern ND. I guess she loved both places. Given how windy it is here, it might have worked just as well to stand at the Montana border on a windy day and let them sail east with the prevailing gale. They would have reached the eastern part of the state eventually.

My friend is quite familiar with the odd and strange when it comes to funerals.   She works with developmentally disabled individuals and has coordinated the funerals of several of elderly clients lately, people with no family able or willing to help out.  Last month she stopped an interment in mid descent and insisted that the funeral director turn the casket around so that the client was facing east, which is how Catholic remains are supposed to face around here.  Her client may have out of step during life, but my friend wanted to make sure the individual was facing the right direction for the Second Coming.

When I look out of the kitchen window I see three urns that contain the remains of our dog and two cats. I have been thinking about downsizing when I retire and we eventually move, and I wonder if we will take the pet ashes with us or do something else with them. I really can’t see moving them with the rest of the household, so I suppose we will commemorate the furry ones in some fashion and empty the urns in some beautiful place. Then, I wonder, what do we do with the used urns? We could keep them for future pet ashes I suppose, although I think there is something kind of morbid about people who keep and recycle pet urns.

I believe the Catholic Church has decreed that cremation is fine, but you have to keep your ashes in one place and not spread them around.  I’m not Catholic, but I want to be cremated and kept in one container and buried somewhere yet to be determined.  I want tangible proof that I existed. Husband hasn’t decided what he wants. I remember the very funny tale of a Baboon dealing with her parents’ ashes by mixing them up in a paper bag so they could spend eternity together. I think that would be a little much for our children to handle, so Husband and I need to come up with a unified plan. I suppose we could just use the vacant pet urns and save a bundle at the funeral home.

What are your plans for your mortal remains?

The Allotment

Me: Come over and put your head in here so I can take a picture.
YA: No.
Me: Come on.  Please.
YA: No.
Me: Why not?
YA: You’ve used up your allotment of silly pictures.
Me: But I only took one at the zoo.
YA: That was your allotment.

So what’s my take-away from this? That my child used the word “allotment” correctly!

What was your last surprise?

Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries

Today’s post comes to us from Jacque.

 I love cherries.  A bowl of cherries just sends me over the edge of contentment into pure joy.    However, seldom in life have I found life to be consistently as good as the dear old axiomatic bowl of cherries.  It is especially not as good as the cherry pie made from cherries ala Door County, Wisconsin (sour pie cherries).

Now I am the pleased owner of a sour pie cherry tree.  For many years on holidays like Mother’s Day or birthdays, I have been getting trees and plants for the garden or yard.  There are not many physical belongings I want or need.  So I ask for trees and plants.  They contribute oxygen to the atmosphere and produce for my table.  And every time we plant one of those it is less grass to mow and tend.

The cherry tree was a Mother’s Day gift two years ago.   This year it produced a bowl of cherries, after producing nary a cherry last summer.  And then I produced a cherry pie. It is delicious.  There are two pieces left as of the writing of this post.  By the time you read this, it will be gone.

Recently, when I passed a major professional certification process, my colleague brought me a red Wiegala bush as a congratulations gesture.    The “therapy certification bush” now stands proudly in the front lawn, reminding me that I did this thing.  It makes me smile.

What do you like to get as a gift?

Waiting for Rain

We are in a severe drought here. All fireworks are banned, no one can grill using charcoal, and all open fires are prohibited. The city fire works display has been cancelled.  Our town usually resounds with the sound of  fireworks the week before and just after July 4. It is always illegal to shoot off fireworks in town, but the police rarely enforce it.  This year we were told the local constabulary would be “heavy handed” in enforcing the fireworks ban.  No one wants their house or neighborhood to go up in flames, and people are being very careful.

Ranchers are selling their cattle, CPR land has been opened up for emergency grazing, and farmers are pretty depressed. It is really too late for anything but the pastures to recover if we would get some rain.  It isn’t promising.  The high temperatures are predicted to be around 100 this week.  We have sufficient water to keep the gardens going, thanks to an upgraded city water system and the Missouri River.  I scowl, though, when I see people watering lawns, especially when they are watering in high winds and more water goes in the air than on the lawn.

The governor has declared our county and several others to be disaster areas.  This is a slow, painful disaster that will take a long time to see a recovery.  We need a good long stretch of several days of rain, and that never happens out here.

How have you coped with disasters?

Sucker for Stamps

As always, the folks at the post office always see me coming. There were Star Trek stamps this week and when I got a little too excited about it, the clerk said “oh wait, we just got a new stamp today that you’ll like.” Eclipse stamps! How could I resist?

What would YOU like on a postage stamp?