Friday, September 6, 2013

Attack of the Killer Squirrel

It started innocently enough.

Larry was suffering from a touch of "cabin fever" after being in for so long following his momentous surgery last week. After dinner, I suggested we go up the road to the Livingston Farmers Market to get out of the house and into the fresh air for awhile. The market is from 4pm to 8pm each Thursday, and my neighbor/friend Phyllis Geary had never been, so we picked her up and off we went.

We arrived about 7:20. The sun was sinking behind the trees and there were still plenty of people there. A wonderful little band was playing, children were running around, and folks were gathered in the wine garden under a canopy of trees to visit and sip on the day's selections from Colony Wine Market. Scott Jackson poured us all a glass of La Vieille Ferme and off we went to see all the goodies the merchants had to offer.

Sauntering along the row of tents, it was as much about seeing friends and soaking in the atmosphere as it was looking at the items each merchant had for sale. Phyllis bought some fresh tomatoes. I bought a jar of apple butter. Larry was just happy to be on his feet. Just a nice, relaxing evening...sipping on wine and enjoying the ambiance of the market....

And then, it happened. Out of nowhere (actually from directly above my head), something fell from the tree and square into my face. Something big. Something that hit me with enough force to scratch my chin, bust my lip, and cause me to start bleeding profusely. Something that almost knocked me off my feet. Something that made me Spill. My. Wine.

My first thought was that it was a really big pine cone horse apple or maybe even a branch. (I have been following the facebook posts by the mom of Tripp Halstead, a little boy who was playing on the playground at preschool when a large branch fell on his head, leaving him badly brain damaged.) I'm fully aware that things like that can happen.

Before I could fully process what happened, a crowd of people gathered around me. I could see the horrified look in their eyes as they saw my bloodied face. That's when people started telling me what fell on my head.

Yep. That's right. It was a squirrel. Several folks saw it scamper away on the ground after it dive-bombed my head.

But it was no ordinary squirrel.

It was a killer squirrel. With killer instincts. Out to kill me. I'm convinced.

And just as crazy was the way people wanted to take care of me. Someone handed me a napkin to put on my chin, which was really bleeding badly. Someone else took the napkin from my hand, and poured what little I had left of my wine on it to "disinfect" my chin. Then a wonderful lady told me to come to her booth, because she wanted to put some clay on my chin.

But it wasn't any ol' was Mississippi Miracle Clay. According to their website,

No one is sure of the exact mechanism through which this clay acts but many people contribute the healing qualities of the clay to the fact the clay is formed out of negatively charged molecules. Viruses, inflammation, pollution and bad bacteria in your body are positively charged and the clay acts as a powerful magnet to attract the positively charge molecules and then absorbs and removes them from the body. In addition the clay replenishes the system with minerals such as silicon, magnesium, sulfur and other important trace minerals.

All I know is that the "clay lady" smeared some of the clay on my chin and it stopped bleeding and stopped hurting. I even put some inside my busted lip and the pain went away. And you guessed it, I bought some!

So, let's recap...I'm standing in front of one of the tents at the market when a killer squirrel swooped down and crashed into my face. A woman comes out of no where and smears clay on my chin and I stop hurting. What are the odds?

All I can say is that if a killer squirrel had to crash my head, I'm glad it happened in Mississippi, because what other state has miracle clay???

The rest of the time we were at the market, I had a big glob of clay on my chin and lip...

The funny thing was that everyone at the market told me "that stuff really works," and they proceeded to tell me their own stories of healing by using the miracle clay. I started feeling better. 

I went to bed last night with a bit of a headache (that squirrel hit me HARD!), my face covered in clay. This morning, I have to say, the wicked squirrel scratch was much smaller and the pain is pretty much gone. 

Roxie spends her mornings sitting on the loveseat in the keeping room, staring out the window for movement in the trees. When she sees something, she goes crazy, wanting to go outside and try to capture the offending squirrel. She's never caught one, and I'm not sure what she would do with it if she did. The squirrels seem to take great pleasure in taunting her, running along the top of the fence outside of her reach. I guess I'm going to have to school her on the very real danger that killer squirrels pose in our society. 

The moral of this story is to be aware of your surroundings at all times. And remember...

Blessings to all who read this!


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