"Smile", by Khalina

“Smile”

It was a beautiful spring morning and a proud vixen mother had laid birth to 3 beautiful red fox kits. She was very proud. The first kits name was Niaku a beautiful female with a high elegant tail, just like her father. Then, there was a handsome male named Hashi. He was very alert and with delicate sharp eyes. The last was the smallest of the 3 and her name was smile. She was gentle, sweet, playful, adventuress, and had the most beautiful tail and ears. Vixen was overjoyed to soon hear that her best friend had also laid birth to 3 males and 2 females.

The next morning vixen brought her kits to go and visit Rosalina, Vixen’s friend. Hashi was overjoyed when he saw more foxes to play with. Niaku held her head hi to show if they played any game she would be the leader. Smile stayed out of the group of fur and examined each fox carefully. She didn’t know there where more foxes like her in the forest. Finally, Smile joined the group in playing a game of chaise his or hers tail.

Moments later, the mothers finished talking and decided to introduce each others children to each other.

“Hello. My name Rosalina and these are my 5 bundles of joy,” Remarked Rosalina. “First, are my two females, Jincho and Manashi.”

“Then there is my three males Riku, Saru, and Peko.”

Vixen replied saying “There adorable! These are mine Niaku, Hashi, and Smile.”

“There perfect, just perfect” Rosalina complimented.

Soon, they left for home. When they reached there den, Smile asked her mother, “Why didn’t you tell us there are more foxes in the forest?”

Her mother replied softly saying, “I wanted to surprise you.”

Weeks past, soon it was a month. The 3 kit’s fur was changing. Now, to a mixture of red, orange, gray, black, and white. Again, they left to go visit Rosalina again.

When they reached the den of Rosalina, the 6 of them were grooming each other. Hashi joined in and licked Manashi’s muzzle. She licked his ear. Niaku and Smile joined in. Vixen smiled sweetly and helped groom Rosalina’s kits.

Hours later, the small bundles of fur slept.

When the moon was barely showing light through the den, Smile realized that she was in Rosalina’s den. She looked from side to side reviewing her mother, brother, and sister, and made her decision that they were spending a night with their good friends. Though, Smile didn’t mind. Picking her self up, she trotted over by Peko and laid her head on his back. He twitched his ear, than was again in his small little slumber. They rested peacefully the whole night.

In the morning, they all awoke. The 2 mothers nursed there own and the other’s kits. Smile stayed by Peko, quickly becoming attached to him. Moments later, they went off to the river leaving Niaku in charge of the rest of the kits why’ll they were gone. They all wrestled with each other and playfully bit each other’s noses and ears.

About half an hour later, the two mothers returned, and again fed there kits with predigested food and a little bit of milk. Finally, the 2 mothers went to rest in the sun. They didn’t notice the giant spotted owl hiding in the tree.

When the 2 adults fell asleep the kits were again in there wrestle game. They also, didn’t spot the owl. As Hashi was scampering, the owl silently flew above him and dove for him. Vixen heard Manashi’s cry of warning and swiftly ran towards the owl. She leaped as high as she could. It was too late. Hashi was never coming back.

The foxes all whimpered small cries of sadness and loss. They also trembled in fear, thinking the owl might come back any moment. Vixen and Rosalina were extra cautious. An owl is an easy prey for an adult fox, but a young fox is easy prey for an owl. Manashi grieved the most. Hashi was her best friend always there for her and made sure she was never lonely. Too afraid to leave for her own den, Vixen spent the night at Rosalina’s den again.

The next morning, the 2 mothers again left, but told the kits to stay in the den. It was very boring inside the dark, cool den. Peko spotted a mouse and in his instincts he had to chase it. Smile joined him and they ran of towards the den entrance closer and closer towards outside. Niaku yelled something about not to go outside. Though, the 2 kits ignored her. Quickly, they were out.

It was a trap. The owl had caught a mouse placed it near the den and waited for a kit to come out. His trap worked. He flew down speedy quick and picked up Peko by his back. Peko let out a small hopeless cry only heard by the emerging kits and bewildered Smile. Realizing what had just taken place; Smile jumped up and sank her fangs into the owl’s leg. He cawed out and shook with anger, but Smile held on tight. The furious owl dropped the bleeding Peko and started pecking at Smile. She slashed at the owl’s throat and he cawed out in pain. Smile fell down about 3 feet, only to land on her mother’s back. Spotting the fallen owl Rosalina dashed towards it, shredding it from piece to piece. Smile and Peko had both started to lick each other’s wounds, to try and make the bleeding stop. Finally, it did with a little help from the others and soon they were all deep in Rosalina’s den.

The next morning, they arose and again started to groom Smile and Peko’s wounds. They were lucky too not loose another kit. After they finished grooming, the 2 mother’s started to question everyone.

“What happened!?! Why were you outside? “Both mothers asked.

“Were sorry! There was a mouse and we couldn’t help but to chase it,” Smile started to cry.

Vixen mumbled something and buried her nose in the dirt. Peko and Smile could tell she was being bothered by something. They wanted to help her. But how? Peko had an idea.

“I don’t remember clearly, but their was a screech when I made it outside and the mouse seemed to be gone, but all I could see was the owl attacking me and hear Smile’s high ringing sharp cries. Then, I all of a sudden I felt this burning pain in my back and Smile’s vicious grrrr’s. Then I think I fainted. Though, after I awoke I saw Smile falling, with the owl pushing her down faster. It was horrible, but then I saw a blurry flash of orange and I feel my ma picking me up and see Smile on Vixen’s back. I was so relieved to be alive.”

Smile ran up and hugged Peko’s back. She was so happy to have such a loyal friend, one that she could count on. Rosalina rejoiced and all of her foxy friend’s threw her in the air and cheered saying, “SMILE! SMILE!”. She was a true friend and hero.

THE END

The Turkey Who Wished It Was a Peacock

A Thanksgiving story by Khalina Shurtz

Once upon a time, there was a turkey, who lived on a farm and wanted to be a peacock. This wish he had all started out when his mother was butchered for Thanksgiving. All the other Turkeys were proud to be such a wanted animal, not even realizing how unlucky they were. Turkey and his mom were smart and they knew all about it. But soon Mama Turkey was a fine Thanksgiving Meal too.

One morning, the day before Thanksgiving, Turkey awoke. He was very nervous, afraid that he would be one of the “chosen” ones. All the other turkeys were exited and ate as much as they could to survive. Turkey was on a diet and only ate a good section of the trough, just to keep him alive and never stole from the other turkeys. He missed his Dear mother, for the last words she said to him were, “My dear beloved son, on the night of Thanksgiving, pick the brightest dandelion in the farm yard and finest red corn you can fine. Then, find many other fine organic colors and chop them with the leaves, find a friend and share the feast. If you do this you and the friend will appear suddenly out of the farm and will be peacocks. None will hurt you, for you and your friend will be much too beautiful to harm. Hurry, the farmer is coming, run; I am much too old to escape quick enough.”

Turkey thought of these words and softly cried. He missed his mom so much. Stick, the female turkey noticed how sad he looked. She walked over to him and asked him what was on his mind that bothered him, for Thanksgiving was soon and that was supposed to be a happy occasion, or so she thought. Turkey told her the story and how much he wanted to be a handsome peacock. Stick replied in a soft tone saying, “I can be the friend that goes with you.”

Turkey agreed and off they were, to get ready for tomorrow’s feast. They picked leafs of many kinds and many different types of flowers. From roses to dandelions the pile of leafs, flowers, and corn became bigger and brighter by the minute. 

The next day was Thanksgiving and the 2 turkeys were ready. Farmer came out earlier then usual and Stick and Turkey didn’t expect that to happen. He sneaked up on the 2 and picked up stick. Quickly, he scurried off. Turkey had to save his friend! How could he be a peacock with out her?!?

“Turkey! Help! Please help me, Turkey,” Stick gobbled.

Turkey sped towards Farmer and leaped on the back of his head and pulled his straw hat down. Farmer stopped and chased Turkey, not even realizing that he had just dropped Stick. He made a giant leap and landed on the dropped hat. The farmer patted off the dust on his overalls and turned back to were he left Stick, but the only thing he found was a rude waste, just for him. Farmer decided to just take an unhealthy fat turkey instead of the perfect healthy Stick. He walked off towards his farm to meet his scowling wife.

When Turkey reached Stick, she got up stuffed her head in his chest feathers.

“Thank you so much. You saved my life! I almost became a Thanksgiving dinner.”

Turkey just replied by saying your welcome and nodded his head. Finally, they decided they should be off towards the stash they had created the day before.

When they reached their stash, they first gave their Thanksgiving thanks.

“Thank you for my intelligent mother who helped me and Stick become peacocks. I also thank you for meeting Stick, to have her as such a loyal and beautiful friend.”

Flattered Stick answered saying,” I am also very thankful for Turkey’s mom and to have him for being such a kind friend and a heroic hero.”

They slowly ate the feast, munching carefully and proudly, exited to find their new future as Peacocks. As they each finished their last bite, they gave one last look at each other and smiled.

As they each swallowed the last bit of food they closed there eyes as they felt the cool wind blow past them.

Stick opened her eyes first. She gaped when she saw Turkey. He was a beautiful winter white, full of streaks of a baby blue. Turkey opened his eyes and looked at his own reflection in the water right by him. He stuttered and fell backwards, then picked himself up.

Turkey and Stick were the happiest Peacocks/turkeys in the world.

 

Christmas in 1981

[Note: Rosa wrote this up for one of her friends the other day and I thought it would be fun to share.]

I came to America from Cambodia in early January of 1981. 

Everything was so new to me, the people, the land, the homes, the cars, and so much more.

Our family didn’t have much then except for the clothes on our backs.  We came as refugees to live freely in America from our worn torn country.

So many holidays to celebrate and I had never celebrated any or knew of any at all.  I was about 7 years old.

We lived in Tacoma Washington when we first came to America.  There were 7 of us kids and the youngest brother was born in America and of course mom and dad didn’t speak any English at all then. 

That first Christmas in 1981 we received a dinky Charlie brown type Christmas tree from someone we didn’t know because our family was poor and could not afford one.  It was the most beautiful tree to me with lots of roomy branches to hang paper angels that I learned to color and cut out at school and then we hung some popcorn strung together.  There were no presents under the tree and Christmas time grew nearer and nearer.

Then about a week before Christmas a wonderful couple from Church brought us beautiful gifts for each of the family members.  There were 10 gorgeously wrapped gifts with each of our names on them.  I had one that had a beautiful bow and colorful wrapping of Santa Clause, snow falling around him.  I could hardly wait to open my present.  Everyday seemed like forever. I wanted to rip that present open but I knew I had to wait and so I did sadly.  The day came finally and it was Christmas morning.  Everyone opened their gifts and they were so happy to get all their goodies.  Finally it was my turn to open mine.  I carefully untied the bows and then un-taped each end of the nicely wrapped gift.  After I opened it up, there was a brown box. Inside it was a pair of ugly, worn torn boots that were not even my size.  Sadly I was very disappointed and cried and wondered to myself.  “Why did someone do this to me?”  I felt hurt and torn.  It isn’t April Fools Day.  I had a miserable Christmas day while the rest of the family were laughing at me.

This is the one special memory of a Christmas miracle and what Christmas is all about even if it started out sadly for me.  That evening before Christmas night ended, the same couple from Church brought another beautiful gift with my name on it “Ratana”.  It was only to me and no one else.  I opened it and I felt like a little angel.  This time I gave everyone that sad look on my face before I opened it because I wasn't ready for another surprise like the old boot from my first gift.  Inside this lovely gift box was a beautiful, furry new pair of boots.  They were dark red and fluffy and so warm.  Everyone told me they loved me and just wanted to surprise me later and that the first gift was not meant to hurt or make me cry.  I wore the boots everywhere I went.  It was to save the best for last.

I learned from that day to always give good gifts to others, the first time around, no matter what.  And that Christmas can be pretty special.

Not really a post

I know, I know.  Why bother having a blog if you're not going to post on a regular basis?  I don't know how often you get over to the photos side of our site, but I have been pushing up a few pictures over the past few months, with lots more to come.

Here's some of the highlights:

At the beginning of the summer I had grand plans to get out into the great outdoors and hike, hike, hike.  I had an itch and it needed to be scratched.  Unfortunately, I'm still itching.  But, we did get out once to Lake 22 when the sun was actually shining.  It's not too late yet and now that I'm working with the YM again perhaps I'll find an excuse to get out.

In May Ammon turned eight (wow!) and he was baptized.  It was a neat experience and it was very nice to have mom and dad with us.  During that same weekend I went with mom and dad to visit the San Juan Islands.  It was a beautiful day with beautiful scenery, and a great chance to hang out with the folks.

Ok, I'm stopping for now.  I've only just begun, but I've still got a few hundred photos to go through from the reunion in August.  Feel free to peruse the various galleries.  This is one of my favorites.

Spring Break 2007

The oregon coast was especially nice this year.  We've made it a family tradition to spend our spring break on the Oregon coast somewhere, and this year we picked Cape Lookout State Park (just outside of Tillamook).  The very first year we did this will always have a special place in my heart, but this year would be a close second.  It was wonderful.  The weather was perfect, the area was simply breathtaking, and I'm not sure there could have been anything that would have made it better.  I've posted most of the pictures here.  And, I should also note that the pictures include those from all the cameras there, not just mine.

The old way, the new way

As I get older my memories tend to get a little more embellished and selective, if that makes any sense.  I don't know if they become less accurate per se, but perhaps a little more filtered.  In other words, I remember the really good things and forget that there may have been some bad in there as well.

It's no secret that I love photography as well as taking pictures.  Yes, there is a difference.  Perhaps I'll do a future post describing my take on those differences.  And I love to look at pictures, almost more than taking them.  I get excited when other people go on vacation because I know when they get back they'll have a set of pictures - and with any luck I'll be able to sit down and look at them.

I have always loved slide shows.  Mom and dad may have different memories about me, but I remember loving when we would go to grandma's house and they would pull out the slide projector and load up each of the trays.  We'd lay down in the living room with the lights out and watch as each of the pictures went by - each with their own story and memory.  The pictures were of times past, and seeing them allowed some to re-live the times, and some just to catch a glimpse and share in them.  Dad has a bunch of slides from his mission in Scotland, and I loved to look through them.  We didn't have the full slide projector in our home, but dad had a small viewer where you could put one slide in at a time and then look at it through the light.  It was almost like being there.  When dad talked about the "Highland Coos", we knew exactly what he was talking about.  We'd seen them too through his slides.

Over the past 15 years or so I've taken a lot of pictures.  And most of them are in albums on our bookshelf.  At times I've sat down and opened them to re-live some of our own memories.  Every once in a while the kids would sit with me and laugh about something or someone in them.  I love that!  But what I craved was the ability to sit everyone down and to have an old fashioned slide show.  To get the kids in the room and douse the lights and show pictures on the wall while we talked and laughed.

So I've done it.  In the last few years I've gone completely digital, and that has allowed some latitude in my dream.  Over the past few weeks I have built a Media Center PC.  There are a lot of features on it, but the number one thing for me is I now have a way to show my photos in the family room on our TV.  Sure, it's not an ultra-big HD fancy TV, but it works and the pictures look great.

So now I get the kids together and lay back on the soft.  We douse the lights, put on some music in the background, and re-live our memories together.  And it's heaven.

Snow? In the great Northwest? Bah!

I am firmly into "spring" mode now.  Really I've been in it for a couple of weeks now even though today's only the second of March.  The weather has been changing and I feel like we have successfully gone over the hump from winter into spring.  For me, one of the great signs of spring isn't the warmer days, or the return of the robins, or the buds forming on the trees - as great as all those are, but rather the return of the Samoas.  Mmmmm...

However, winter had one last hurrah for us.  Late in the morning on Wednesday it started to snow in Marysville, and it really didn't stop until late that night.  Thursday morning I got up early and it was so beautiful that I had to throw on the coat and take the camera out.  I've posted a few of the pictures here.  The snow is mostly gone now, and it feels like early spring again.  And that's ok.

Deep Dark Secret

Ok, here goes.  It's time to come clean.  I'm a nail biter.  It's shameful I know, and I want to quit so bad.  Even now I am rubbing my thumb across the nail of my pointy finger and am thinking to myself, "hmm, the nail seems to be a bit rough, I'd better nibble it down to smoothness".  Of course that never works.  Inevitably, at some point I've worn it down to where it meets the skin and it starts to hurt.  Must, not, bite, nail...

Driving is the worst.  I could be having a perfectly good non-nail chewing day and find that by the time I get home from work, they are all chewed down to the skin.  It must be the idleness of the drive with nothing for my hands to do. One thing that helps is chewing gum, but that has it's own side affects (especially if there is lots of sugar involved), but may be a better alternative.  There are some other suggestions here, but needless to say - it's gota stop.

According to this, nail biting could be a result of a "nervous habit" or stress or anxiety.  Although I have my share of stress and anxiety, I'm not sure that's the reason.  My guess is it's more along the lines of the need to be doing something all the time.  I've never been a big fan of idleness.  Or it could just simply be a need to have smooth edges.  I have a similar thing with burgers.  When I take a bite, if it's not a clean cut and there is a bit of the pickle or lettuce or something sticking out I have to either bite it off or pull it out before taking my next full bit.  Weird, I know.  Something wrong in my head?  Probably.

So, this begins the first in my public disclosure of my goals for this year.  I will stop biting my nails.

Now, where's that nail file...