Well today is my brother's birthday. He's 28 and engaged. I finally met his fiance, Tera, last weekend when I went home to bury Gramma Kulas' ashes.
The ceremony was casual and nice. It was good closure. My dad cracks me up. I drove up separate as I was going to go from Kettle River to St. Cloud later in the day. When I arrived my dad was standing near the grave with shovel in hand. He's a short guy 5'8" maybe? Anyway, he was standing there in jean shorts going past his calves, white tube socks and super white white shoes. He had on a thick flannel overcoat and looked like a homie. He did a great job though. It was hard seeing he and his siblings bury the urn.
The priest was very "Virgina MN" - He seeeed evvvrIE thang... wit a very Nordic tone.. and inFLECted the middle.. of each word/fragment/sentence.
I sure am going to miss gramma. She is the reason I am the person I am. She was willing to welcome everyone into her life (even if she didn't like the way they acted or the things they did - I wish I could be more like this). She also walked in the path of God. She most likely had a tougher life than you or I would ever know and did not complain. She probably went straight up to heaven faster than anyone I know.
From here I went to some old friends' wedding. Beckmann is one of my favorite people in the world and he married a fantastic lady - Karen. After 10 years it's about darn time. I wish them the best. The best part of the wedding was being able to see Angie, whom I hadn't seen in years. We did-it-up and had a good time. We even made a trip to Coborn's - pics to come later. From the Wedding in Sartell we made last call at the carpet in St. Cloud - wow we're old, too old for that place ;p -- it was still fun. Her fiancé still hates me, he wouldn't even shake my hand when I saw him. From what I can gather he hates me because I'm a woman who speaks my mind. I guess that's not permissible in his world.
I drove back to the cities and stopped for lunch with the "coolest" friend I've ever had - Stina. We enjoyed some life and laugh at Boston's. Pretty good stuff.
I went home and rode Cobrizo - he finally bucked like a real horse! Because I didn't fall off I was so proud of him. Horses generally buck the first couple times out each spring. And I make fun of my lazy butt fatty. He does the first half of the buck right (puts his head down), but usually he forget to kick out or hump up his back legs - not this time. All four feet were off the ground - little jack ass. He was great after that though. I wish he were here. I really miss riding and I even miss his little bratty-self.
Then comes the story many of you were waiting for - the poor squirrel... I was driving to visit Amy and Paul (and the kids and new baby horse!) and was less than a mile from their house in St. Francis when I saw a squirrel in the middle of the road. I drove over (but did not hit) it. I noticed his little feet squirming. Arghhh. I can't leave the poor little thing there ( I was actually hoping someone would hit it and put it out of it's misery). I drove around, passed it and verified that it was alive. I had to drive over it again to find a safe place to park. I got out and grabbed my ice scraper from my trunk. The poor little thing was lying on his back and panting so hard. A couple more vehicles cruised over it while I was trying to figure out how to get him out of the middle of the road. I knew I didn't have it in me to kill him, but I couldn't think of just leaving the poor thing there to have a near-heart-attack on top of being in pain each time someone drove over. So I tried to lift him with my ice scraper. He flipped over to his feet and started jumping all crazy side-ways. Then he hopped back to the middle of the road and was stuck on his back again - Arghhh. "Don't you see? I'm trying to help you?" I was clicking and talking soft (I think squirrels click). I finally got him to the ditch and brushed him a couple times with the brush part of the ice scraper. He had blood coming out of his mouth, I hope he was able to just die peacefully on the side of the road.
And the dying animal stories gets even worse... Friday night I went from the museum and worked at the boutique until 11 ish. Hanna met me and we went to Joe Cats to dance and forget our worries. We were sitting on the stoop of Franklin and Brady so she could smoke and as we were talking she said, "That cat's gonna get..." Hit. This big ol' grey and white tom was hit by a car SPEEDING down Brady. The car didn't even slow down. The Cat got up moved around a bit and fell over. A couple more cars just zoomed right over it. PEOPLE seriously. Hanna was crying and I went over to see if I could at least move it off the road (I had experience with this a couple days earlier...). Thankfully there was a really nice guy (there are some out there ladies!) who went out and picked up the cat very nicely. The guy's girlfriend was bawling. The cat was dead. He said he knew it when he picked it up because it didn't even flinch. We tried to shut its eyes. He laid it on the side-walk. Then we all thought that drunk people would on Brady St would not be respectful and would most likely do some disgusting things. He picked it up again and I'm not sure if he put it in the garbage, or if they lived close enough to take it home an bury it. Oh my GOD that was so sad. It's almost worse to see the life leave a body than to arrive when it's gone, or has not quite left.
The one thing I don't understand is why is it okay to shoot, hit, run-over an animal to "put it out of it's misery." But the thought would be viewed as absurd or cruel when it comes to people... Yet, you hear people saying things like, "well it was time, now "place name" is not suffering." Even more confusing to me are the people that say, "it was just a cat/squirrel/..." I want to tell those people, "well, you're just a jack-ass." I definately like animals more than most people - for sure!
One day I will find a man who will pick-up a dead cat to make me feel better - because I'm upset and also because he too is compassionate - one day...