Grasshopper Rescue: A Good Place to Start

With all the back blogging I owe, I thought I would start with a harrowing rescue wrought with fear and betrayal.

The reason for the blogging neglect was due to the stream of family visitors that have ensued for the past months. That isn't to suggest such visits were unwanted, but that blogging took a back seat.

During a Walmart run in preparation for my sister and her kids visiting us, I noticed a large set of dragonfly wings protruding from my windshield. On closer inspection, I discovered that the wings belonged to a fairly largish grasshopper who had become lodged in the small space between the car trim and the windshield. I knew two things instantly, we must rescue the grasshopper and I wasn't about to touch it. I thought my kids who are avid bug touching fans (see here) would be thrilled at such a chance, but the shear size of the beast made Tiago shrink in fear.


Luckily a nearby stick help pry the near dead insect from its bird bait position. Afraid for the limping grasshopper, we tried to take it to a safer place. Unfortunately, the grasshopper wasn't trusting of our motives and stung Tiago with its spiky hind legs. That's gratitude for you. Which made me think, how often do I give a harsh response when the intention is to help. Good thing Fernando is patient.

Home

What mother books a flight for her and her 3 kids that leaves at 8 pm and arrives almost at midnight? Well, this was the question racing through the mind of the well dressed business man with the blue-tooth in his ear. Thank heavens for male flight attendants who lack relational aggression and think to make a balloon out of plastic gloves and alcohol to fuzzy up the other passengers. The flight was a bit rocky, but out of sympathy many of the passengers found me afterwords to commend me on my willingness to attempt such a insane feat solo and how wonderful my kids were. All of you who have flown with kids realize what a blessing loving words can be after such an ordeal. But we are home now and have much to blog about. First. . .I have to unpack.

Oh, before I forget. I can not begin to tell you how glad I was to come home to a clean house. I understand why my mom always made the house spotless even though we would be gone. One less thing to think about.