Do you remember your favorite book from childhood?
Are we talking about baby books that older adults read to you? Are we talking about the first book you read to yourself? Are we talking about the books you would buy at the Scholastic book fair? The fair they had every year in the trailer, and you would walk in and it would smell like new books and you knew this was your place? Or are we talking about books you read as an older child, the books that formed who you are and showed you other worlds can exist. And not only can you read them, you can write them.
I am sure they’re all in my memory somewhere, but they all exist as one.
Now that I’m allowed to answer prompts again for the past two days, WordPress had better be ready for me. I’m not actually going to answer this prompt, but I feel like the choice of words is incorrect. Well, that wouldn’t be the first time for WordPress, am I right?
I agree, Idris 
Let’s talk about something else. Let’s continue the theme of helping animals. In mid-April we had a really hot spell. I had no air-conditioning installed at the time, and neither did the animals outside. Earlier in the morning, I washed up a few dishes in the sink and placed them next to the sink on a cloth. I didn’t dry them. I just sort of left them there with the drops of water surrounding them. I left the kitchen and came back a bit later only to find a tiny spider on the counter. I don’t know how many of you would have squished the spider, but as you know, I had Katherine I, the orb weaver, make her nest on my porch a few years ago, so I have developed a reverence for spiders. Well, at least a tolerance. I will not kill them if I can move them outside. And yes, I do realize some spiders are house spiders, and they will die outside. So we have a deal. As long as a house spider doesn’t get in my shower, it can live in my bathroom, but in a space where I can’t see it.
Back to the counter spider, I wondered what the spider was doing, but then I understood. It was drinking the water on the counter. It was thirsty and it was hot. So I let it drink, and I told it as long as it goes back to its house outside, I would not have to use the special cup with the lid to transport it outside. I watched it for several minutes and then I left it alone. It was fascinating. I came back later and it was gone. I did put a small piece of cat food next to it in case it wanted some food with its drink at the drive-through, but it didn’t seem to eat any.
Safe travels, my tiny friend.
Even insects deserve mercy, a safe home, and not to be uprooted from all that they know.
*Except the tiny ants who are found in your kitchen by the thousands and are trying to eat one grain of sugar. I cannot rescue these individuals.*
This is Ma’am. She frequently does performative art. I’ve been feeding this squirrel for at least four years. Around Thanksgiving, she showed up with two huge masses on her face. She couldn’t eat, but she tried. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew she would die if I didn’t try to help her. I searched the internet for help and found a wildlife rehab nearby. The woman there told me to get the squirrel into a cat carrier and bring her over to her house via car.
I had the cat carrier, but I didn’t have much conviction that this would work. But I didn’t have time to think about how it would fail. I got the carrier out, put it on the porch and loaded it up with peanuts and blueberries. By this time, the squirrel had gone home and I waited on the porch to see if she would return. It was a matter of life or death. I’m not being dramatic – it really was. She came back, and got close enough to the carrier that I was able to push her in and shut the door. I called the woman and informed her that I was successful with the capture and I would be at her house within 20 minutes.
I expected the squirrel to get loose in my car and envisioned a horrific scene of torn upholstery, and a screaming driver with a squirrel on top of her head, but the squirrel was so good. She didn’t let out a peep and enjoyed the ride.
We got to the woman’s house, which is where she runs the rehab for wild animals, and I gave her my friend Ma’am.
I called the next day and inquired about my squirrel‘s face. Apparently, she had two pockets of infection. One had popped with some antibiotic treatment, but the other one needed more time. Ma’am was there nearly a month. I called every day, wanting to know how she was and if she could come home yet.
The woman was astonished that I would want to bring her home because usually people drop off wildlife and the woman releases them into the woods behind her house. But that’s not how I work. The squirrel lives here. She has a nest and a family and friends and a life here.
Remarkably, she got better. She never stopped growling at the woman who was helping her, but she became well enough to be released back to me. I was thrilled. I drove over to pick her up sometime around Christmas. She was quiet all the way home. I let her out of the box on the porch, where she usually eats, and she needed a few days to familiarize herself with her homebase. She came back in a few days, hungry and looking for snacks. I was worried she wouldn’t be as tame with me or as friendly, but I was worried for nothing. But I also didn’t want her to be as tame with me, I wanted her to have natural instincts to stay away from humans and to keep her wits about her out in the wild. 
As I compose this, it is May 9th, and I haven’t seen Ma’am in a few days, but that doesn’t really mean anything. A few times I haven’t seen her for a couple of weeks and she shows up unannounced. But once she’s here, everyone else must leave. She won’t have it any other way. (I have never seen an animal – besides my own cat, Susie – with such a will to live. I’m not sure what power charges that squirrel to keep living, but for Susie, I know it is love.)
Her face has healed up quite a bit since she got home, and although it may never be perfect, I tried my best to help an animal who badly needed it. I don’t regret anything, and I would do it all over again, even if the squirrel didn’t live.
Oh, there is a slight debate going on about whether the squirrel is a male or a female, although I’m almost 100% positive she’s a girl. I do know the squirrel growls at everyone and anything except me. She will fight off three other squirrels while she is eating walnuts (this is how a squirrel ends up with two pockets of infection on her face…). And I could swear I’ve seen her in previous summers with babies, but just in case, her name is Ma’am/Mr. Ma’am. It’s not important to me if the squirrel is a boy or a girl. What is important to me is that I help the helpless. I had to do it. She sought me out for help, and I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t say no. So I said yes, and now I frequently have performative art on my front porch, which does include a sploot or two. May we all find kindness when we desperately need it. May we all be kindness when others need it. May we take refuge in the solace of nature when everything feels heavy and impossible. The animals are worth it. And the trees are worth it too, but that’s another post.
Ma’am under the cherry treeAlmonds are hard. 1/10. Splootin’ on a hot day Living her best life
I’ll get to the prompt in a minute. I’m hoping this is the start of me being able to answer the prompts again. Truth be told, weeks ago I got a survey from WordPress and I really let them have it about the prompt problem. They didn’t exactly promptly fix the problem, and I don’t know if they did fix the prompt problem, but I can answer this one.
While I have your attention, I no longer get email notifications when everyone/anyone posts. I did not change my settings. Is anyone else having this issue, or has everyone left the site and no one is publishing anything anymore? Please let me know in the comments.
What did I learn in high school? I learned that sarcasm is my gift to the world and my gift isn’t always well received.
I took algebra two for my senior year. I should’ve been more advanced than that, but I am not a math person. We weren’t allowed to take our math books home because there weren’t enough books, so we ended up using them during class. I don’t recall much homework. If you can’t bring a book home, what could your homework possibly be? I didn’t like my teacher, but I did like talking to my friends during class. I didn’t pay attention in this class. It was my senior year, and I had three study halls because I didn’t need any more classes. At the start of school year I set myself on auto pilot and cruised through like the main character in Office Space sans gutting a fish on my desk and wearing flip-flops.
This scene is iconic
I don’t know how other schools were, but in each of my subjects, there was a midterm and a final exam. There were also tests in between. As I mentioned, we did not take our books home and I don’t recall homework. I also mentioned I liked to talk to my friends during class. It would’ve been fine if my whispering didn’t cause laughter among my friends, but it did. On more than one occasion, the teacher shouted at me to stop mumbling under my breath to my friends.
Ehh, probs not, Molly
Not gonna lie, I didn’t stop talking under my breath. I distinctly remember being sent out to sit in the hallway in a sort of hallway detention for the remainder of class. I didn’t see this as a punishment. I still don’t. I rather enjoyed chatting with people who walked by. I touched up my make up and I didn’t have to do any math. This hallway detention happened twice. I think it was the second time when I saw my Bestie in the hallway. She had the hall pass to go to the bathroom and just happened to find me sitting in the hall. We chatted for a few minutes. The teacher came out from time to time to check on me to make sure I was still there. Where would I go? Why would I get up? Silly man.
Can confirm this eye roll is similar to what landed me in the hallway – plus the mumbling under my breath thing
When it came time for the midterm test, I did my best, but without a book to take home, and not really giving it my all, I winged it. I made up formulas to solve fraction problems. After the teacher graded our tests, he announced – in a strained, pained voice – I had gotten the highest score. We were all in shock. I remember everyone turning to look at me with white eyes and I shrugged. 
The highest grade? Pfft, it was nothing
Let’s fast forward to the final exam. It’s late May, I’m graduating in June and I have totally checked out from all subject matter that didn’t involve graduation. I did not study for my final exam in algebra two. I probably didn’t even crack the book open. I continued to talk to my friends and my teacher continued to turn 10 shades of red when he yelled at me to be quiet. I was unbothered. We took our exams, and I guessed at almost every question. I did show my work, because in math you don’t get any credit if you don’t show your work. Imagine my surprise when the teacher announced I had gotten the highest grade yet again. (No, I did not cheat. There was no way to cheat and I would never. My grades were earned. From A all the way to F. And yes, I passed this class. I did very well, in fact, because I got the highest grades in the class for the most heavily weighted tests.) Everyone in class turned to look at me and I smiled. Then I laughed. And then my long suffering teacher almost suffered apoplexy.
Yep
I found out the following school year that my math teacher had retired. I like to think he had a long, enjoyable career and just decided to retire, but I truly feel I pushed him over the edge.
So what did I learn in high school? A couple of things. I learned how to put my sweatpants over my clothes so I didn’t have to change for gym. I learned that if you’re going to cut class, you should not cut the class where the teacher has a view of the parking lot and can see you leaving. I learned that I had a gift for writing. I learned my mouth could get me into a lot of trouble. And by trouble I mean hallway detention, which was actually fun. I learned that lunchtime detention was the absolute best. It was quiet and people brought your lunch to you from the cafeteria. I learned very little algebra, and to be honest, I haven’t needed it. I’ve needed the chemistry I learned at university, which was incredibly difficult for me to learn, but I did, and without any mumbling under my breath. 
I learned that making people laugh was something I was good at and something that gave me joy. If it got me hallway detention, cool. If it got me lunchtime detention, even better.
Gratuitous James Spader gif from Pretty in Pink because HELLO, IT’S JAMES SPADER #teamsteff
WP says I’ve already answered all of them. And by all of them, I mean the ones in the future as well as the past. I’m sure this is another glitch but, really? This glitch seems…off. 
Apologies for not being here everyone. I have no time to write or read. I opened this app this morning and read this prompt question. I know I joke a lot about these questions, but this one feels different.
“It's Amy,” I said. 