How fun...love these sort of things. My blogger friend, Carol, tagged me with the following "award". Thanks Carol---I feel honored. “These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.” I never know how to handle this "tagging-thing" so if you are reading this, consider yourself "tagged" and play along. Please be sure to leave a comment so I can read your fascinating facts :).
The tag is ... List Random Things About Yourself (more if you feel inclined to do so)
(1.) I am a magnet for "strays"---both in animal and people form. I consider it an honor and a privilege. I'll stick to the animal side for this post...from childhood onward, I can recall 90+ critters come, get loved on, and sent on to loving homes. (70+ of those animals---cats, dogs, ducks, birds---durng my 13 year relationship with my now-husband; thankfully, he has a BIG heart for animals.)
The "worst" being a teeny-tiny unknown. I was told by a college science professor that it was a very young squirrel and had no chance of surviving. Not only did it survive, it thrived. The odd thing was that it wasn't following its proper developmental stages so I made another trip to the Science Lab and the professor had a vet-friend come by and check things out.
AFTER the vet quit laughing, he told me I had become the "loving surrogate mother of an everday, common street RAT!!" AAAAAGGGHHH!!! That thing had lived on my shoulder, been kissed on by me and children that I babysat during my college years. I even managed to persuade my dorm manager to let it stay with me through the critical nurturing stages.
The vet kindly offered to take the animal from my care and I tearfully surrendered (not sure if the tears were of sadness or disgust) and simply didn't ask any further questions.
(2.) I grew up with a 2 grandfathers and an uncle who were truck drivers and frequently heard stories about their experiences of helping people in need along the highway. My home-to-college-route was a 5 1/2 hour interstate drive (pre-cell phone era). I had occasion to stop and help some 'stranded' on the side of the road until one day, I was ROYALLY chewed out by a person I stopped to check on.
There was a woman holding a child behind the vehicle. I pulled up behind them and asked if they needed any help. A man was on the ditch side of the vehicle changing the tire. Come to find out, he was an off-duty police officer who was traveling with his wife and their grandson. When he heard me talking with his wife, he came around the back of that vehicle STERNLY warning me of the dangers of stopping on the side of the road.
They had a daughter who was also in college and he was quick and graphic about all the things that could possibly happen to one who chose to stop and help a stranger. After his 'concerned rant', he advised me, for future situations, to simply take note of the closest mile-marker sign, go to the next safe exit and call DPS and let them know about whatever situation.
Two weeks later, a young man who attended a nearby community college stopped to help someone in need on the side of the same highway, outside of North Little Rock. He was beaten, robbed, and run over by his own car and died alone on that roadside. They did catch his attackers. Only by the grace of God was it not me...
(3.) I have always known what I wanted to be when I grew up. Long before school-age, I would line up my stuffed animals and friends who chose to cooperate and "read" to them in a teacher-y voice. Even before I began school, I knew that I wanted to be a kindergarten teacher and one day be actively involved in children's ministries. I never thought of becoming anything else. I have taught kdg. for the past 14 years but have now switched to Pre-K, because of the unfortunate circumstances that have turned kindergarten into what once considered "first grade".