Maybe I'm Just Too Kind

A "Proximal Row Carpectomy" with tendon transfers can leave you with a lot of physical therapy afterwords.
A "Proximal Row Carpectomy" with tendon transfers can leave you with a lot of physical therapy afterwords.
They love to come out at night.
They love to come out at night.
"Please don't kill me!"
"Please don't kill me!"

Some of you may have noticed that I have not posted anything for quite a while. I have been offline and somewhat incapacitated both physically and financially. You see, I had an accident at work that has cost me the use of my right hand, at least for a while. And being right hand dominant, it is hard for me to do my job as a butcher, let alone hold a butter knife. My doctor and therapist have allowed me to type (or try to) for about 20-30 minutes at a time as part of my healing therapy.

But without going into details of what happened (at the behest of my attorney), I can say that what I had done was major reconstructive surgery on my hand and wrist. Now I must go through 5 months of physical therapy and “learn” to use my hand all over again. Christmas has been postponed indefinitely and we now have to cut back on expenses even more so. Because of this I am forced to use the Internet at the Lulawissie Library if I want to communicate via email or the like.

But while I have been home for the last several weeks, I have gotten to know this drafty old farmhouse quite well. I haven’t been able to fully participate in its constant upkeep and routine maintenance, and it seems that the local rodent population is aware of that, as they have become opportunistic and are pushing the limits of cohabitation. I feel that I am too kind to these animals. I don’t like to kill anything if I don’t have to. I trap them live and release them elsewhere (like in the neighbor’s yard down the road), or try to prevent them from coming in to begin with. But these guys are persistent, and they are beginning to cause serious damage. They are costing me money that I don’t have. Much to my own personal angst, I need to begin taking more serious measures, but again, I feel that I am just too kind. My dogs seem to have other plans for our uninvited guests.

As Sammie and I were getting ready for church last Sunday morning, there was some sort of commotion going on in the field behind the orchard. I was not aware of it until all of our outdoor dogs began barking and howling. I walked out to investigate, only to hear more barking, yapping and howling out in the field. I walked out past the chicken house to investigate and what I found was reminiscent of a Disney movie. Over the tall buffalo grass I could see the head and antlers of a magnificent 8 point buck. The animal was spinning in circles bowing its head in a defensive manner toward the source of the barking and yapping. I thought some stray dogs were annoying this poor animal, so I ran toward it waving my arms and shouting. When I got close enough to see what the dogs were, I realized that perhaps I had overstepped my boundaries as a human and had interrupted Mother Nature in the middle of doing what she does best. They weren’t dogs at all; they were a pair of Red Wolves.

Suddenly I felt naked. I was closer to these animals than I was to the safety of the chicken house, and they were just standing there staring at me. A million thoughts raced through my tiny brain (like “what were you thinking?!”), and I wasn’t sure what to do, so I went for broke and continued running toward them making an even louder commotion. To my amazement and good fortune, the wolves took off, but the buck stood his ground.

Standing about 25 feet from him, he just stood there. His breath shot out of his nostrils in a dense fog in the cold air as he bowed his head and snorted at me, clawing at the dirt with his hoof. He saw me as a new threat. “Oh crap!” I thought. My mind reeled with stories I had read in Field and Stream magazine about how hunters were trampled and gored by charging bucks. I backed away slowly as he grunted and snorted, and he graciously allowed me safe passage back to the trail that I walked in on. Maybe he realized that I had actually done him a favor by running off those two wolves. Maybe not. Merry Christmas to you, my friend.

Yes, it’s finally Christmas. Christmastime down here in Lulawissie is always magical. It is like being thrust into a Norman Rockwell magazine cover, with all of the tastes and smells that go with the season and all of the town’s people are so joyous and festive with their holiday activities. We have a new Facilities Manager in our town this year, Lester Simms. Lester is a good ol’ boy from Yoknapatawpha County in Mississippi, and he is sometimes hard to converse with because of his thick Southern drawl. But Lester is very personable and does a great job keeping our town in good repair, though he was a week late in getting our nativity scene set up on the square. Funny thing, though, at the unveiling of this year’s nativity scene, we were all in curious awe about why the 3 wise men were wearing firemen’s hats. When Lester was questioned about it, he promptly pulled a pocket sized New Testament from his hip pocket, opened to the appropriate page and pointed to the text:

“See? It says raht-cheer. The three wise men had come from a far.”

Well, my friends, I am glad to be back online keeping you updated about life in this quaint little town of mine. My hand still has a lot of healing to do, so I may not be here as often as I would like to be, but I am never far away. I feel very blessed and thankful this evening. I received a check in the mail today from a publisher as a small advance on my first book, “The Walnut Tree”, a poignant story of a family coming together and discovering the power of prayer. It should hit the shelves next summer.

Tonight the air is crisp and cold enough to hold your words in its grasp until the frosty breeze carries them away. Simply beautiful. As always, give the Good Lord thanks for everything, work hard and always do a good deed for someone that you don’t know. God Bless you all during this wonderful Christmas season.

I bid you Peace.

©2011 by Del Banks

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Comments 5 comments

chuckbl profile image

chuckbl 4 years ago from Scotland

I hope your hand makes a speedy recovery. Don't worry, these things mend in time, and once they do, it'll be better than ever because you will be so grateful to have it back in proper use once more. Good luck. :)


badegg profile image

badegg 4 years ago from Southern Appalachians Author

Thank you for you kind words!


mrslagibb profile image

mrslagibb 4 years ago

I know I am six weeks late. I do hope your hand is a lot better by now, and not being able to pursue something that you love to do because of it financially. I KNOW THAT FEELING. HENCE THE CUT BACKS. However, on that I note I just want to now wish you http://mrslagibb.hubpages.com/hub/2010-A-new-years... A Happy New year and prosperous one. By far a better christmas for 2012 than you had, this one gone.

Congratulations on "The Walnut Tree".


Ms-Chrysalis profile image

Ms-Chrysalis 4 years ago from North Carolina

Judging from the date of this post, I guess I am more than a little late in posting my comment . However, I am glad I read this. I enjoyed it. Your encounter with the wolves and buck is interesting indeed. And I laughed out loud about the three wise men in fire hats! That was great! I truly hope your hand is healing well and you continue to post great articles like this one raht-cheer! Good luck to you


badegg profile image

badegg 4 years ago from Southern Appalachians Author

Ha ha! Thank you! My hand is doing well, and life is progressing.

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