Monday, June 27, 2011

P. Sherman, 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney

I sold those dishes! And no I didn't spend some of the money on fast food.  Please. (Jack in the Box.)

I'm also working on a truly hideous scarf that I kept trying to tell myself I liked because I'm gaudy, and then as I was knitting I came across a big patch of yarn that had maple syrup on it and realized I HATED THAT SCARF.  I tried to wash it off and then I put it in a bag so I wouldn't have to look at it anymore.  ANY.  MORE.

But really, I think I like it a lot because that thing is ugly.

Oh man, I was just reminded of the time when there were raccoons fighting outside of my bedroom in high school.  I woke up in a cold sweat and heard this horrible hissing and barking outside and was convinced there were rabid dogs near my window.  When I looked out I saw two raccoons hissing and snarling at each other and suddenly?  My image of cute little raccoons was ruined forever.

Those stupid raccoons were destructive.  And I just realized maybe I shouldn't tell the story I was actually going to tell.  No, I will.  The raccoons were a problem, getting under everyone's mobile homes and having babies under the floor and eating all of Cinnamon's food and washing their creepy human looking fingers in his water every night.  So my dad got a permit and a trap from Fish and Wildlife to catch them, and they said feel free to trap and kill them because they were a problem.

During that time I was on my way home from a choir trip and called to check in.  I don't remember how he got around to it, but my dad said he had killed a raccoon.  Even though we didn't own guns I think I asked if he shot it.  When he said no, I asked if he broke its neck.  "Broke its neck?  I'm not sticking my arm in there with a hissing raccoon.  I drowned it."


And my dad proceeded to say that he put cinder blocks together and stuck a tarp in it, essentially making an above ground pool, if you will.  He filled it with water and put the cage, raccoon included, into it.  Dad just emailed me.  I am supposed to call this the Pit of Death.


But isn't it saying something about how manly I think my dad is that I thought he broke a raccoon's neck?  I have this totally butch image of my dad.  In my head he is the epitome of manliness, riding a tyrannosaurus rex through the burning wasteland.  You know, punching sharks and stuff.  There are sharks on land in this terrifying future.

Really he just likes to play puzzles and doesn't actually enjoy being the designated raccoon killer of the family.

Um, anyway, Jesse and I went to the Oregon Coast Aquarium last weekend.  Sharkbait, hoo ha ha.

I sent my parents an email about the raccoon story to get their feedback.  While my dad wrote, "be sure to accurately describe the Pit of Death," my mother said, "I was not involved.  I thought the whole idea was madness."  Those two sentences regarding the same story describe my parents perfectly.


  1. From what I remember of your parents...yes. Perfect. Pretty sure we're going to stop at the Aquarium when we come next week.
    Looks like we're not going thru p-town :(. Maybe Next time.

  2. You are hysterical!! I'm so confused-do you like the scarf,or don't you? Also, do the raccoons relate to the scarf? Because at first, I was all "I totally know how this relates..." but by the end? Not so confident. Also? Couldn't remember what I thought the connection was. Lol.

  3. You're so cute honey even when your getting to familiar with a bronze turtle.

  4. We had the opposite of the Pit of Death at my house when I was a kid.

    We used to live in this house that had this HUGE picture window and the stupid birds kept flying into it and knocking themselves out, and I'd have to run out there and rescue them before my cats found them. I rigged up a basket with a rope that I could raise and lower from a tree and I stuck the unconscious birds in there to keep them safe. Go me!

    And you can always market your scarf as maple syrup scented. Problem solved. Yay!


    Are you capable of knitting or crocheting or... Whatever... Something like, say, a baby sized costume?

  6. you. are. killing me.
    the nemo references, the pit of death, the parental quotes, the ugly scarf. This post had it all.
    Freaking hilarious. You have mad skilz.

  7. Yay! Dishes sold!

    I have seen the future and it is not pretty. But you are a-dor-able.

    -Sent from the Pit of Death

  8. Dad told me that story over the phone too. He ended it with "nothing smells worse than a wet, dead raccoon."

  9. Oh, sweet baby Jesoos wrapped in a rag. Your dad KILLED a raccoon? This isn't going to appear in an episode of some bizarre reality TV show, is it?!?!?!

    No, really. Is it?

  10. Furry, that raccoon was dead approximately 8 or more years ago. If he appears on a tv show, we have problems.

    And don't worry, my dad didn't seem to have much of a taste for blood. One dead raccoon in a mobile home park was plenty for him.

  11. Hilarious! And that photo of you and the turtle? Priceless.

    New follower via Bye Bye Pie and Laundry Hurts my Feelings...

  12. that turtle is so into it, you can really tell.

  13. Okay, I was sitting here all fine and good until someone remembered your dad saying "nothing smells worse than a wet, dead raccoon."
    Spewed coffee.

    I think that story beats my dad's dead possum story, because he didn't kill it...his dog did and then wouldn't let him have it.

  14. The Pit of Death?! This had me cracking up.

  15. Okay, first of all, that last picture of you. A.DOR.A.BLE.

    I have no idea why I just broke up that word like that. I was really just trying to stress how adorable you looked.

    Anyway, that is my kind of story there. I think I love your parents.

    So, so, so. Here's my raccoon story from last week. I will start it by saying I despise those skanky varmints.

    We were up in Nashville and my wonderful, lovely niece was dog, house and duck sitting. The ducks wander around the back yard during the day and then get put up into an elevated cage at night for their protection. My niece said she fell asleep watching TV and woke up to the sounds of the ducks quacking. She went outside to see a flurry of feathers and a raccoon fleeing away from the feather scene. And there was one of our ducks, all bloody about the head. She rinsed the duck off and she said it looked like the stupid raccoon had its mouth around the duck's neck! Luckily, the neck wounds are not that deep and by the time we got home, the wounds had healed into big, black scabby gouges. But I think the duck is terrified now. It's very quiet when before it was a big quacker. Now, don't get me wrong. I still think the duck is an asshole, because ducks ARE assholes, but creature deserves that.

    Ducks may be assholes, but raccoons are bigger assholes.

    I need your dad's Pit of Death.

  16. Oh my gosh, this story was so funny.

    I love how your mom reacts in the "I wash my hands of this" way.

  17. When we first moved into this house, a little pale colored racoon came up to me by the pool with her hand outstretched. I went inside and got a sleeve of Ritz crackers. I fed them to her one at a time. Everyday at about four o'clock, Blondie would come get me for her crackers. Everyday for about three years, through two sets of twins, a single and an adopted baby. Her big old husband, Dagwood, never even stopped to notice me, but Blondie was right there, tiny outstretched hand, asking for her crackers.

    I really like racoons because of her. Don't tell your dad. ;)

  18. Ok. You're a fun blogger! To prove it, I'm your newest follower :)

  19. wow, I can't believe you are allowed to kill racoons.. we have possums that make heaps of noise and sound like burglars but we're not allowed to kill them and actually wouldn't want to, cos they can be pretty cute when they come to the kitchen window asking for food. But in New Zealand they are allowed to use them for fur, cos they are not native species there. OK, Australasian history and nature lesson over. Well, you asked for it with that heading on your post!

  20. I also had raccoons that would hang out on my window every morning and scare the sh*** out of me when I'd open my curtains! And yes their hands are totally creepy, once when I was staying in a hotel there was a skylight above my bed... then one night I woke up and I saw all these little hands stroking it! Then I realised they were raccoons AND they where doing poos and then wiping it on the window of the skylight which meant they were blocking my view to the stars! Nice eh?

    Great story!


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