THIS, I Know For Sure

Tonight our topic at our WINGS gathering is "THIS, I know for sure ... " I already had things that I wanted to share. This wasn't on the radar, but apparently it was meant to be. It is something that I truly believe and have fully known for a very long time.

I know that you will keep being presented with the same lesson until you learn it.

Sometimes the lesson is deep and it takes us awhile to even figure out we're supposed to be learning something. Sometimes it's ridiculously obvious.

Last year, after sixteen years of no issues, a raccoon got into my cabin and created havoc. The mess was disgusting and disheartening. I threw away the mattress and cushions and bedding and quilts. I scrubbed and disinfected every inch of the place. And I thought, 'I need to make sure I secure this place better in the fall.' 

I forgot. It never crossed my mind again.

I thought I noticed the other day that the door to the cabin was open. My eyes aren't that great anymore. The bridge to the cabin had once again floated away and getting there is do-able, just not as easy, so I chose to put it out of my mind.

No need to open the door to know there was trouble ... it was already open.

I made my way over there this weekend. I didn't even have to open the door to know there was trouble, because yes, the door WAS open. Both doors.

I wasn't even shocked or upset, just totally resigned to the fact that I am a fool. An 89 cent lock would have have totally avoided it.

This time he really did a number on it. He must have decided that he needed to ensure that the message sunk in this time. Why else would a creature go all around the perimeter of a building and rip out the insulation. It's not edible. It's not a nesting substance. Nothing smells good tucked inside it. The muddy clawing marks every two feet are very strange ... lots of them. Where was the mud coming from, you'd think his hands would have been clean by then. Very, very strange in a creepy sort of way.

I would have liked to observe his technique. Was he doing it from hanging on the edge and throwing it down? Probably not as the pictures weren't knocked off. But there's not enough room on the 4 inch ledge for a fat, old, lumbering coon and how could he get around the rafters? And how did he scale the wall to begin with?

I sure like to know what this was all about

He knocked down pretty well everything on the edge, smashing my flow blue plate and blue and white teapots. He broke the pitcher my sister made me in 1972 and destroyed the turquoise glass oil lamp that my mother gave me for a shower gift in 1974. It still had the cinnamon scented oil in it that took me back to the memories of our first apartment. 

So ... the lesson:

Remember stuff. Act on it. But remember that you don't remember very well anymore, so write it down. No ... better yet - DO IT NOW. Do it while it's fresh in your mind.

And believe me. It's fresh.

He forgot to toss down a couple pieces of insulation.

And muddy mess at equal intervals all around the perimeter... at the rafters, so how did he do that

This must have taken him awhile.  He pulled the eyes out of the poor bunny - that's wasn't cool.

Same deal as last year but added in the insulation for good measure.

The torquoise oil lamp from my mom.

Some nice china pieces for my glass cases.

That a lot of work for him and a lot of work for me.

Here we go again.
Everything out. And this time I get to scrub the walls.