Adventures at Night...

Well, Ike is heading into the Gulf, so we are in line for some more rains. As it stands, we are to finish out the week with rains, but if Ike hits the Texas coast it will push rains inland again, most likely bringing Dewey back home from his jobsite, as well as keep us in plenty of rains.

'Tis autumn in The South. At least our little mountain corner of The South.

Last night, as the children readied for bed, one of the middles came running out to tell me there was something in the dog's run out front. And it was large. And it was black. And they just knew it would attack the dog.

I was summoned to the bedroom, where the entire group was lying across one of the beds, all staring out the window into the dark, watching this ominous black shape in the dog run.

We have a pole light out front, a the end of the drive, along the bend in the road. That's a good amount of light for most things, but not the best for 'thing watching in the dog run.' I looked out the window, half expecting to see something akin to a bear waiting out there for his opportunity to pounce on something unsuspecting. Someone decided it must be an armadillo...a larger than usual armadillo...Armadillo-zilla, perhaps?


Hmmm...what to do, what to do.

Well, obviously, if you are living a pioneer lifestyle on a rural mountain in the boonies, and yer Pa is gone...your first thought is to load up and prepare for battle. Load up the guns, that is. I'm pretty sure from the range of excitement and emotion in the bedroom along that bed near the window, that was indeed the plan. Load em' all up and then make for the front porch, guns blazing in the night. I think they even had readied a plan to arm little Miss Emily for the attack as well.

Amazing how the imaginations of children can run amok so quickly, isn't it? LOL...you read some Little House on The Prairie and bingo...suddenly we are living in the wilderness here, in need of arms for the threatening attacks of nature itself. Ma and the childruns...all alone to face the wilds of an untamed land. What more could a middle boy-child ask for in life?

Well, I just stood there, watching the fervor grow. I tried not to laugh as everyone made their way to the door. Shushing each other, motioning for this one of that one to take a leading position.
Don't turn on the porch light someone whispered.
Grab the kittens as soon as the door opens, another begged.
Ready? Let's go! The Charge of The Smith Brigade at it's best.

The door opened...only 2 ran out to the porch. Eldest daughter and middle son. He blew past his sister like she was standing still. She was, actually...until she side-stepped his advancing charge and tipped a flower pot over sending mud up her leg. Then she really stood still.

There it was...in the dog run...big as all get out. Up close and personal.

Ahh, the excitement of childhood. The excitement of country life in the nighttime.

The ominous creature stalking a meal in the dog run?

It was the dog himself.

Just lying out near the grass. Not worried about a thing besides sleeping. Wondering what all the fuss and commotion is about. Eldest daughter made way for another shower...she had just left the bathroom when the attack was sounded. Now, limping into the house grumbling about how middle son was always getting ahead of himself, trying to keep the mud from making a bigger mess, she headed back to the bath. The youngers were still abuzz in the bedroom, watching the window just in case something came back.

I was hoping for a distinct lack of excitement around here with Dad gone. And here I get our own little version of Teddy Roosevelt's Rough Riders instead.

I think we need to find a different book to read through. Little House on The Prairie might be a bit mmuch for my children's imaginations.
Maybe we'll just stick with the Adventures of Dick and Jane.