Tag Archives: outdoors

Throwback Post: A Butterfly Effect Redux: Birds, Humans and Relationships

Saturday morning Mick and I were up early preparing food for the Bedlam tailgating festivities.  We decided a grocery store run was inevitable and made plans to go together, thus dividing and conquering the massive WalMart Super Store.  I was finishing up something in the kitchen when Mick walked in and looked at me.  He said, “Kelly.  Something bad happened.  Do want to see this?”  He hesitated.  “I’m not sure you want to see this.”

His face conveyed the kind of message sent when a pet dies, or one of our children has broken a bone.  So then I hesitated.  “What happened?” I asked.

“A litle bird somehow flew into our garage and got stuck in one of the glue traps.  It’s really, really stuck,” he responded.

“Well, let’s see if we can somehow free it before we think about other options.”  I was thinking out loud.  I knew it would be frightened, so I grabbed a tea towel, a pair of kitchen shears and headed to the garage.  I was just thinking that when you want to lead a horse somewhere, sometimes you cover it’s eyes.  Maybe cutting out any outside distractions would help it stay more calm.  I wasn’t thinking that the tea towel would ALSO get stuck in the trap.

Continue reading Throwback Post: A Butterfly Effect Redux: Birds, Humans and Relationships

In Search of a Name for the “Man-Bun”


Yep, there it is in all its glory. My "Man-Bun" in need of a decent descriptor.

There really aren’t too many of us these days: long-haired freaky looking guys. Especially those of us who aren’t that freaky.  We grow up, get respectable jobs or just loose our follicles.  Society eventually molds us to its will.

Or does it?

A funny thing happened on my way to respectability.  I found out I just wasn’t that corporate.  And I decided that in honor of my brothers who no longer can, if I can grow my hair, I should.

So here I am once again in familiar territory; the end of the dreaded in-between stage where you can’t pull all your hair into a ponytail so most of the time it looks like a mop in a light socket.  “Push through,” I tell myself.  “Wear a hat.”  Oh yes, that doesn’t work either; my hair makes it slide up my head.  “Push through.”

Continue reading In Search of a Name for the “Man-Bun”