College is Strange

Stinkin’ Coon

Hello, blogosphere. Nice to see you again.

I haven’t written for a week or so because 1) I had a lot of other things to do and 2) I had nothing really to write about. Life was just going on normally: classes, music, library, homework, church, sleep, repeat. Don’t get me wrong–I love it. But it doesn’t make a very interesting blog post. Seriously. Imagine it.
Dear blogosphere:
Today I woke up and ate breakfast. Then I went to class, did homework, and went to another class and also chapel. Then I
ate lunch and had two more classes and then went to chorale and Jubilate and then did a little more homework and checked facebook and texted my sister and worked in the library all evening and practiced the piano for an hour and managed not to get any infractions ALL DAY!
Sincerely, me.
I think you understand. It wouldn’t be very interesting, would it? Which is why I have spared you. You’re welcome.

Today, however, is different.

You may or may not remember my adventures in church hunting. Thankfully, I eventually managed to find a church I really like where I believe I can both be blessed and be a blessing. This church also comes with some side benefits:  a pastor’s family who has picnics in the park with us, adorable kids to teach, great friends who also attend, and Old Crow Road. Last week was the picnic with the pastor’s family, after which I went hiking for two hours barefoot. Note to self: not the best idea. Wednesday was the teaching of the adorable kids, as I got to sub for my RA, who normally has the younger class but couldn’t make it. The kids made me call them “Supergirl” and “Batman” all evening. I didn’t mind at all.

The other perks–great friends and Old Crow Road–featured this evening. Seven of us go to this church: my wonderful, gracious, benevolent, inspirational, oh-so-gorgeous RA Kristen; Katie, Jenna’s cousin, who is remarkably persistent at banging on locked doors (heh heh heh); Jonathan, who said something funny on the ride home from church that I already forgot, which is why I should carry my quotebook around with me CONSTANTLY; Logan, who thinks possums are cute; Zach, who is on the Magnify team which I am super excited to hear; Scott Paris, whose trademark word is “stinkin'”; and yours truly, about whom you know too much already. Old Crow Road, for those of you who know where I live, reminds me quite a bit of Highway PP and Antire, winding prettily through the woods. The houses along it are a little nicer (no stilts or trailers or anything), and the size is a little narrower, but other than that, they’re really a lot alike. I love it.

The first time I visited this church, I learned that Scott Paris had a deep desire to kick a coon. Ergo, when we left, we decided to take Old Crow Road instead of the highway in the hopes that we could find a coon to kick. This image was quite perplexing to me, because I feel like coons are probably not going to wait around for you to stop the van, open the door (it’s really hard, let me tell you), clamber out, and run over to where it is to kick it. You have no need to suffer under this delusion, however; as I subsequently discovered, they were looking for a dead coon, not a live one. After all, getting scratched or bitten by a coon would require rabies shots and an infraction. To our disappointment, Old Crow yielded no coon dead or alive that night, and thus Scott Paris had to wait patiently for another coon-kicking opportunity.

Such an opportunity presented itself tonight.

We’ve been taking Old Crow pretty much every time we go home, partly because Scott Paris wants to kick a stinkin’ coon, partly because it’s just super gorgeous (have I mentioned to you that I LOVE AUTUMN WITH EVERY SINGLE FIBER OF MY BEING? And yes, every fiber of my being is still single, even after six whole weeks at bridal–err, Bible college!). Tonight was pretty standard. We piled in the van. I shut the door–well, tried to shut the door. It went like this:
Me: *vigorous yanking and tugging*
Logan: Whoa. Feeling a little violent there?
Me: Oh. Sorry. *very gently pulls door shut*
Logan: You can’t close it like that! You have to yank it!!
Me: ….didn’t you just say I was pulling too hard?

And they say girls are confusing. Anyhow.

Load in the van, shut door, put the van in reverse–hey that’s not reverse!–back out successfully, head down Old Crow, talk about something super weird. How long ago 2000 was! (Good night! That was a LONG time ago!) How cute possums are! (No, really!!) How weird it is to compare girls to goats! (Ummm…it means you’re cute and graceful!!) How delicious flaky biscuits are! (Good enough to eat infused with lima beans! Good enough to eat made with omega-3 fatty fish oil pills!)

Logan: Hey! *stops van* There’s a coon!
Someone else: Are you sure that’s not the possum we saw Wednesday?
Logan: I’m not sure. It’s pretty ripe.
Scott Paris: *exits van full speed to check*
Logan: *opens door to look more closely*
Kristen: *opens door to also look more closely*
People in other inconvenient locations: *crane necks to catch a glimpse*
Someone: I think this is the same place we saw the possum Wednesday.
Kristen: Eeeeeeeew.
Someone else: I can’t see it!
Scott Paris: It’s…um…yup, it’s a coon! *nudges it with his toe kicks it*
Someone: Wait, is that all?
Scott Paris: *re-enters van* And I don’t want to hear any flack about not actually kicking it! That thing was nasty!
People in back: *gasping* We can tell! It’s still on your shoe!
People in middle: *grimacing* ohmygoodness that smells AWFUL!
People in front: *wheezing* WHY did we open those doors?
Scott Paris: I can’t smell it!
People in back: *coughing* How are you going to get that smell off your shoe?
Scott Paris: Oh wait. NOW I can smell it.
Someone else: We do not want that shoe in this van.
Someone brilliant edited to credit Scott Paris: Hey, we should get a special boot for coon kicking!
Someone else: It would still stink up the van.
Someone else edited to credit yours truly: We can just tie it to the top of the van for next time.
Logan: There will not be a next time.
Scott Paris: Wait, who wants to be next?
Logan: There will NOT be a next time.
Me: Katie!
Katie: Me? What? No!
Logan: There will NOT be a next time!

Maybe if we bribed him with cute possum pictures?

D'aaaawwwww.

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6 thoughts on “Stinkin’ Coon”

  1. Dear Blogging Betsy,
    I don’t find your life boring at all. But then maybe because my life looks about the same… minus coon kicking. Speaking of coons, did you inform these “I want to kick a dead coon for the heck of it” people that you have actually treed 3 very live coons? I think that should give you more points than simply kicking roadkill.

    (randomly breaking out into song)
    I came upon a roadkill coon
    A sorrowful sight to behold.
    I tapped it gently with my toe
    and then the smell did grow!

    1. That’s catchy…

      Yeah, I can believe Betsy treed some coons. I would run up a tree too if I saw her. She’s terrifying! Tremulous coons scurry hither and fro and yonder at mere mention of her name. Betsy the fearsome coon catcher. They teach their children to hide from her. They fear her far too much for her to be only a legend. (Only not really).

  2. First, when did you two tree any coons? Secondly, did you share Ben’s possum stories with them? There is no such thing as a cute possum. Thirdly, Did you sing them a possum song, such as “5 pounds of possum”? And Lastly, that was really funny. I love you!

  3. “Cute possum” is the epitome of an oxymoron.
    Telling other people that you treed 3 or 4 coons could very easily be taken the wrong way, by some people, or be extremely impressive to some others.
    This church evidently attracts “interesting” people!
    And, yes, we would love to hear about the normal days, because you would tell us about them in some fashion other than normal!

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