Author: Sarah Joy Albrecht

Yesterday, just 30 minutes after Tabitha fell 6 feet from a tree onto her belly, Aiden came ran into the house and was screaming, “A squirrel bit me!”

He said, “I was staring at the squirrel, and he was staring at me.”

Apparently, squirrels don’t like to be stared down.

Moments after hanging up with the pediatrician, concluding that Tabitha would be okay without medical intervention, I called them right back to say we’d be bringing in Aiden!

The squirrel walked over and brushed its tail against Aiden’s leg, he said. Aiden picked up his foot to back away. The squirrel “was very strong” and bit the bottom of Aiden’s bare foot. Aiden apparently punched the squirrel in the face, and the squirrel scampered back to the tree. (I didn’t find out this detail until I was putting Aiden into bed later that night, and he said, “Did you find the squirrel mom? I punched it so hard that I think I killed it!”)

There was a little bit of blood on the bottom of Aiden’s foot, and a small puncture, a tad smaller than a pencil eraser. I poured rubbing alcohol over it, and then scrubbed it with a alcohol-doused paper towel.

Tom called in from the airport – he was coming home from being overseas – just as we were leaving to go to the pediatrician.

Grandma Becky met us at the pediatrician’s to sit with the other kids in the lobby while I took Aiden to the exam room.

Dr. John evaluated the wound and then looked up information about animal bites and rabies. The “Red Book” said to contact the local health department to assess the risk for the biting animal to see if there were cases of rabies being reported for that species. However, the Chester County Health Department was closed for the evening, and without enough information to make a decision as for what to do next, yet still within the 24 hours needed to immunize Aiden if necessary, we were sent home.

That evening, I called our pastor and asked him to please pray that Tom and I would have wisdom as we made decisions regarding Aiden’s health.

Pastor Strawbridge recommended that we call a fellow member of the congregation, Dr. Knepley who is the State Veterinarian for Pennsylvania, to help us have a broader perspective of the situation in order to make a more informed decision.

Knepley handles over 400 cases of animal rabies each year. When I described the behavior of the squirrel, he said that it was actually “normal behavior” for a squirrel who felt threatened – a warning bite. A rabid squirrel, however, would have to be pried off it’s victim as it would have continued the fight, quite viciously.

Squirrels rarely are rabid. Their treetop habitat is somewhat isolated from other animals and they are on a different sleep schedule than nocturnal animals that typically carry rabies, such as raccoons and skunks.

While Chester County notoriously led the nation for the number of confirmed rabies cases in 1988 and continues to have a significantly elevated number of rabies cases in comparison to other parts of the world, there has only been one known case of a squirrel having rabies in all of Pennsylvania – seven years ago. According to Knepley, a man was attacked while raking his yard. The squirrel was so relentless in its attack that neighbors had to pull the squirrel off of the poor guy. This is the characteristic behavior of a rabid squirrel – not one who backs down at the punch of a four year old.

Knepley also said that rabies was a “fragile virus” and that soap and water would likely kill it – but I practically “pickled” any germs on Aiden’s foot, even ones from seven days ago, by putting cleaning it with rubbing alcohol.

The Chester County Health Department returned our pediatrician’s call the next day. They that they had no cases of rabid squirrels to report. Dr. John said it seemed unlikely that the squirrel had rabies and she left the decision up to us saying if we chose the rabies vaccinations, that would be okay with her, too.

There have only been a few cases of people surviving rabies, said Knepley. All but one resulted in the person being reduced to a vegetative state. The least effected survivor, a little girl, had loss of some motor skills, but miraculously was otherwise was unscathed. She had been administered the vaccine just before the onset of the rabies symptoms. It was not soon enough to prevent the virus. At the first signs of rabies, she was put into a medically induced coma to prevent convulsions – and with rabies, I’ve read that people can die from the convulsions alone.

Rabies doesn’t always show up right away, either. Here’s a story of a man from the 1908 NY Times who was barely scratched by the tooth of a rabid puppy, and didn’t show signs of having rabies until nine months later, just before he died of the virus.

The decision isn’t one we took lightly. I begged God for wisdom, as this situation certainly is out of my league. Three experts – the Health Department, The official State Veterinarian of Pennsylvania and our Pediatrician – gave the same, clear answer: “We are leaving the decision up to you, but if it were my child, I would not immunize them with this scenario.” (The pain and side effects from the shot are apparently not something one would wish on another human being – although I have heard that an entire family in our church had to be vaccinated because a rabid bat was found in their home, and I have not asked how they tolerated the vaccine.)

And so, I am praying that the decision to not immunize Aiden – because alcohol was applied to the wound immediately, because it is extremely rare that squirrels carry rabies, and because the behavior of the squirrel was “normal” for a squirrel who felt threatened – was the right one.

We are praying that if there is a rabid squirrel in our neighborhood, that it would show up – as sick animals are quite noticeable to discerning humans – and that we would know in time to immunize Aiden if necessary.

While I’m mostly hopeful, I am admittedly still a little frightened. Death from rabies is unspeakably horrific.

As bizarre as this story may seem, I wasn’t surprised that it happened to my curious son. He is quite daring, with no sense of danger whatsoever. When he was little, we nicknamed him “Danger Mouse”. I love him very much.

What can I say? I miss my Tom.

When the wisps of a neighbor’s cigar, combined in the spring breeze with the lilac blossoms and freshly cut grass (because everyone was restfully mowing their lawns) reached my nose this Sunday afternoon, it made my heart just ache for my husband.

Rearranging Tom’s cigar collection backfired as a “fix”. After carefully examining the cigars for several minutes, I caved. I needed more. I couldn’t resist lighting one up and smoking it for myself.

I chose a Macanudo Gold Label, as it had the mildest scent and because it was smallest in my husband’s humidor. My guess is that it was just a little over five inches in length. (While my hands are not dainty, they are characteristically petite.)

Even without much to compare it to, as this was only the second cigar I’ve ever had in my life, I know this was a good cigar. It burned evenly and slowly. The feel of the wrapper was smooth to the touch. Part of me wanted to almost take a bite out of it, it’s texture was so pleasing to my tongue. It’s golden color was naturally beautiful.

The flavor was soothing. Mouthwateringly classic, even. Perfectly woodsy with a spicy undertone, yet somehow sweet like the pleasant scent of distant flowers in a quiet forest. Pleasant, but not overpowering. If it wasn’t so late in the day, I would have gladly shared my palate with a cup of black coffee. I think the contrast of the coffee would have made the tobacco taste even sweeter.

As I smoked, the fragrance evoked warm memories of sitting on the front porch with Tom – what I was truly craving, even more than the smell or taste of a cigar. For this, there is no such thing as a satisfying “fix”.

When Tom called me tonight, he mentioned something about having some wine with dinner. Wine isn’t something Tom usually orders. Between my cigar and his wine – swapping each other’s vices at the same time unaware – I’d like to think we got to share a moment together this evening after all.

BTW: A slightly altered version of this blog entry can be found here.

This is the most delicious ice cream I’ve ever tasted.

Buy some.
Eat some.
Share some.

Serve a generous scoop in the middle of a cold, over-sized plate, perhaps garnished with a sprig of mint. Eat it slowly and deliberately, cutting through the cream with your spoon, just one bite ahead of its melting.

There is something romantic about this flavor – sweet, subtly delicate, like a slow and lippy passionate kiss that leaves you wanting more.

Get a babysitter, and take your sweetheart out after dinner to chase the sunset together. Bring a pint of honey ice cream, two spoons, a full tank of gas and some back roads, and see where the experience takes you.

From the Häagen-Dazs website:

Rich, sumptuous waves of cream mingle with evocative glimpses of tropical honey. The rare and delicate texture of the Lehua honey is entirely different from any honey you’ve ever tasted.

Lehua honey comes from the remote volcanic slopes of Mauna Loa on the Big Island of Hawaii. There, honeybees gather nectar from the Ohia tree’s fragrant Lehua blossoms. These beautiful red flowers are the unique flavor source for this rare, amber honey.

Last night, my brave husband decided to teach me to drive a *standard transmission using his nice shiny black Mazda 3.

(Honestly, I much prefer a motorcycle. The gear-shifting pattern is more intuitive to me.)

While I didn’t cause any traffic accidents, I did have a few moments where I felt like I wasn’t sure what to do next – how to choose the correct gear from neutral when coasting around a corner, for example.

I also stalled at a green light. Behind me was a silver car whose driver was communicating their lack of patience by revving the engine. I started the car and made a second attempt. As I was getting ready to take off, I noticed in the rear view that car was trying to go around me – and there wasn’t much room for this. It made me nervous. I pulled my foot off the clutch too fast and stalled the car again.

My husband calmly reached up and turned the rear view mirror so that I couldn’t see the car behind me. I was able to start the car and take off. Once we got going, he straightened the mirror.

As I was crossing through the intersection, the driver behind me decided that I was too slow in the takeoff and he gunned his engine and zoomed around me before the nose of my car passed under the light. Given that there was on-coming traffic and I would have been stuck in the middle if someone would have hit him as they blindly came over the crest of the hill, it was a little frightening.

This morning, as I was thinking about this incident – which happened in the span of a minute or less! – it underscored for me how difficult it is to focus on the task at hand when we are concerned about people who are watching. Fear of man is quite a stumbling block!

Colossians 3:23-24
Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.

Proverbs 29:24-26
He who is a partner with a thief hates his own life;
He hears the oath but tells nothing.
The fear of man brings a snare,
But he who trusts in the LORD will be exalted.
Many seek the ruler’s favor,
But justice for man comes from the LORD.

Galatians 1:10
For am I now seeking the favor of men, or of God? Or am I striving to please men? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a bond-servant of Christ.

*The first time I attempted to drive a standard transmission was my Dad’s boxy white Chevy Blazer, complete with custom Navy blue pinstripes, he purchased from my uncle.

On the FIRST day he officially owned the Blazer, which, prior to this moment, had never missed an oil change, tune-up or wax job, my dad asked me to “start the car for him” – something I had always done with our Suburban.

The shiny Blazer was parked in first gear. While I was told to “press down on the clutch” when I switched on the ignition, I didn’t realize that I practically had to STAND on it in order to get it to fully engage.

The truck bucked violently and repeatedly crashed into our cinder-block apartment. Dad came running outside, sort of shaking his fists and flailing his arms at the same time, while he screamed bewildered nonsense.

The second time I attempted, my dad was actually IN the car with me, and we took the now-damaged Blazer out on some Indiana back roads. Ahead of me, lighted cross arms went down to block a frequently-used railroad track. Dad had me drive around them.

I recall the exchange went something like,

Me: “I can’t stop in time!”
Dad: “Weave through the cross arms!”
Me: “What if I stall on the tracks?”
Dad: “Then the train will hit us and we’ll die!”

Obviously, we’re both still alive on this crazy planet.

Since then, my friend Elly once allowed me to spin her car around in a K-Mart parking lot, but other than that, sans the Eliminator, my uncoordinated self has stuck to automatic transmissions.

Random Resources

Mechanical Stuff:

How Stuff Works: Manual Transmission
How Motorcycles Work

Mental Stuff:

When People Are Big and God is Small

I’m reading the Husband-Coached Childbirth for my Teacher Training Class. (Lots of homework due, so little time!)

The book is excellent for anyone who is preparing to give birth or who has an interest in the topic of natural birth.

Here’s a memorable quote from chapter 7, “The Coach’s Training Rules”:

“Parents come in pairs. If you think the only task you have as a parent is to get your wife pregnant, you’re going to be like the farmer who thinks all there is to farming is planting seeds. You will harvest only the weeds of resentment to your passivity. You are poorly prepared for parenthood and have yet to recognize your responsibilities….

Maybe I’m old fashioned, but don’t kid yourself, the hand that rocks the cradle still rules the world, and always will. Motherly women and fatherly men acting as wholesome symbols of strength and righteousness in a family setting of mutual love and respect continue to be essential to progress in any civilization.

The reaction your wife has to her pregnancy and the birth of your child will reflect on the relationship between mother and child forever after. Will she look upon childbearing as a horrifying ordeal that ruined her figure and seared her soul? … Or, will she joyfully share with you even the little nuisances involved and thank you for getting her pregnant and bless her God for the privilege of being a woman and of giving birth?…

You are going to live with this woman “until death do us part.” How rich, full and meaningful that life will be is very much dependent upon your ability as a participant in parenthood. This does not exclude but takes precedence over the golf games, pool hall, poker game, CD player, computer, etc. Lets get on with it.”

(Preach it, brother!) :)

From Ron Paul’s Texas Straight Talk, a weekly column:

“Last month, the House amended the 1978 Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act (FISA) to expand the government’s ability to monitor our private communications. This measure, if it becomes law, will result in more warrantless government surveillance of innocent American citizens.

Though some opponents claimed that the only controversial part of this legislation was its grant of immunity to telecommunications companies, there is much more to be wary of in the bill. In the House version, Title II, Section 801, extends immunity from prosecution of civil legal action to people and companies including any provider of an electronic communication service, any provider of a remote computing service, “any other communication service provider who has access to wire or electronic communications,” any “parent, subsidiary, affiliate, successor, or assignee” of such company, any “officer, employee, or agent” of any such company, and any “landlord, custodian, or other person who may be authorized or required to furnish assistance.” The Senate version goes even further by granting retroactive immunity to such entities that may have broken the law in the past.

The new FISA bill allows the federal government to compel many more types of companies and individuals to grant the government access to our communications without a warrant. The provisions in the legislation designed to protect Americans from warrantless surveillance are full of loopholes and ambiguities. There is no blanket prohibition against listening in on all American citizens without a warrant.
Continue reading “Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act”