For sale: one rattlesnake

My little cousins called DH and I a couple of days ago. They are near and dear to my heart (as is all of my family), but they call in spurts. The littlest guy, D.J., calls about five times a day for a couple of days, then won't call for a week or so.

This time they were so excited they could hardly speak. The only punctuation in their speech was exclamation points.

"Guess what guess what we caught a rattlesnake it's a little one we're going to give it to the nature conservatory or the zoo or something we had a gun but we caught it isn't that cool!"

"You caught a what?"

"A rattlesnake he's little and we have him in the 4-runner!"

"Wait. You have a rattlesnake....in your car. Is it alive?"

"Yeah yeah he's alive and in the 4-runner in a sack in a container and we caught him!"

"Why didn't you kill him?" (My apologies to you P.E.T.A. people out there, but my cousins are young. I would prefer the snake they apparently have in their car be dead. It would have little qualms about making them dead. Plus, there is not a Rattlesnakes for the Ethical Treatment of Humans to protect my cousins.)

"We had a gun and we were gonna shoot it 'cause it was gonna bite us but it was cold and slow so we caught it and now we have it and it has two rattles on its tail and big teeth isn't that cool!"

"So let me make sure I understand this. You two were out somewhere with a gun. You found a rattlesnake. It tried to bite you. So instead of killing it, you caught it, and now it's in a sack in your car. And it's still alive."

"Yeah but dad was with us he had the gun it's okay and we're taking it to the conservatory or we could send it to you do you want it we can mail it hey dad can we mail it to Q!"

"Oh dear Lord."

I called my aunt to make sure they weren't pulling my leg. They weren't. They actually have a real live rattlesnake in their SUV. I told them to kill it or give it to the conservatory. I also may have told them it was illegal to mail a rattlesnake to me. Rattlesnakes and explosives cannot cross state lines.

*Snake image is not mine.  It is from http://sdssnake.com/Rat.htm  Thank you!

One of my favorite cousins graduated high school this past weekend. She was adorable, all red curls and green eyes. (Good looks run in the family, along with humility and stubbornness.) She has a temper to match her hair, and I love her for it. I'm not sure what the rest of us have for an excuse. Let's blame our Irish genes.

The family was all gathered up (for the most part) to watch her graduate. My friend Bradley has a habit of saying "deuces" at the end of his podcast. I find this hilarious; I have no good reason why. I decided to take this opportunity to teach my little cousins this invaluable piece of pop culture. Daniel now knows exactly what to do when he hears the phrase "throw 'em up". His father is less than proud of me.

We came, we cried, we ate

Last week was a tough one -

Saturday started with one of my favorite breakfasts: biscuits and gravy. I can make a pretty mean biscuit - light, flaky, buttery. I can cook sausage with the best of them.

I make terrible gravy.

I know it doesn't seem that hard. Cook the sausage. Make the roux. Add the milk. Stir and cook. Enjoy the deliciousness. Except when I try to make gravy, there is far less deliciousness and far more squirrel food. Luckily for me, I was with my grandma, and she makes amazing gravy. My arteries are so pleased.

I graduated Saturday afternoon (you may call me Dr. Q now), then we headed back home to prepare for the funeral.

We had a cousins' slumber party one night. We met at my aunt and uncle's. L. and I attempted to make cheese dip. (I was unaware that it was a recipe requiring timing worthy of MacGyver. It was easier, however, than the subsequent scraping of the cheese off the microwave. Velveeta is sticky.) We then proceeded to eat an entire tray of apples and caramel in about thirty minutes. Stayed up late, watching movies, talking, getting pictures together for the memorial service. It was bittersweet.

E. and D. came over too (S.'s little brothers, our youngest cousins). D. fell asleep in my lap holding pup. Unluckily for him, someone had been feeding pup table scraps. She had some seriously smelly GI issues. He shouldn't have hugged her that hard, that's all I'm saying.

We took the boys flyfishing, saw my little brother get commissioned (Congratulations Second Lieutenant), said our last good-byes to S., and sent L. off to prom. It was a wonderful terrible week.

Seth

I have seen more than the average person's share of death. I think it is fair; not everyone can handle death on a near daily basis. Some deaths hit you harder than others though.

My cousin Seth passed away today. He was barely twenty years old, just back from a tour of duty in Iraq. He was tall and thin, sarcastic, fun, and trying hard to get his life back on track. He loved his family. He was a hard worker. He loved the military. He was a good kid, a good man.

I remember when he first got back from basic training. He was going to be a gunner, so he had taken extra shooting courses. The family gathered up at Christmas, and we were shooting clays in the back field. He missed all but two of them. We teased him that it was easier to hit targets with cannons. He took it good-naturedly, like he always did.

He will be missed.