Oh, hey, look. A livejournal!
Just got back from school for the summer. Will have a sketchdump and deadthing list forthright (ie, maybe in a couple days, if I feel like it). Among the dead things that I found and secretly stored in my room without my roommates' knowledge - three and a half frogs in various states of decomposition (all bones to mostly bones); a really big fish head with teeth in it; tons of dragonflies; a stick with barnacles on it; a gecko. I didn't get ANY birds this semester, compared to fall semester's plethora, but I was able to do a fun cat dissection and drawing project.
Just got back from school for the summer. Will have a sketchdump and deadthing list forthright (ie, maybe in a couple days, if I feel like it). Among the dead things that I found and secretly stored in my room without my roommates' knowledge - three and a half frogs in various states of decomposition (all bones to mostly bones); a really big fish head with teeth in it; tons of dragonflies; a stick with barnacles on it; a gecko. I didn't get ANY birds this semester, compared to fall semester's plethora, but I was able to do a fun cat dissection and drawing project.
shadow
whorling over
sun-bleached seas, drowning
in molten wax and youthful dreams
o breathless Icarus--
I know
Pics of things I picked up at school, and some stuff that I've simply not shared before. The first section is from my college pickings.
I go to school in Pensacola -- is anyone here from there? I called a local Petland to ask about what they did with their dead stock (there was a very big Merrell's chameleon that was obviously on his way out). They wouldn't let me have the chameleon, but I found out that somebody else had called the day before asking about their dead things and so I've been wondering if there's another FHBer running around there. :D
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I go to school in Pensacola -- is anyone here from there? I called a local Petland to ask about what they did with their dead stock (there was a very big Merrell's chameleon that was obviously on his way out). They wouldn't let me have the chameleon, but I found out that somebody else had called the day before asking about their dead things and so I've been wondering if there's another FHBer running around there. :D
( Read more...Collapse )
I'm home.
This was my first semester back to school in a year and a half and it was a blast. Because two of my necessary art classes weren't being offered this semester, I had room for some fun classes and those proved to be my favorite -- I've made friends with those teachers, too. I took an advanced bio class, which was awesome. I'll be collecting bones and things to take back next semester for my teacher and I'll be learning how to operate a salt water tank so I can help work the one at school. I also took Creative Writing instead of American Lit; and kayaking. So now I'm tan(-er) and have big arm muscles. *flexes*
Naturally, I found dead things.
Anyways, I got home from school Wednesday night, then took off Thursday morning with some pals for Alabama to help out a family whose home and work had been obliterated by the tornado. We got back last night. The destruction there was surreal and immense. There would be huge patches of no damage and then a line a half-mile long or more wide and a several miles long running up and down the mountains. Just unbelievable.
This summer will be pretty busy. We've got a trip to Indiana planned, and then PWI again. I'll be going to Costa Rica with some of the PWI crew for a week at the end of June and then I'll have the rest of the summer free.
This was my first semester back to school in a year and a half and it was a blast. Because two of my necessary art classes weren't being offered this semester, I had room for some fun classes and those proved to be my favorite -- I've made friends with those teachers, too. I took an advanced bio class, which was awesome. I'll be collecting bones and things to take back next semester for my teacher and I'll be learning how to operate a salt water tank so I can help work the one at school. I also took Creative Writing instead of American Lit; and kayaking. So now I'm tan(-er) and have big arm muscles. *flexes*
Naturally, I found dead things.
Anyways, I got home from school Wednesday night, then took off Thursday morning with some pals for Alabama to help out a family whose home and work had been obliterated by the tornado. We got back last night. The destruction there was surreal and immense. There would be huge patches of no damage and then a line a half-mile long or more wide and a several miles long running up and down the mountains. Just unbelievable.
This summer will be pretty busy. We've got a trip to Indiana planned, and then PWI again. I'll be going to Costa Rica with some of the PWI crew for a week at the end of June and then I'll have the rest of the summer free.
The snow has finally started to fall. We've got maybe an inch so far and it's supposed to snow all night and tomorrow. (there is so much snow, in fact, that it's floated all the way to our front door, which is under a pretty big overhang) *crosses fingers*
I've a few new sketches. ( Down! Down!Collapse )
I've a few new sketches. ( Down! Down!Collapse )
( not allowed to watch the Olympics: shows off too much of the male physiqueCollapse )
I know when Finny's dreaming. He snorts and his toes wiggle in his sleep.
I know when Finny's dreaming. He snorts and his toes wiggle in his sleep.
My pal, Josh Edmonds at Project:Ignite and Pulse Pro-Life Ministries wrote this tonight.
"Every Wednesday I have a meeting out in Loganville, Ga. with a networking group for local businesses. As I head back every morning, there's no construction to lengthen the drive. Grayson city schools are already in session. There is no special events going on at the fair grounds that I pass by. The hospital traffic is usually moderate. I turn right onto Lawrenceville-Suwanee Rd. and head towards my office in Suwanee, and downtown Lawrenceville is quiet enough. There is nothing especially notable about the 45-minute commute back to my office in Suwanee; as there isn't for anyone driving through that area of Metro Atlanta.
This is the problem.
Sitting quietly in the Atlanta suburb of Lawrenceville on Lawrenceville-Suwanee Rd., connected to a cigar shop and a Five Guys Burgers & Fries restaurant, located just around the corner from the Gwinnett Medial Center, is the Gwinnett County office of Planned Parenthood.
Many people passing by may not even know that on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:00am to 6:00pm, and Saturdays from 9:00am to 1:00pm, like clockwork, children are being robbed of life in the most inhumane in
unjust manner. No trial, no jury, no defense for themselves, they are stuffed out with a pill that prevents them from receiving the necessary nutrients from their sanctuary - the womb.
Many of the women inside those walls may not know as they are being peddled out like lab rats to surgical locations of Planned Parenthood that they are being referred for the single most destructive act to be inflicted on other humans. That they will be allowing a "doctor" to murder their child and scar them physically and mentally for the rest of their lives.
The fact that many go without any knowledge of the atrocities committed in silence at houses or horror like this one is absolutely atrocious, and worthy of the world's sorrow. These people go on in ignorance and are deprived of offering a voice for the innocent, and even unknowingly allow murder.
But there is a cause to this atrocity that permits a holocaust on American soil.
I drive by this abortion mill at least once a week, and without fail, there is nothing exceptional about it's presence. There is no indicator to passersby that they are passing a graveyard. It looks just like any other storefront in the lot.
I go to church every Sunday, and I have attended numerous churches over the years in different capacities of leadership and as an attendee, and I have never once heard a sermon about justice for the innocent or about standing for the unborn.
The reason that Planned Parenthood sets up shop in a location like in Lawrenceville is astounding because that particular location is within 5 miles of 7 of the largest and most active churches in the entire county. Yet, without fail, I pass by this location as if I were passing a McDonalds.
This is the worst of the atrocity: the largest demographic of people that know what happens in that building every since week and all of the lives that are lost each day are within walking distance, and yet it thrives.
The very basis of the Pro-Life movement is in the Bible. Jeremiah 1:5 teaches that God knits each of us together in our mother's womb, and that He knows us even before then. Psalm 139:13-16 goes even further by saying that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, and that God has planned the days of our lives even before we were born. Psalm 78:5-6 expresses how important the unborn are to God. Our uniqueness and value as a human life is in the foundational truth that God has created us and that He is ordained us to have life. When that life is taken away, it is an abomination to God and dishonors His plans and the intricacies of the works of His hand.
The very basis of Pro-Life activism is in the Bible as well. Proverbs 31:8-9 teaches us to speak up for those who are weak, for those who cannot defend themselves, and to defend those individuals, whether they be the poor, the needy, or the unborn. The Bible goes on to say in Genesis 9:6, Exodus 20:13, Deuteronomy 27:25, and Proverbs 6:16-19 that God demands justice for the innocent and condemns the shedding of innocent blood.
The atrocity is that the church, who bases their faith and doctrines (while loosely at times) on the teachings of the Bible have forsaken these teachings that demand justice for the unborn and separated themselves apart from ministries that serve the unborn.
The church has betrayed the unborn and all those that stand for them.
By separating themselves from the Pro-Life movement, the church has allowed the pro-murder agenda to gain significant ground in America. When the church started distinguishing Pro-Life activism separately from the work of the church it allowed the Pro-Life movement to become a band of radicals that stand against progressivism.
The organization and size of the church makes it arguably one of the largest institutions on the planet, accounting the Christ-based denominations of Christianity ("denominations" that deny the perfection and deity of Christ, the unity of the Godhead, the sovereignty of God, etc, to not count as Christian denominations). This makes whatever the church stands for a stance of a global majority. However, the exclusitory nature of the 21st century church has allowed Biblical stances like justice for the unborn, sanctity of marriage, sanctity of the spiritual offices, and moral purity minority issues. Meaning that those who stand for these Biblical principles stand alone as a minority of the nation, without the backing of the church.
The reasons for the segregation between the church and the Pro-Life movement seem to root in the same cause of the segregation between the church and other social Biblical practices mentioned above: when you stand for a God that takes sides, you alienate people. The church is unwilling to do this because when you alienate people, you limit your attendance (and tithe) to those that stand for the same things that the church stands for. Thus, if a church takes a lackadaisical stance to moral purity, holds no stance on the commands regarding the institution of marriage and against divorce, distinguishes a separation between the Pro-Life movement and the church body, and teaches about personal edification vs. establishment of the Kingdom, you open the doors to anyone who is looking to feel good about themselves but doesn't want the responsibility of rules. Then, just like at a country club, the attendees go up and income increases as the church targets the community with intrinsic outreach (services that feel good to do, but don't necessarily cost you anything - while still drawing people into the church. Take, for example, a social dinner where tickets benefit a homeless shelter, or hosting an event for Halloween or Christmas that is free to the community).
Plagued today by financial and sexual controversy, the church is hopeless as an institution capable of bringing any significant change to the nation.
Selfishness and greed have dug deep into the heart of the church, and the cost has been too much to bear.
This Christmas season, while churches across America will be delivering encouraging Christmas programs, hiring Santa's for free pictures to community children, and hosting expensive Christmas dinners, the unborn will continue to die. They will be hidden, exploited, and murdered. There will be no justice for them. They will never have a voice. They will be debated in classrooms and committee hearings as to whether their blood has any worth. But they will still die. While the people commanded by their Creator to defend them open new XBOX Kinect's and Lego play sets on Christmas morning, they will be forsaken. They will be forgotten. While churches approve new budgets to build fitness centers and cafes in the church building, tax payer money will fund the death of 1.46 million children. In an act of unspeakable betrayal, the church will never mention their persecution, they will not remember their names, and they will continue to allow graveyards to be built in their backyard without so much as a raised eyebrow at what happens behind those doors.
Abortion will never end until righteous Americans stand up, adopt the doctrines of the Bible, stand for justice, and be a voice for the innocent.
America is cursed because of the innocent blood that stains her hands, God has turned His ear away from the prayers of a nation, and His self-proclaimed people are to blame."
"Every Wednesday I have a meeting out in Loganville, Ga. with a networking group for local businesses. As I head back every morning, there's no construction to lengthen the drive. Grayson city schools are already in session. There is no special events going on at the fair grounds that I pass by. The hospital traffic is usually moderate. I turn right onto Lawrenceville-Suwanee Rd. and head towards my office in Suwanee, and downtown Lawrenceville is quiet enough. There is nothing especially notable about the 45-minute commute back to my office in Suwanee; as there isn't for anyone driving through that area of Metro Atlanta.
This is the problem.
Sitting quietly in the Atlanta suburb of Lawrenceville on Lawrenceville-Suwanee Rd., connected to a cigar shop and a Five Guys Burgers & Fries restaurant, located just around the corner from the Gwinnett Medial Center, is the Gwinnett County office of Planned Parenthood.
Many people passing by may not even know that on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:00am to 6:00pm, and Saturdays from 9:00am to 1:00pm, like clockwork, children are being robbed of life in the most inhumane in
unjust manner. No trial, no jury, no defense for themselves, they are stuffed out with a pill that prevents them from receiving the necessary nutrients from their sanctuary - the womb.
Many of the women inside those walls may not know as they are being peddled out like lab rats to surgical locations of Planned Parenthood that they are being referred for the single most destructive act to be inflicted on other humans. That they will be allowing a "doctor" to murder their child and scar them physically and mentally for the rest of their lives.
The fact that many go without any knowledge of the atrocities committed in silence at houses or horror like this one is absolutely atrocious, and worthy of the world's sorrow. These people go on in ignorance and are deprived of offering a voice for the innocent, and even unknowingly allow murder.
But there is a cause to this atrocity that permits a holocaust on American soil.
I drive by this abortion mill at least once a week, and without fail, there is nothing exceptional about it's presence. There is no indicator to passersby that they are passing a graveyard. It looks just like any other storefront in the lot.
I go to church every Sunday, and I have attended numerous churches over the years in different capacities of leadership and as an attendee, and I have never once heard a sermon about justice for the innocent or about standing for the unborn.
The reason that Planned Parenthood sets up shop in a location like in Lawrenceville is astounding because that particular location is within 5 miles of 7 of the largest and most active churches in the entire county. Yet, without fail, I pass by this location as if I were passing a McDonalds.
This is the worst of the atrocity: the largest demographic of people that know what happens in that building every since week and all of the lives that are lost each day are within walking distance, and yet it thrives.
The very basis of the Pro-Life movement is in the Bible. Jeremiah 1:5 teaches that God knits each of us together in our mother's womb, and that He knows us even before then. Psalm 139:13-16 goes even further by saying that we are fearfully and wonderfully made, and that God has planned the days of our lives even before we were born. Psalm 78:5-6 expresses how important the unborn are to God. Our uniqueness and value as a human life is in the foundational truth that God has created us and that He is ordained us to have life. When that life is taken away, it is an abomination to God and dishonors His plans and the intricacies of the works of His hand.
The very basis of Pro-Life activism is in the Bible as well. Proverbs 31:8-9 teaches us to speak up for those who are weak, for those who cannot defend themselves, and to defend those individuals, whether they be the poor, the needy, or the unborn. The Bible goes on to say in Genesis 9:6, Exodus 20:13, Deuteronomy 27:25, and Proverbs 6:16-19 that God demands justice for the innocent and condemns the shedding of innocent blood.
The atrocity is that the church, who bases their faith and doctrines (while loosely at times) on the teachings of the Bible have forsaken these teachings that demand justice for the unborn and separated themselves apart from ministries that serve the unborn.
The church has betrayed the unborn and all those that stand for them.
By separating themselves from the Pro-Life movement, the church has allowed the pro-murder agenda to gain significant ground in America. When the church started distinguishing Pro-Life activism separately from the work of the church it allowed the Pro-Life movement to become a band of radicals that stand against progressivism.
The organization and size of the church makes it arguably one of the largest institutions on the planet, accounting the Christ-based denominations of Christianity ("denominations" that deny the perfection and deity of Christ, the unity of the Godhead, the sovereignty of God, etc, to not count as Christian denominations). This makes whatever the church stands for a stance of a global majority. However, the exclusitory nature of the 21st century church has allowed Biblical stances like justice for the unborn, sanctity of marriage, sanctity of the spiritual offices, and moral purity minority issues. Meaning that those who stand for these Biblical principles stand alone as a minority of the nation, without the backing of the church.
The reasons for the segregation between the church and the Pro-Life movement seem to root in the same cause of the segregation between the church and other social Biblical practices mentioned above: when you stand for a God that takes sides, you alienate people. The church is unwilling to do this because when you alienate people, you limit your attendance (and tithe) to those that stand for the same things that the church stands for. Thus, if a church takes a lackadaisical stance to moral purity, holds no stance on the commands regarding the institution of marriage and against divorce, distinguishes a separation between the Pro-Life movement and the church body, and teaches about personal edification vs. establishment of the Kingdom, you open the doors to anyone who is looking to feel good about themselves but doesn't want the responsibility of rules. Then, just like at a country club, the attendees go up and income increases as the church targets the community with intrinsic outreach (services that feel good to do, but don't necessarily cost you anything - while still drawing people into the church. Take, for example, a social dinner where tickets benefit a homeless shelter, or hosting an event for Halloween or Christmas that is free to the community).
Plagued today by financial and sexual controversy, the church is hopeless as an institution capable of bringing any significant change to the nation.
Selfishness and greed have dug deep into the heart of the church, and the cost has been too much to bear.
This Christmas season, while churches across America will be delivering encouraging Christmas programs, hiring Santa's for free pictures to community children, and hosting expensive Christmas dinners, the unborn will continue to die. They will be hidden, exploited, and murdered. There will be no justice for them. They will never have a voice. They will be debated in classrooms and committee hearings as to whether their blood has any worth. But they will still die. While the people commanded by their Creator to defend them open new XBOX Kinect's and Lego play sets on Christmas morning, they will be forsaken. They will be forgotten. While churches approve new budgets to build fitness centers and cafes in the church building, tax payer money will fund the death of 1.46 million children. In an act of unspeakable betrayal, the church will never mention their persecution, they will not remember their names, and they will continue to allow graveyards to be built in their backyard without so much as a raised eyebrow at what happens behind those doors.
Abortion will never end until righteous Americans stand up, adopt the doctrines of the Bible, stand for justice, and be a voice for the innocent.
America is cursed because of the innocent blood that stains her hands, God has turned His ear away from the prayers of a nation, and His self-proclaimed people are to blame."
I had an exceptional day today. Got my chores done, laundry done, my bugs came in the mail, and Mr P called to ask me over to help skin the fox that he picked up last week (on his way home from my place after spending the afternoon skinning one of the beavers).
I got there later than I intended (I think I take the longest route possible there, but I'm directionally challenged and the long way is the only way I'm sure of), but we got started on it right away. Mr P had the deer and the fox out in his yard all week because it's been so cold there's little chance of decay. I brought my ulu and my dissecting kit and Mr P had out some obsidian flakes he wanted to try skinning with.
After showing off my bugs and a sketch in my new sketchbook, we started with the fox, a gorgeous little grey. It took long to skin her, but in the end, I've got a taxidermy-able pelt. I left the tail bone in and I'll have to skin out the knuckles, but she's whole. We started on the deer after deciding that we really didn't want to skin the whole thing but just enough to get the backstraps. The buck was pretty smelly, but we got the backstraps. The pelt was probably still good, but, eh. (Mr P actually brought the buck by when he came to skin the beaver. I took the ears and tail off of him then -- the weather's been so cold that he hadn't really started to decompose a week later.)
At one point, a neighbor boy saw us and came over. Austin is nine and waited with me while I worked on the fox. He's so smart and really friendly. He and his folks hunt, so he wasn't really phased by us or the carcasses. Mr P had to leave for a little bit to take his daughter to a party (she was dressed up as Giselle from Enchanted -- so pretty!) and Austin hung out with me. He wanted part of the deer skin, so after awhile, I cut a chunk off for him. He wanted the whole side, but I couldn't bring the whole thing home, so the piece is about 8"x5". I've got it salted and I'll tan it tomorrow or Monday. We ended up having icecream just as Mr P came home.
We talked about a lot of things: art, islands, naturalism, dead things, stuff in general.
Mr P ended up giving me a turkey feather and some paint pigments. I'd just been talking to Mom about making my own paints and had never mentioned it to Mr P, so it was even more surprising. I've got bags full of it. So neat!
When I came home, Mom and Dad were playing Mario Kart, which was so funny. :P We're trying to watch Inception, now. I love this movie.
I got there later than I intended (I think I take the longest route possible there, but I'm directionally challenged and the long way is the only way I'm sure of), but we got started on it right away. Mr P had the deer and the fox out in his yard all week because it's been so cold there's little chance of decay. I brought my ulu and my dissecting kit and Mr P had out some obsidian flakes he wanted to try skinning with.
After showing off my bugs and a sketch in my new sketchbook, we started with the fox, a gorgeous little grey. It took long to skin her, but in the end, I've got a taxidermy-able pelt. I left the tail bone in and I'll have to skin out the knuckles, but she's whole. We started on the deer after deciding that we really didn't want to skin the whole thing but just enough to get the backstraps. The buck was pretty smelly, but we got the backstraps. The pelt was probably still good, but, eh. (Mr P actually brought the buck by when he came to skin the beaver. I took the ears and tail off of him then -- the weather's been so cold that he hadn't really started to decompose a week later.)
At one point, a neighbor boy saw us and came over. Austin is nine and waited with me while I worked on the fox. He's so smart and really friendly. He and his folks hunt, so he wasn't really phased by us or the carcasses. Mr P had to leave for a little bit to take his daughter to a party (she was dressed up as Giselle from Enchanted -- so pretty!) and Austin hung out with me. He wanted part of the deer skin, so after awhile, I cut a chunk off for him. He wanted the whole side, but I couldn't bring the whole thing home, so the piece is about 8"x5". I've got it salted and I'll tan it tomorrow or Monday. We ended up having icecream just as Mr P came home.
We talked about a lot of things: art, islands, naturalism, dead things, stuff in general.
Mr P ended up giving me a turkey feather and some paint pigments. I'd just been talking to Mom about making my own paints and had never mentioned it to Mr P, so it was even more surprising. I've got bags full of it. So neat!
When I came home, Mom and Dad were playing Mario Kart, which was so funny. :P We're trying to watch Inception, now. I love this movie.
(Dear Fenrir, I know you don't really like reading about my dead things, and in this post I talk about a couple beavers I was given, but I would be much obliged if you'd at least read the last few paragraphs. <3)
I got a call this morning from my best friend's mom. I was a little concerned at first and then she told me that Mr C had found two roadkill beavers down the road and was wondering if I wanted them. I said yes, naturally, and picked them up on my lunch break. They were medium-sized, about twenty-five pounds, and were identical in size and fur color. They must have been littermates. :<
I was a little hesitant about the beavers, and still am, because I've got two other beaver pelts salted and folded up in a bucket because I can't flesh them they're so fatty! Somebody on FHB gave me some fleshing tips last week and I'm eager to try them out.
I invited Mr P to come over and help me skin them, but his car battery died so we made a raincheck. He'll probably come over this weekened. He's a bone person, and artist, too, and has a very beautiful collection. He's given me some really lovely bones and fossils.
So I put the nicer looking beaver in the freezer and went about skinning the other. Another reason I'm not a terrible fan of beavers is because they all like to come out and die in winter, which makes skinning them a whole other task because my fingers freeze. I got it skinned fairly quickly and by the time I was done, I didn't really care about how nice the pelt looked. I've never put holes in a beaver pelt from skinning before until this one, and it's a rectangular pelt again because I really didn't want to mess with the head. >.> So, one pelt salted and I've got the tail to skin out tomorrow. I want to make a sheathe for my ulu out of the tail.
I'd really like to see a live beaver in person. They're really pretty animals and it'd be a shame if my only experience with them is when they're under my knife.
EDIT: There was a -third- beaver on the same road yesterday, about a mile from where the other two were found. I didn't have a shovel with me and he was right in the median, and a little nasty, so I left him there. Found my shovel and I'm reconsidering scooping him, if just for the paws and tail.
Here's a nice article about beavers - taxonomy, ecological importance, and history. http://www.shawsheen.org/Beavers/Natural_History_of_Beavers/natural_history_of_beavers.html Poor guys.
Fen: I think this is part of the reason why I scoop roadkill and collect bones and wild things. It's all about learning and treasuring the knowledge gained and the creature it came from. I learn about creation and the things that God has made and I can marvel at its construction and build and purpose when it's in my hands or under my knife. Yes, it can be a disgusting thing, and I've been desensitized to a lot of the gore, but I've learned that there is beauty and design even in that. I do censor my posts when I talk about the dead things because I know that as fascinating some of these things are, they really are gross.
Dej: I learn to value not only the animals, but the environment that the animal lives in. As I learn my craft, I am partaking also in the rich history of the aboriginal peoples and my European ancestors. My curiousity and thirst for knowledge and beauty is provoked and so I take to the woods, barefoot and quiet and wide-eyed and I train myself to observe, investigate, and praise God for what He has made. I like to think that God made the beavers just for me so I can find one on the side of the road and appreciate its design; that God makes the squirrels smell wild just so I can delight in it; that God paints the flowers and the clouds and the birds just so I can marvel and sing His praise. So I value the earth and the things in it because I am learning to love God and see His hand in it. More than just environmentally concerned.
Someday, I'll have to write a post about what I think of nebulas. I'd like to think that Jesus has a playdate with me sometime during eternity and we'll go explore the colors of the nebulas and look for hours at what all is living under a fallen log.
I rediscovered the phrase 'natural history' the other day and my world lit up. I am an artist, yes, but at the moment I think I am a natural historian first, or together, or something. I am at my very happiest when I am learning about the Crippled Craneflies and how the frogs sing and why the beaver looks the way it does and the names of the trees and how the rocks were formed and how I make things out of them and then teaching and telling the things I have discovered to anyone who will listen. And sometimes I grieve because I see that right now I don't have that same enthusiasm for my God and Bridegroom.
I think church would be so much better if we all sat outside. There's a little ampitheatre near the marsh in my favorite park that would be perfect for a smallish group.
I've always loved a certain quote by Rudyard Kipling in The Jungle Book, "The motto of all the mongoose family is "Run and find out,'" and I am a true mongoose. But I was considering what it means to be a natural historian and I will add this to my book of sayings: "When you learn, teach; when you teach, you will learn."
I got a call this morning from my best friend's mom. I was a little concerned at first and then she told me that Mr C had found two roadkill beavers down the road and was wondering if I wanted them. I said yes, naturally, and picked them up on my lunch break. They were medium-sized, about twenty-five pounds, and were identical in size and fur color. They must have been littermates. :<
I was a little hesitant about the beavers, and still am, because I've got two other beaver pelts salted and folded up in a bucket because I can't flesh them they're so fatty! Somebody on FHB gave me some fleshing tips last week and I'm eager to try them out.
I invited Mr P to come over and help me skin them, but his car battery died so we made a raincheck. He'll probably come over this weekened. He's a bone person, and artist, too, and has a very beautiful collection. He's given me some really lovely bones and fossils.
So I put the nicer looking beaver in the freezer and went about skinning the other. Another reason I'm not a terrible fan of beavers is because they all like to come out and die in winter, which makes skinning them a whole other task because my fingers freeze. I got it skinned fairly quickly and by the time I was done, I didn't really care about how nice the pelt looked. I've never put holes in a beaver pelt from skinning before until this one, and it's a rectangular pelt again because I really didn't want to mess with the head. >.> So, one pelt salted and I've got the tail to skin out tomorrow. I want to make a sheathe for my ulu out of the tail.
I'd really like to see a live beaver in person. They're really pretty animals and it'd be a shame if my only experience with them is when they're under my knife.
EDIT: There was a -third- beaver on the same road yesterday, about a mile from where the other two were found. I didn't have a shovel with me and he was right in the median, and a little nasty, so I left him there. Found my shovel and I'm reconsidering scooping him, if just for the paws and tail.
Here's a nice article about beavers - taxonomy, ecological importance, and history. http://www.shawsheen.org/Beavers/Natural_History_of_Beavers/natural_history_of_beavers.html Poor guys.
Fen: I think this is part of the reason why I scoop roadkill and collect bones and wild things. It's all about learning and treasuring the knowledge gained and the creature it came from. I learn about creation and the things that God has made and I can marvel at its construction and build and purpose when it's in my hands or under my knife. Yes, it can be a disgusting thing, and I've been desensitized to a lot of the gore, but I've learned that there is beauty and design even in that. I do censor my posts when I talk about the dead things because I know that as fascinating some of these things are, they really are gross.
Dej: I learn to value not only the animals, but the environment that the animal lives in. As I learn my craft, I am partaking also in the rich history of the aboriginal peoples and my European ancestors. My curiousity and thirst for knowledge and beauty is provoked and so I take to the woods, barefoot and quiet and wide-eyed and I train myself to observe, investigate, and praise God for what He has made. I like to think that God made the beavers just for me so I can find one on the side of the road and appreciate its design; that God makes the squirrels smell wild just so I can delight in it; that God paints the flowers and the clouds and the birds just so I can marvel and sing His praise. So I value the earth and the things in it because I am learning to love God and see His hand in it. More than just environmentally concerned.
Someday, I'll have to write a post about what I think of nebulas. I'd like to think that Jesus has a playdate with me sometime during eternity and we'll go explore the colors of the nebulas and look for hours at what all is living under a fallen log.
I rediscovered the phrase 'natural history' the other day and my world lit up. I am an artist, yes, but at the moment I think I am a natural historian first, or together, or something. I am at my very happiest when I am learning about the Crippled Craneflies and how the frogs sing and why the beaver looks the way it does and the names of the trees and how the rocks were formed and how I make things out of them and then teaching and telling the things I have discovered to anyone who will listen. And sometimes I grieve because I see that right now I don't have that same enthusiasm for my God and Bridegroom.
I think church would be so much better if we all sat outside. There's a little ampitheatre near the marsh in my favorite park that would be perfect for a smallish group.
I've always loved a certain quote by Rudyard Kipling in The Jungle Book, "The motto of all the mongoose family is "Run and find out,'" and I am a true mongoose. But I was considering what it means to be a natural historian and I will add this to my book of sayings: "When you learn, teach; when you teach, you will learn."
Comments
Your hawk photo is excellent. Those things are pretty daring, aren't they? I once had one…