On work days the alarm clocks insult my limp body, screeching in tandem, one after the other, til I turn them both off. As soundly as I sleep I can't trust just one to get me out of bed. When I heard a same sound over and over this morning, and realized what caused it, I dug for more cover, and pushed myself deeper into the bed. An early riser next door was steadily hammering new siding onto his house.

About when I wanted to tell him what I thought of being awakened on my day off, I looked at the clocks, and realized how late it was. I dived back under the cover long enough to begin the day with my Lord, and stretch tired legs and arms, before getting out of that cozy bed. About when my feet touched floor, the phone rang, crowding my morning more. Do I start the coffee, hurry to the bathroom, or pick up the phone first? Why does life feel so much like it's an unfinished dance?

On this wonderful day the Lord gives, I could so enjoy it more if I didn't go so fast, a habit I think I acquired while raising my children. Every day there was much to do, but they've been grown for years. So why do I still do things so fast? I think it can only be habit, and getting caught up in the emotions of whatever's coming our way.

For days I've struggled with this wild (pardon the pun) situation about the fox. Spent time on the phone getting information, and trying to decide what's best to do about it. Most of the animal removal places won't deal with it. Another wanted what I thought was expensive, for them to only set up a scent that would make the fox go away. It does make sense, if you want something to leave to not feed or water it. So I was careful with that, but to eat my supper in the car, so the fox doesn't smell food, well,I mean, even I can see that's a bit reactory.

I was sitting here using the computer, and began hearing loud moving about, and then heard loud chewing. I couldn't decide if it might be chewing a hole in the foundation of the house, or did it find some fourlegged fast food somewhere, and decided to eat it here. I thought it was loud, and got scared, and turned off the computer, and grabbed my purse and shoes, and something to sleep in, and hurried to my son's house, where I had to be around his cats. But it was be afraid of the fox, or whatever it is, or take a chance on sneezing into the night. I quickly swallowed an allergy pill, and drove right over there.

Since then I've talked with some neighbors who have told me fox and skunks have hung out here. One said a previous owner put out lots of melon rinds and fruits, that the skunks soon came around for. But I've not seen those blck and white critters since once last year. I think the fox may have something to do with that.

I realize even dealing with wild ones like that can wear thin when we talk of it. Eventually it isn't the best conversational fare. Being allergic was making the work scene so bad. It's a challenge, making some sense of doctor's telephone orders they reel off too quickly, about when you feel like you could scratch your own eyes out.

Another nurse who works on the Alzheimer unit is also allergic to cats. She got an electrical plug-in machine, and brings it to work to use. This weekend she let me try it, and it does makea a big difference.

Today my son soaked rags with ammonia, like the wildlife person said to, and put it in the place the animal goes in and out of. Tonight I've not heard noises, no chewing, none of that. Will check it again in the morning. Perhaps there's still a chance I can learn to deal with whatever God sends without feeling I need to do a Saint Vitus's dance.