The Excavation

As you may know already, if you are a frequent reader of this blog, a year ago all of my goats died. Their deaths were tragic, horrid ordeals that left me overcome with guilt and sadness. Not really. They died, they were buried, end of story.

Or was it.

A few months ago I noticed a hole where I had buried the goat that I buried. It looked as if my dog had been digging in it. I went down to insect it and sure enough it was the exact spot where I had excavated a shallow grave months previous.

Well being of a curious mind I grabbed a nearby stick and started mixing the muddy pool. I began to feel hard bits moving around with the stick and I managed to pry some of them out.

Bones. Lots of em. Vertebrates, ribs, scapulas, trapeziums, tuberosities, humeri, on and on they came. I quickly decided that if I was going to do this, I would do it right.

I ran back to the house, changed into more work like clothes, grabbed a shovel and a bucket and returned to the dig site. My main goal was to find the skull because it's obviously the most recognizable and kick ass part of an animal (Pelvis is the second-most kick ass... get it, cause the pelvis is where the- oh nevermind). I dug and dug and removed countless bones both intact and fragmented but I could not find the skull. I opened new dig sites north and west of the original site to see if they proved to house the skull. I used sonic graphing to make a map of the area. I hired the guy from jurassic park to come and help me but even together we couldn't find the goat skull.

It became apparent to me at this time that the most logical conclusion was that my dog (the first digger) must have removed the skull for her own storage. I abandoned the site taking with me an assortment of some forty bones.

There were only a few places that my dog would have buried a goat skull based on it's size and her previous burial rituals. There was the front plot where we had found a dead cat buried beneath one of our flowers, and the planter box near the garage where she had buried a dead raccoon.

After investigating the the front plot I decided it must be the planter box. I went to it but was disappointed to find no obvious digging.

I was about to give up hope when I noticed that one part of the dirt caught my eye. it seemed to be a bit higher than the rest of the box. I brushed away some of the dirt and to my surprise found a horn!

This was of course a major archeological discovery. Upon more excavation I discovered the rest of the skull underneath the dirt.

As you can see it was very dirty and not very white. I wasn't about to mount a dirty skull on the hood of my car! So i attempted to bleach it. I filled a tub with water, put the skull in and added bleach. Now to those of you considering taxidermy I have one bit of advice. Don't leave skulls in bleach water for weeks on end. The skull will get brittle and won't whiten.

I found this out the hard way, when i finally removed the skull almost a month after inserting it into the bleach bath I found that it was falling part. So brittle you could break parts of the jaw with your hands. Not wanting to keep a brittle skull I threw it into the bushes. Where it remains.



If you have beloved pets you'd like excavated you can hire my services for a medial fee of $135 per hour. I take the upmost care in finding and removing your beloved former critter from it's dusty grave.

Contact Hampton Excavation and Taxidermy at (503) 555-5555, or go to www.hamptonexcavationandtaxidermy.va

Scholarship Competition

This last Friday and Saturday (2 - 10 and 2 - 11) I took part in a scholarship competition at George Fox. The First day was straightforward. An interview and a lecture. pretty basic. Pretty easy, noting to worry about. The trouble started on Saturday.

I was scheduled for a Communication Arts scholarship because that was my intended major. There were four others people in my group and we began with some get to know you questions and questions about why Communication Arts. At the beginning they had said that we would give a speech as part and figured it would be some prompt they'd give us and we'd speak as we went.

Well, it came to the speech, we moved the chairs and the first person (alphabetically) went up to the front. I noticed that he had some paper notes and also that the Professors had not given him a prompt. Needless to say I was nonplussed.

I began to realize to from in my mind that there was a prompt... but I had missed it. Some email or message had eluded me.

I pulled out my phone and nonchalantly shot out a text to my Mom, "Apparently I was supposed to prepare a speech" (my exact words). I couldn't even formulate my own thoughts into some kind of coherent message because I still didn't know the PROMPT!

the first speaker finished and we congratulated him with light applause. I started wondering which person would be next when, "Alright. Joseph." Well damn. Life sucks.

I pulled myself out of my chair and gave an awkward, "I think i missed a memo. Could I perchance have a look upon the question" (not necessarily my exact words). Thje first speaker, Caleb, ghave me the prmopt, it was something like how you wish to grow as a student and as a christian at Fox. A 3 - 5 minute speech. You may use notes. Well double damn. Life sucks more.

I approached the front table as easily as I could and tried to subdue some shakes which I find quite ironic because the Prof had told us not to get too nervous beforehand.

My speech was an incoherent mess. I'd guess it lasted no more than 2 minutes though i felt like I was standing there for half a age.

There was applause when i finished but I couldn't helping thinking how much relief the other contestants must have felt to know i was no longer a threat.

Three more speeches before the end. One girl used notes, the last two memorized speeches and spoke with such confidence and gusto that I couldn't keep eye contact.

The Profs didn't speak to me about my predicament. The other competitors didn't. I wasn't sure if they were avoiding an awkward confrontation or if they had forgotten me. Either way I was left alone.

I don't think i'll major in communication Arts.

BI - Mart

There is nothing in this world filled with such an undeserved sense of authority like a Bi-Mart greeter. The great North-West's pharmacy/ Walgreen's entrance greeter card checkers are the most self righteous wanna be arbiters on earth.
It had seemed that Newberg's own store had lost it's obsessive member checkers since the days of that-one-old-lady-that-always-asked-for-the-card-before-buzzing-you-in-even-if-you-came-every-day finally got a life and decided that methodically checker every persons' Bimart membership was a poor use of life.
Unfortunately the dark days are upon us again. For another has tken the pace of the old one. And this times it is a young bearded chap.
To the story:
I've been in bimart many times with my parents and I never thought much of actually having a Bimart card.
Since I've been able to transport myself via automobile I have gone into Bimart unaccompanied by my parents and had no problem entering through the swinging door and hearing that cheerful "Ding - Dong" as the checker hits the useless unlock button (and I say useless because 9 times out of 10 the door is unlatched and open). Anyway... I go in and I see this new guy at the front. Well, I'm an optimist so i think, meh, he won't care. I'll just walk in. So, I enter and he rings the door and I walk through and moments before being free and clear I hear a "Excuse me."
I turn to see him referring to me.
"Sorry. Do you have a Bimart Card."
I go out on a whim and quickly choose a response. "No, my parents do though," I say throwing my elbows up onto the counter. "Why are you going to throw me out?"
I can see the surprise crash on his face, he probably wasn't expecting this reaction.
After a moment of "thought gathering" he says, "No... but you do need one, in the future."
Haha! Victory, my bluntness and lack of basic human social standards have finally paid off. I turn and proceed to buy cheap Bimart candy.