Fear Itself

I'm afraid I don't understand

  
Phobophobia forces me to present this note from Mom...  

Fear itself is and can be a good thing. Fear/phobias are very good for getting the blood flowing. It can also show us as humans that we are not the ultimate animal on this planet...quite humbling indeed. But our phobias have to be used in a positive way to get positive results. We humans, as thinkers, can and should use our knowledge to our best ability for a better world and that includes our enjoyment of all things here.

I didn't win the mailbag.. now I fear that I will NEVER own one of Mr. Petermans Progress Turtleneck Sweaters in this lifetime...
 
 
 

Phobos is a moon of Mars. Is Mars scared? Is that why it's red? Embarrassed of being afraid of a moon?It's Korthal's Birfday. Cake in the club car tonite. Don't be afraid of calories...

Korthal - Happy Birthday!!!

For people w/ a huge fear - that photo at the top should BE TAKEN DOWN NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! seriously.
 
KORTHAL- Happy Birthday!! I hope your day is wonderful. I am making an appetizer for your party on the sepiatrain this evening. I hope you will like it.

Korthal:  Happy Birthday!

My mother had an incredible fear of birds.  In the early 80's one of her godchildren got married in a bird sanctuary outside of Boston.  She was in a panic for weeks about it.  She was very glamorous and she spent all of her time looking for a dress and shoes that wouldn't over stimulate the feathered guests.  She  actually asked  me if Tippi Hedron's bouffant hairstyle in the Birds protected her head  from attack.    

I'm on very intimate terms with fear, and always have been.  I was born fearful, I'm told.  And sorry to say, all of what I've learned about conquering this emotion boils down to the lyrics of that song from 'The King and I'

Whenever I feel afraid
I hold my head erect
And whistle a happy tune
So no one will suspect
I'm afraid.

While shivering in my shoes
I strike a careless pose
And whistle a happy tune
And no one ever knows
I'm afraid.

The result of this deception
Is very strange to tell
For when I fool the people
I fear I fool myself as well!

I whistle a happy tune
And ev'ry single time
The happiness in the tune
Convinces me that I'm not afraid.

Make believe you're brave
And the trick will take you far.
You may be as brave
As you make believe you are

You may be as brave
As you make believe you are

Bebe: Fear of photographs.  That's a new one.  What would we call it?  Photophobia has probably already been taken.  It would be a good name for a band.   

On a somewhat tangential note.... My aunt Hazel passed away yesterday.  She was my kindergarten teacher, married to my Uncle John, who is sadly also in intensive care.  He may not last the week.  A classic duprass.  Uncle John, a real character, survived the Battle of the Bulge, gave me my first penknife at age four or five, taught me 'killer holds' when I was about six, hired me on a variety of sundry tasks as a kid (weeding strawberries and putting up hay bales just to name a couple).  He also plucked me out of the water and saved me from drowning.  Interestingly, when I met and chatted with Aunt Hazel and Uncle John in June, neither could remember the memory, etched in my mind.  And I learned Uncle John is unable to swim and was/is afraid of water (him?!?!?).  They later figured out from my razor-sharp description of my near drowning where it must have been (her parents lakeside cabin).  And that's one thing about fear: it's very private and others may not even be aware of terror a few feet away.  Anyway, Uncle John scooped me out of the water.  And now, phase two.... the following summer my parents took us (there were only five of us then) for a two-week summer vacation on a camp alongside Lake Champlain, VT.  I remember that vacation vividly, too (finding a five-dollar bill on the rock shore, the many gutting and cleaning dozens and dozens of fish, the pot-bellied stove, etc).  My mom's project was to get me over my terror of water. So, every day we'd go to the end of the dock and (little by little) I'd climb down a step or two on the ladder into the dark and icy water, her holding me, right beside me.  The incentive was that -- if I could get down to the point of letting the water get up to my chin, she'd get me a Saint Christopher medal.  It took most of the vacation, but I GOT my medal.  (I can still remember the waves of fear rising almost as dark as that water).  Years and years later (when stationed in Guam) I took a PADI course in scuba diving and did quite a bit of snokling (and some scuba diving) amid the reefs surrounding that island.  It was glorious!  Like flying... inside schools of fish, diving down to the bottom to check out features at the base of the reefs.... And I thought of my mom then (as I do now).  Over the years I've learned that fear is a very useful emotion when it is 'light' (as when driving) and debilitating when 'heavy' (as when folks freeze in terror).  And most useful, I've learned it can be harnassed, used, controlled, and so on.  Used?  Well, if you have ever been around a fearless person (and I have) they are REALLY scary.... their inability to feel fear in really dangerous situations puts EVERYONE around them (or at least those who follow them) at risk.  On the verge of retirement, I still work at confronting my fears (yep, new ones pop up all the time) and 'working through' them.  And I write these words because I've (sadly) learned that most folks don't think through their fears, confronting the sillier ones and conquering them.  Most people let themselves be mastered by their fears.  And fear is a horrible master!  I was born after FDR was dead, but if nothing else, I have always liked his statement, 'We have nothing to fear but fear itself'.  When I see folks glued to their TVs learning what to be afraid of this week (vaccinations, breast cancer, terrorists, 'disease of the week', serial murderers, wild animals, liberals --or conservatives, ad infinitum) I feel so liberated.  I know I'm going to die, I know horrible things happen and will probably happen to me too (eventually), but I also have a secret key:  I can fight fears and if not defeat them, at least learn to cut them down to my size.  It's a great feeling!

Rereading my last post, it sounds a bit pompous and self-centered.  Not my objective!  Objective: to give the fearful hope. Fears are NOT locked in stone!

Doc: I'm sorry to hear about your Aunt and Uncle.  I've taught that song from The King And I to dozens of fearful little kids. 
 
Sometimes a fear of water isn't a fear.  It can be a physical reaction.  Some people with heart valve probems get a strange rush when they are submerged in water in under a heavey shower.  They often think its some kind of panic attack.  It has something to do with the change in temperature.   
 
Your mother was very wise to teach you how to acclimate your body.
 
Do you still have the St. Christopher medal?
 
He was my dad's favorite Saint so I always have a have a small one with me that I play with when someone is annoying me.. (If you're interested I'll explain that later.)
 
I'm off to jury duty, again. 

Secondary objective: To explain to good friend Olivia why/how I'm planning to do a solo 488-mile hike in Colorado next summer.  (No, I'm NOT afraid of bears.)  In good measure, I'm going to do this as a mental exercise, going outside my comfort zone, suffering, and (hopefully) coming back with one more victory -- over my amygdala -- on my 'scalp belt'.

Like so much in my life, Julia, the physical stuff is history. Thank goodness I was born with a near-photographic memory!  (My son, great guy, was not).  

Some day, when it's more appropriate, I'll post about my incredible relatives (including but not limited to Uncle Johna and Aunt Hazel).   I'll spare you stories about my 30 first cousins, but their parents are/we all fascinating folks, as were our ancestors... Today is not appropriate.

Doc  - your post was most enlightening and encouraging, not pompous at all.   The older I get, the more I think about and agree with FDR's quote.  I'm even getting better about living it.   

It's difficult to read about others' fears, they seem so plausible that before I know it, I've adopted theirs along with mine -- pathetic, I know.

Andy:  Its normal to adopt the fears of others.  Kids do it all the time.  Sometimes after someone days close friends and relatives will adopt the fears of the dead person.  Strange way to live in other people's memories. 

My dad taught me to recognize those things that are, or could be, dangerous and then instead of being afraid, offer them "a healthy respect." This applies to snakes, circular saws, heights, water and any number of reasonable fears.

My respect gets REALLY healthy sometimes, but if I remember that the object of my fear is not evil in itself, but it could be hazardous to me, then dealing with it is a matter of rendering it harmless TO ME. Doesn't mean the danger is eliminated, just that it's not gonna get me today.

Fear, however, can be beneficial in a situation of real danger. But I don't think that's what we're talking about today...

DOC: People are truly fascinating, aren't they? Everybody's got a story when we dig for it. Some big and colorful, some quiet, some intense, some not. Few people think that their own story is all that interesting, though, and so many stories die with them. I'm glad you're gathering your family's stories...

How about "Fear of Stupid People in Positions of Authority"? 'Cause I've got a great story about that. In the ordinary course of settling my late father's estate - something that should have been fairly straightforward - the probate court appointed an investigator just to make sure that everything was on the up and up. This "investigator" reported back to the court that there had been an entire art collection of my Dad's that I had personally absconded with from a local museum. That I had, in fact, loaded it all up into a truck and had driven it back to where I live and where I was now hiding it for my personal use. And on top of it all, the court then concealed this investigator's report from me, and so did the attorney who I had imagined was working for me, and of course a few jilted beneficiaries of my father's estate had some interest in it, too. I suppose that what one or more petty-minded sorts who had an interest in my being an International Art Thief must have been thinking was "Ahh, he's all the way in California, and he won't find out that we're scamming him until it's too late".

What makes it all the funnier is... the museum from where I'm supposed to have looted an entire collection was at my undergraduate college. And the now-director of that museum was my undergraduate photography professor and is a decades-long personal friend. So I called him up, once I discovered the criminally libelous ruse, and asked "Did I loot your museum of an entire art collection last Summer? I don't think I did, but you know I did lots of really fun things in college... Maybe I still have blackouts or go into fugues."

After my director buddy stopped wheezing with laughter, we got things all sorted out, but it added months of time and a great deal of ill will to what should have been a genial conversations among colleagues/peers. So now I have a healthy phobia centered around the mouth-breathing little inbred mutant piglets who - some how - get put in positions of petty authority.

The dementors in "Harry Potter" are supposed to be the embodiment of fear, because they force one to relive one's worst memory. JK Rowling also says fear of the dark is just a fear of the unknown.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KORTHAL!!!

My career in medicine is proof that phobias can be overcome. Prior to medical school, I was intensely afraid of blood and of serious medical conditions. As of the time of undergraduate school, I had fainted so often upon exposure to blood that I felt I honestly would have problems making it through adulthood because of my fears. I fainted in dentist chairs, fainted when phlebotomized and fainted when I heard "gory stories." I fainted in doctor's office waiting rooms. If something medical got into my thoughts when I was driving, pulling off onto the road margin, lying down, and turning on AC full blast was necessary.

These fears continued into my first year and a half in medical school, and I gradually realized that I was placing arterial lines, performing lumbar punctures and even doing the grisliest medical procedure of all (bone marrow biopsy) without getting lightheaded.

A few years ago, I even sutured up my own wound, an accidental leg laceration, without local anesthetic. The phobia is completely gone.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY KORTHAL!
 
Hmmmm birthdays and fear.  I had a brother who was terrified of his birthday, everytime my mom would sit him down and make everyone sing to him he would burst into tears.  This continued until he was about 10, he's over the crying part now but still hates his birthdays.

  KSS,

Great, I passed out reading that.



Velvet,

The dementors may actually be rendering a service. When I was forced, under pressure, to relive awful things, I came out the other end either: A) unable to remember them or B) unable to respect their importance.

Doc Nolan,

Coming from someone near your age who considers a 488 mi. drive a big deal, my hat is off to you!  Bears are not to be feared... at least until they resolve their quarterback issue.


I haven't ever had the urge to quote Packer head coach Mike McCarthy until today when he responded to a question about whether the inconsistency of his place kicker 'worried' him:

"Worrying," he said, "is like praying for a bad outcome. I never do that."

I have believed that for a long time but never heard it so well put. 

Happy Birthday Korthal!!
 
Isles ~ Do you need someone to sell all that stolen art for you? Call me I'll be "the Dealer" for a 20% cut.  I have no fear of being caught, really who wouldn't trust me?
 
Stoney ~ I have no clue what is up with Mason Crosby this season I really wish he would learn to kick a little straighter though. McCarthy always has some great quotes about his players, especially when the press ask him some pretty dumb questions. 
 
Hmm I wonder if any sports coaches have a fear of the press's dumb questions & what it's called...

DocNolan, I, like Stoney, nearly fainted -- for obvious reasons , and in awe of you -- just reading your words:Your gift for imagery is keenly honed. I've said before, say again, I envy you the coming summer's trip; know nothing will go unobserved, unappreciated. Keep a journal, please.

Happy birthday, KORTHAL!

By the bye, DocNolan, I've always liked the song you quote, know it by heart, sang it to my children, played the recording, took them to the film.

We start -- or I did -- with fears of what's under the bed waiting to reach out and grab us at night. When I was 4 or 5, I checked my closet and under the bed, a parent in the room for safety, every night. Why children have that fear, when they've lived so short a time and never experienced anything seriously fearful, I don't understand. I was a tiny child when FDR was president, but "remember" (we never know what we remember and what we create; memory is a strange and wondrous thing) hearing people repeat those wise words; later saw newsreel footage of him speaking them, and somehow, young as I was, they made sense. Still do. This is not to say I don't have nightmares about snakes, one of my worst fears.

I actually did pass out in the dentist chair once.
 
He hadn't even touched me.  But he was intending to do a root canal.  And I have rootcanalaphobia major.
 
 
Scared the hell out of the guy, me out cold in the chair.  He told me to come back the next day and to take a Valium beforehand.
 
I think he meant he intended to take a Valium beforehand.
 
 
 

HAPPY KORTHAL, BIRTHDAY

err . . . you know what I mean.

Certainly there are things that I fear: snakes, heights (or, rather, falling from heights). But more than anything, anymore, I fear what might happen to others because of me. I often walk to the coffee shop (about 5 blocks and across a very busy highway), and I often have to pause on the raised median in the middle of the highway until traffic clears enough for me to get across. And every time I do that, I have this gut-clenching fear that one day my nephews would go with me for that walk (I don't know why they would), and they would pull out of my hands to run across the second part of the street and get hit by a car.

It just terrifies me.

The only thing we have to fear, is fear itself. 

  
Our old neighbor, Mr. Simpson, liked to encourage me to sit, for a half hour, quietly next to him, rocking on the porch. He would have suggested something to think about and then, we would talk about it.

It was his opinion that people didn't do enough thinking. Thirty minutes seemed like a long time to a little boy.

One day, he asked me to turn my wrist over and he placed one finger on it and after a while, he smiled.

I had been scaring my parents by passing out and had, in fact, done so at the top of the stairs in his house before he lived there and the top of the balcony steps at church as well.

He reported to my mom that his attention was drawn to the fact that, when resting, I only seemed to breathe about six or seven times a minute and that my pulse was thirty-five BPM.

So, when it was hot and the air was rare, I wasn't taking in enough oxygen to stay upright. They stopped worrying about it and I stopped doing it in that order.



I was so unafraid of the dark that I was in the habit of sneaking out at night to enjoy it. Nightfall seemed to me a misnomer. It actually rises up the sides of trees and buildings but "nightrise" has never caught on.

I saw many things that nobody would have believed and, knowing that, would not speak of the fox until there was snow on the ground.

Our dad, was wretchedly arbitrary in demanding that nobody, meaning me, creep out to sit on the apple stump next to the pump in the nighttime.        

He had no night vision at all and one very dark night when he came out mumbling about tanning someone's hide, I pulled back a big lilac branch and let it go as he groped by.

While he was out there screaming like a little girl with a bat in her hair, I went around the house in through the window, hooked the screen, put on fresh dry socks and jumped in bed.

Apart from our mom pimping him about it, nothing much was said and he never came out again.

 

Fear of falling from heights, as Michael wrote, is one of my fears.  One year, the state fair added an attraction which was essentially a ski lift that traversed the midway area.  You had to jump on quickly, just like a ski lift, and it would periodically stop for no apparent reason, just like a ski lift.  My husband and daughter (then about 5) were thrilled with the idea and though I tried every way possible to talk my way out of it without imparting my fear to my child, I was roped into it.  At one of the many stops along the way, with my white knuckles clearly evident on the handle and my death-grip around my child, hubby realized that I was paralyzed with fear and asked why I had agreed to go.  It was only later I told him why:  I could not ask my husband and child to ride some rinky-dink ride at the fair and risk death while I stood safely by.  If the thing was going to crash, we had to all be on it.
 
Nowadays, through the miracle of beta blockers, that sort of thing doesn't bother me at all.  Better living through chemistry!!

I've noticed that very intelligent people, and/or creative people have the worst times and experiences with generalized anxiety or *irrational fears.*  Doctors' buzz words: irrational fears, because if the fear is yours and it paralyzes you, there's nothing irrational about it.
 
I know this topic too well to even want to talk about it.  Agoraphobia for a time years ago was my constant companion.  I beat her down to a pulp and can do it now again if the need arises,but I don't think it will.  Not because of the mumbo and jumbo of therapist talk, about putting oneself into the feared situation and surviving and then saying "Look ma, I did it.  (Pause).  But I'm not doing it again."  That's just about how successful I see sensitization.  Bunk.  I think it's bunk, for most people. 
 
I'll qualify the Bunk by saying that perhaps, for a person with a single phobia, putting oneself into the feared situation over and over again might work.  If the patient tends to be inclined to anxiety, chances are they'll transfer one fear/phobia to another, but I must admit it must help some people.  Some.
 
The rest of us, with generalized anxiety or recurrent panic attacks to the point of a disorder -- the kind of anxiety that interferes with every day life -- therapy might make you feel warm and fuzzy for that brief 45 minutes, and it might be nice to have an understanding person to talk with, if they return calls quickly -- but otherwise, I'd make sure the therapist was hooked up with a prescribing doctor, because as one who has had panic disorder and generalized anxiety since I was 19 (that's 41 years), the only thing that's helped me live with this anxious state of affairs is medication.
 
Like Doc, upthread, I've been told I was born anxious.  I believe it.  I can recall dealing with symptoms of panic from  the days when I was first reading Nancy Drew books.  And I've been through alternative therapies of every type, a new one every 5 years, a breakthrough ever decade...but you know what?  Bunk.
 
I needed meds.  I still do, though less.  I suspect age has to do with this, and for that, I'm happy I'm older. 
 
But as for Today's Commentary, can fears be conquered without drugs...I say maybe yours can, but mine can't.
 
 

And that's the end of the story.

I'm always afraid of being to late to catch the train and miss out on a chance to watch the word speed by as I watch the stars and capture moonbeams ... ...

 
I understand that people with Asberger's have the most creative fears of all......

I've always been afraid of not being enough, to not be accepted as is.  It doesn't paralyze me like it did when I was young, but it's always lurking in the background, paitently waiting for a chance to strike again.
 See ya tomorrow...

Oh no, Shandonista said the A-word.

The above Phelps technique sounds similar to what used to be called, "medical hypnotherapy" or "medical hypnosis" and can be used for emotional problems as well as pain control. There is a lot more to this, however, for brevity, just wanted to comment that this technique has been around for a long, long time.

Some  fear  is  a  good  thing.   Rainforest  dwellers  in  Ecuador  fear  predatory  big  cats  at  night.   As  a  result,  and  in  respect  for  the  stealth  &  sheer  strength  of  the  rogue  leopard  that  has  acquired  a  taste  for  human  flesh,   houses  are  built  8'  off  the  ground  on  stilts.  So  far,  few  leopards  have  mastered  successfully  the  art  of  climbing  the   bamboo  ladder,  but  in  an  abundance  of  caution,  the  ladder  is  usually  pulled  up  into  the  house  at  night.
 
Fear  can  get  out  of  proportion  to  the  actual  or  imaginary  threat,   and  at  that  point  it  can  become  entrapping,  or  even  lethal.   If  you  fear  any  contact  with  other  human  beings,  your  reclusive  life  will  be  miserable,  entirely  structured  around  your  phobia.   Studies  by  the   military  have  determined  that  in  combat  situations,  especially  where  a  batallion  is  top-heavy  with  soldiers  fresh  out  of  boot  camp,  when  the  shooting  starts  fully  1/3  of  the  soldiers  will  freeze  up,  and  not  fire  their  weapons.   Another  1/3  will  suddenly  realize  that  the  taking  of  another  human  life  is  a  major  request  by  the  government,   not  like  the  glorious  event  portrayed  in  war  movies.   Those  troops  will  intentionally  or  subconsciously  fire  a  little  off  target.   This  means  that  only  1/3  of  an  infantry  company's  riflemen  are  actually  and  methodically  aiming,   firing,   and  reloading.....    Worst  of  all,  the   captain  figures  that  a  decent  percentage  of  the  soldiers  that  ARE  methodically  aiming,  firing,  and  reloading  as  though  they  were  merely  riding  a  bicycle  to  town  for  ice  cream  are  actually  psychopaths,  or  too  dumb  to  fully  appreciate  the  situation.    So  the  captain  acquires  fears,  at  some  level  they  are  helpful,  but  if  carried  to  an  extreme  they  immobilize  him,  jeopardizing  hundreds  of  lives.  Everyone  has  their  own  cycle  of  fright,  and  flight  or  fight.

 
Park4,

I don't know how you do it but you are a role model to worriers everywhere. I'm not one and if you hadn't brought it up, I wouldn't have thought you were either. Good for you.

Is your lake booming as it makes ice? Ours is and I have figured out how not to worry about going through... stay off. Everything should be that easy...eh?

Julia  Masi:   Everybody  sane  agrees  that  Hitler  was  deranged,  yet  his  persuasive  power  with  otherwise  educated  people  was  awesome,   and  his  lack  of  conscience   allowed   him   to  plot  the  demise  of  countries,  as  well  as  part  of  his  own  population,  without  annoying  distractions  of  guilt.     It  says  little  complimentary about  war  that  often  those  best  equipped  to  adopt  the  mindset  are  emotionally  troubled,  or  reality  challenged.

As an undergraduate  working in the music industry, I worked with a songwriter who was  writing a historial work on Germany. She  was doing research on Hitler's persuasive powers for her book.  She  interviewed many people about relatives who were seduced into following Hitler's ways.  I found  similarities between Hitler, modern cult leaders and drug dealing gang recruiters that have lead me to be fearful of smooth talkers who embrace misfits.    

Bebe:  The Peanuts Christmas Special is on tonight.  I can't watch it I'm off to organize a coat drive and food drive.  Jury duty is over, so I have to get 4:30 am again!
 

Found a new fear today: Bats.

And this came about because, as I was sitting in my bedroom, I suddenly had one flying around the room. I managed to catch it in a trashcan, take it outside, and whack it with a shovel.

But I'm still freaked out a bit.

I fear that I will not be accepted back into the fold, after a long absence, be it from home, family, loved ones, work, school, or a website.

Daniel, daniel, daniel.
 
Quell segue.
 
Very smooth.
 
Of course you're welcomed back, or just welcome, period.
 
 
How about helping Michael get over his new found fear of bats, now that you're here.  I'd help, but they're scary and they bite.   The bats, I mean; not Michael.

I've spent this birthday reading all of the happy wishes from you all, my virtual friends, thank you all, and talking on the phone to family and friends.
 
It's been a quit day but lovely.
 
And didn't we talk about fears a few months ago?
 
Mine include heights and bridges.
 
I enjoyed reading about everyone else's fears and phobias and how they are delt with.
 
 

Can't help Michael get over his fear of bats since we had them in the house and they terrified me; bats in the attic......a whole family(?) colony (?) -- whatever, i wanted them gone.  They would come down into the house every now and then and I found that I actually have a bat scream.  We had Critter Control come and get rid of them.  When they left the Critter Control people covered the openings where they were coming in....I learned more than I ever cared to know about bats and their habits.  Evidently they're territorial and now probably live in one of my neighbor's attics -- if only I could choose the neighbor.......if only.......

On a slight tangent, there are situations where one is technically afraid but so focused that one isn't conscious of it (until after the crisis has passed and one begins to shake like a leaf).... Near head-on crashes, serious injuries, being shot at or having a knife pulled on one... (Yes, all of these and some others, too!).  It's hard to describe how time slows down and one's body does precisely the correct things to keep one alive... as the paralyzed 'consciousness' watches.  The total ABSENCE of any emotion is incredible!  It's as if one is watching a slow motion film and one is simply (and disconnectedly) 'there'....  And a few seconds (or minutes) real life starts again.  The pounding pulse, the flush of blood streaming to the face and hands, the shaking, the fast and shallow breathing, and the warmth of norepinephrin (I assume) flowing everywhere.  And the realization of how very close one came to nothingness.  No, it's not fear... it's something parallel to fear.... and I'm not sure I have a word for it........

poor, poor little bat .. .. ..

Hey Danel:
 
When are you going to blog again?

 
C'mon, Stoney, tell the one about the water guy. It has it all. Fear, even terror, footprints and underwear on the sand, courage and a naked woman.

Dad says thanks. Why is that?

 

Wow, Doc, it sounds like you went to the same elementary school that I did!

When the screens got knocked off the chimney pots at my parents house we'd get small flying critters who tumbled in and flew about erraticly until they found the open window and escaped.
 
One night my little sister came screaming down the hall in a bath towel, I couldn't understand what she was saying but she just kept pointing at her room.  My dad and I went in and looked everywhere but we couldn't figure out what was going on.  When sis calmed down we managed to get "b-b-bat" out of her...went back in and shook out the curtains.  A big bat was discovered clinging to the backside of one of them, dad stunned it with a broom and I scooped it into a paper bag with the dust pan.
 
After getting up on the roof and refixing the screens, we set the little guy free.  Coming back in the house my sister was still blubbering, turns out she wasn't upset about the bat, she was upset because "the bat saw me naked".  *sigh*

It's tangential to the "bat saw me naked" story. It's only tangential, though, to the the fact of a story being generated by a girl who's apparent distress was completely unrelated to her actual distress, i.e. thinking somebody's worked up about something, and being totally wrong!

So we had to kill a chicken. It was sick, fell over, wouldn't get up, whatever. Time to die and become a donation to the forest. So... out to the back behind the shed with chicken and axe, plop goes the chicken head, and out to the forest coyotes with the carcass. Pretty simple.

A few days later my daughter noticed the absent chicken, apparently named "Bruce" and was horribly distraught. I explained that Bruce was sick and the only compassionate thing to do was end it nice and quick. My daughter burst into tears and sobs at the news of Bruce's beheading, and we tried to comfort her with the usual banalities - "for the best, dear" and "sometimes chickens just get sick and die, dear". My daughter looked up from her hands and gave us the punchline: "I WANTED TO WATCH!!!"

I just love all you people.  I am reasonably new to this site and read your comments daily.  Very informative and usually quite thought provoking.  I have been way to fearful to comment but tonight you have relaxed me.  And I thank you...

Welcome aboard Senora. How nice that a post about fears has lessened yours.

OOPS, I'm afraid today's discussion is over. Darn. I had secrets to tell,incantations to reduce fear...