Occasionally situations arise that jog the memory banks. Much like a comet returning from the outer most reaches of the vast universe, these memories or frozen moments in time return, orbit the brain, much like a brief dream, speeding off into the unknown, never knowing if they will return. Within my circle of family it is known, I am not fond of flying creatures. In the wild, utterly beautiful and even majestic, but within the confines of a building or small space, my heart races, fears begin to swell, I feel the need to get out. Can't explain why, they can stay, I'll leave, thank you very much!
This phobia started as a child, my sister and I had pet parakeets, hers arriving first. Miss Q, a beautiful blue, sweet and adorable, would sit on your finger or shoulder, nuzzling at the side of you cheek. Everything about her was feminine, I loved her. As my birthday rolled around..."Please, please I want my own bird!" I begged, fool that I am. Off to the pet shop, "Ginger the parakeet", now being carefully coddled in her travel cage, by an unsuspecting child, was headed to her new home. Ginger would share her new home with Miss Q, that adorable sweet bird. After letting her "adjust", it was time to play with my own bird. Sparing all the ugly details, lets just classify Ginger, a beautiful tropical shade of green, as the alter ego of Miss Q. Much like the Jekyll-Hyde thing, this was a possessed bird from hell, sent to torment me during my adolescent years, to be used by my "loving" sister as a means of torture. All was fine until demon bird killed Miss Q, then what seemed to be years of insecurity and downright fear began, sort of a living hell, compounded by the fact this sweet looking tropical cutie carried Houdini genes. Seriously, I was afraid to come home from school, arriving before anyone else, the little bitch always managed to escape her cage, diving bombing me at the front door. Even as I tried to luring this winged devil into the great outdoors, she resisted...b*#*h. So began my life long phobia of all things flying. Snakes, spiders, mice, all other "scary" creatures, no problems...friggan flying things....heart palpitations.
Dear Father Mike, a visitor from our past, a hero in my eyes, saved my life: a bird flies into Fred's News, of course panicking once it realizes it can no longer soar into wild blue, seeks out the one person, that shows fears of it's four inch body...me! It might of been the high pitched scream forced from my inner most depths, whatever, I know it was sent to torment me...."The return of Ginger!" Father Mike, rolling over in laughter, tears streaming down his face, threw something over the unsuspecting tiny winged creature, carefully picking it up, return it to Mother Nature. It was weeks before the fear of a return visit from the "Spirit of Ginger", left my body.
Florida has many gorgeous birds, I admire from a far. The Sand-Hill cranes walk right up to you, yet I do not fear them. They are majestic, as are the Bald Eagles and Owls that soar above our home or perch in my backyard preserve. Big birds, I have no fears, it's the little bastards that scare the crap out of me. Interestingly enough, my phobia hit center stage two days ago. Florida has mosquitoes in overly large quantities, Bats help to control the population. Ugly little creatures, they are fine from a distance. During a violent thunderstorm, a little winged creature flew into my work location, landing on the floor in the kitchen. People screamed, one who managed to keep their wits, threw a plastic container over this dazed UGLY bat, then proceeded to get me. Really! much like a general leading his troops, the leader must show no fear in moments of adversity. Although my thoughts were "who the f#*k ever said that", I remained surprisingly calm, by my standards. Calling pest control, they assured me, they would arrive within five minutes. For the record, they do not know how to tell time. Since this petrified winged creature, now covered with a CLEAR plastic container was blocking the walkway through a major artery in the kitchen, it had to be moved. "Gen. Diane, what are we going to do?" my petrified troops questioned. As I turned around looking for someone else they might be talking to, I realized.."nope its me, yep Cmdr. in Chief, it's your battle to win or lose...fix it!" This is how I know pest control took longer than five minutes! As I carefully slid the small container along the floor, the ugly little Bat staring straight up at me, disgustingly ugly as it was, I tried to remind myself, this is one of God's creatures, it is beautiful!" Managing to move it out of the walkway, one could hear it's high pitched screeches echoing throughout the location. Reminding everyone "fun time was over" we have Guests waiting, return to work, I realized Bats, could now be included in my list of winged things that cause great harm to my aging body...particularly a heart attack!
This phobia started as a child, my sister and I had pet parakeets, hers arriving first. Miss Q, a beautiful blue, sweet and adorable, would sit on your finger or shoulder, nuzzling at the side of you cheek. Everything about her was feminine, I loved her. As my birthday rolled around..."Please, please I want my own bird!" I begged, fool that I am. Off to the pet shop, "Ginger the parakeet", now being carefully coddled in her travel cage, by an unsuspecting child, was headed to her new home. Ginger would share her new home with Miss Q, that adorable sweet bird. After letting her "adjust", it was time to play with my own bird. Sparing all the ugly details, lets just classify Ginger, a beautiful tropical shade of green, as the alter ego of Miss Q. Much like the Jekyll-Hyde thing, this was a possessed bird from hell, sent to torment me during my adolescent years, to be used by my "loving" sister as a means of torture. All was fine until demon bird killed Miss Q, then what seemed to be years of insecurity and downright fear began, sort of a living hell, compounded by the fact this sweet looking tropical cutie carried Houdini genes. Seriously, I was afraid to come home from school, arriving before anyone else, the little bitch always managed to escape her cage, diving bombing me at the front door. Even as I tried to luring this winged devil into the great outdoors, she resisted...b*#*h. So began my life long phobia of all things flying. Snakes, spiders, mice, all other "scary" creatures, no problems...friggan flying things....heart palpitations.
Dear Father Mike, a visitor from our past, a hero in my eyes, saved my life: a bird flies into Fred's News, of course panicking once it realizes it can no longer soar into wild blue, seeks out the one person, that shows fears of it's four inch body...me! It might of been the high pitched scream forced from my inner most depths, whatever, I know it was sent to torment me...."The return of Ginger!" Father Mike, rolling over in laughter, tears streaming down his face, threw something over the unsuspecting tiny winged creature, carefully picking it up, return it to Mother Nature. It was weeks before the fear of a return visit from the "Spirit of Ginger", left my body.
Florida has many gorgeous birds, I admire from a far. The Sand-Hill cranes walk right up to you, yet I do not fear them. They are majestic, as are the Bald Eagles and Owls that soar above our home or perch in my backyard preserve. Big birds, I have no fears, it's the little bastards that scare the crap out of me. Interestingly enough, my phobia hit center stage two days ago. Florida has mosquitoes in overly large quantities, Bats help to control the population. Ugly little creatures, they are fine from a distance. During a violent thunderstorm, a little winged creature flew into my work location, landing on the floor in the kitchen. People screamed, one who managed to keep their wits, threw a plastic container over this dazed UGLY bat, then proceeded to get me. Really! much like a general leading his troops, the leader must show no fear in moments of adversity. Although my thoughts were "who the f#*k ever said that", I remained surprisingly calm, by my standards. Calling pest control, they assured me, they would arrive within five minutes. For the record, they do not know how to tell time. Since this petrified winged creature, now covered with a CLEAR plastic container was blocking the walkway through a major artery in the kitchen, it had to be moved. "Gen. Diane, what are we going to do?" my petrified troops questioned. As I turned around looking for someone else they might be talking to, I realized.."nope its me, yep Cmdr. in Chief, it's your battle to win or lose...fix it!" This is how I know pest control took longer than five minutes! As I carefully slid the small container along the floor, the ugly little Bat staring straight up at me, disgustingly ugly as it was, I tried to remind myself, this is one of God's creatures, it is beautiful!" Managing to move it out of the walkway, one could hear it's high pitched screeches echoing throughout the location. Reminding everyone "fun time was over" we have Guests waiting, return to work, I realized Bats, could now be included in my list of winged things that cause great harm to my aging body...particularly a heart attack!
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