Back in the summer of 2013, my mom got this pix of a fox in her yard drinking from the birdbath. That was back when she still had the 6-foot fence (stained red) that came with the house. We have foxes out here — as well as possums — in fact, one made national news coverage at one of my alma mater’s football games. This summer, she got a new fence, one of those 8-foot jobs with the fence posts made from metal pipe set in concrete. Foxes can and do climb fences (and trees), but I thought for sure one would not be able to scale mom’s new fence.
Well, mom got her new computer Friday, and it’s all set up and running now. She got her email addresses all loaded and updated and everything, but doesn’t know how to make mail groups, nor did CK put on all the games she likes, or important bookmarks (like my blog). IHOP* is in the habit of sending her a coupon for a free meal for her birthday (which was last month), but she got another one this month for some reason, so after church, she met me at IHOP and we had “the usual.” (It’s a good thing I got there early and got on the waiting list. There was a 20-minute wait for a table. Yeah, I know. At IHOP! Of course, at noon on Sunday, right after church lets out, every restaurant in town immediately becomes packed. Even IHOP. You couldn’t stir them with a stick.) Then I followed her home to perform mail groups for her, convince programs not to open windows full screen, and made her some bookmarks, and put icons for her favorite games on the desktop, and otherwise got this computer to operate the same way she was used to operating the other one before it bit the dust.
After we got the computer sorted, mom turned on TV to get American football. We caught the tail end of the Packers versus St Louis game, which went into sudden death overtime, and steamrollered right into Cowboys versus Patriots, which was the game she was anticipating watching. (Somehow, my mom has turned into quite the sports fan. She prefers baseball (Rangers), basketball (Raiders), and tennis, but it’s gotten to the point where she’ll even watch golf.) We were watching the New England quarterback getting sacked good and proper by Dallas linebackers the size of buses, when a splash of a particular shape and color caught the tail end of my eye and I turned my head just in time to see a sho’nuff fox trot across the back yard. Alas, I only managed to get an eye on him for a matter of seconds, and was unable to determine whether he got into and out of the yard over or under my mom’s new 8-foot fence, but by the time we’d scrambled the fighters and made it into the back yard, he was sho’nuff gone.
Oh, and BTW, since this is breast cancer awareness month, to show their solidarity, all the players and coaching staff, and even the referees had hot pink wrist bands, rags (the quarterbacks, receivers and centers have one hanging out their back waistband to dry their hands on between plays to give them a better grip on the ball), and other sports gear. Nothing raises awareness quite like a 6-foot 4-inch, 300 pound offensive tackle wearing a hot pink anything.
* pronounced “eye-hop” by the cognoscenti. . .