Waiting in line at Walgreen’s and the lady in front of me is buying a cart worth of necessities with coupons and carefully counting her pennies. It would have been really annoying, but her baby was a lot of fun. He was at the age when he was discovering the power of dropping stuff. He that was fun for him. He dropped a toy, it was picked up and returned. It was a very important discovery in the laws of physics. Then he dropped his toy and something really amazing happened. I caught it. He lit up with laughter, like that was the most amazing thing that ever happened to him. He dropped it for to catch a couple more times. Then he tried to up his game and fool me by dropping his toy in different locations where my hand wasn’t. It was the funniest event for him. Eventually, all the goods were bought and they left, but before leaving, the mom turned and my me pleased that I was entertaining and enjoying rather then being frustrated.

I enjoy seeing kids in public. When the parents are actively trying to teach their children to behave, it makes me happy to see, even when the kids are acting like brats. I’m not talking about parents spanking, smacking, or threatening to, beating of any sort is not actively teaching how to behave. That actively encourages children it is okay to physically attack others as adults when others don’t do as desired. I enjoy seeing parents talking, explaining, standing up to the fits and tantrums, or even ignoring them at the disgust of the adults around them. I actually like it when children are throwing tantrums in public without reaction from the parent. For me, those are the kids that are going to grow into the most considerate and polite adults. Unlike children hidden at home, away from restaurants, these children get to learn, understand, and be used to being in public as they have learned their bad behavior won’t get them what they asked. For one child, I started laughing at her. I started making minor fun of the fit she was throwing, that the parent was being patient. With that calm input of disapproval from a stranger, the girl shut-up. The parent looked not only amused, but grateful I was able to take it stride, speak-up, and help teach the child that tantrums won’t get her what she wants.

The old idiom goes, “It takes a village to raise a child”, but as Americans we don’t believe that. We believe you better not tell my child what to do, and then wonder as more and more children grow-up selfish, full of anxiety, and unable to interact with society in a meaningful way. There is no learning of give-and-take with physical neighbors, instead that their way, and only their way is right, even when they are trained to beat (spank) others to prove their righteousness.

Please bring your children to restaurants, to grocery stores, to coffee shops, to everywhere. Please allow your children to have a little wildness. I enjoy that wildness, that play, because that is how the children are learning their most successful lessons of positive interactions. Seeing those kids are what give me hope for them as adults. Seeing those kids makes me happy, amused, and gives me faith of them growing up healthy.

Fun within limits, fun within public, fun among other adults, this is what raises that caring and loving child that can make compromises, that can be comfortable with strangers in public places without the over-whelming fear of disapproval, the memory of beatings that drive anger, hate, and fear.

Be loving, be strong, and say “Fuck you” to those that can’t handle seeing children learning in public spaces. Maybe their parents shouldn’t have been beating the fuck out of them for acting like kids instead of robots.

– Duckin’ Kev

Today the dogs and I took a trip up to the foothills to bury Lili. The dogs ran all over and played, but I buried Lili. I choose a spot that didn’t look over the hurt and pain of Bakersfield and people. Instead, I gave her a view of hope and the home of my heart, where I would like to be, on the other side of over there. Also the hillside is super soft, so I could dig a nice deep hole and know she would be safe. Did I mention soft? I placed her down and with her looking peacefully asleep, I gave her back to the Mother.

After the burial, we went on a hike, towards that last ridge, though I only went down one canyon, up that next hill, and down another canyon.

When I got to the first ridge, I’m looking out and see something floating. I focus in and eventually can see it is a mylar balloon. Not just a balloon, but it is actually a heart-shaped balloon. I’m watching it in complete disbelief. It is in a canyon, nothing, nobody is near, yet an escaped balloon, at that very moment crossed my eye’s path. I watch it floating and it stops in front of me. I begin to video it, and it just stays, like it was talking to me. As I put down my camera, it suddenly takes off, straight up to heaven. As I am watching it rise, a raven flies by, does a body roll in the air, and sticks around to escort it up and away.

I’m not a religious person, but as far as coincidences are concerned, I got place that on the highly odd, unlikely coincidence list. If you watched NCIS at all, you know how Gibbs feels about coincidences. I choose to take that as a visual representation that Lili was finally at peace, and I really did what was right. I choose to take it as a sign, I can wash away my doubts, my guilt. Lili was a duck that had to have the last word. That was the most beautiful last word ever.

I crossed that canyon and looked back. I could see my car and somewhere near that black circle is Lili’s grave.

I turned back around and looked into the distance. Every fiber of my muscles was saying walk, walk, keep walking. It can’t be that far. I resisted, but I still found myself dropping over the edge, to the next canyon, purely out of having to know what treasures may be found.

I have a low set bar for what I consider a treasure. Mostly, I just treasure the Earth. This time, I was rewarded by finding petrified woods sticking out of the face of the hill. A lot of petrified wood. Mostly. I broke open one piece and was stunned to find the wood was not fully petrified yet. Right in the middle, there was still wood. Soft, crumbly wood. Like a cake pulled from the oven just a minute too soon. I didn’t take pictures of that, but I did bring the two halves home. What I did take pictures of, I didn’t bring home. In some of the pictures, I interpret that the tree was not healthy when it died. It looked like it may have had an infestation of some sort and was weakened. My guess is there was a large storm with wind that knocked the tree down, with gusto, judging by the many pieces, and then the rain may have caused a landslide that buried the tree right after it fell. Those fossils were potentially my most amazing find yet.

Happily I chose to wear my “cop” pants that happen to have lots of pockets which meant I was able to load up my pockets as well as carry some bigger pieces back to the car. On the way back up the hill, I stopped at Lili’s grave, which was hard to find, as I intended, and placed one the fossil tree pieces as a muted headstone. The idea is that petrified wood will continue on to help petrify Lili’s spirit, in my heart at least.

I drove out there, with just the expectation of quiet. What I got was the loudest of peace, the loudest of free.

‘Til we meet again, Lili, enjoy your wings, enjoy your flight, you deserved it more then anyone could imagine.

-Duckless Kev