This little guy is my favorite - I bought him in Wilmington at a bonsai nursery; he was perched next to one of those little miniature trees and I asked if he was for sale. The owner said yes - ten dollars. A little steep, but I always like to bring back a turtle when I take a trip, so I bought him. When we got in the car, I put my glasses on so I could admire him and realized his head had been broken completely off and put back together with some type of blue expoxy. I'd been totally ripped off, but told myself I'd rescued the turtle from his evil owner. Isn't he cute?




I couldn't help wondering how he'd broken his neck - did he forget to look both ways when he crossed the road?


The Perils of Being Overly Cautious

The first time I crossed the street by myself, my mother uttered the same three words that mother's have uttered since there were streets to cross: "LOOK BOTH WAYS." Good advice. On the street as well as in life, what doesn't hit us from one direction often barrels down on us from the other.

The turtle is the perfect poster child for being cautious- slow and steady wins the race, right? Lots of the time, yes. As much as I appreciate my own turtle qualities, there have been times that I've been too cautious. Like the day I almost killed my mother-in-law.

That was the day I learned a painful lesson: Being too cautious can be just as disastrous as being too impulsive. The overly cautious turtle person's thinking goes something like this" "Should I or shouldn't I: cross the road, take the job, start that business, marry the girl, etc." Answer: "I don't know; it seems like a good idea now, but what if I do it and then..............." Complete with your own personal catastrophe.

The day I almost killed my mother-in-law began innocently enough. She'd come to visit us in Tampa and I decided to be a good daughter-in-law and take her shopping in the big city. Unfortunately I'd forgotten Mom didn't like to shop. Frustrated that my attempts at bonding were lost on her, I decided it was time to head home. By then it was rush hour and the southbound traffic was backed up at the light. We needed to go north.

I've always hated making left hand turns out into traffic, but the alternative in this case was to get in the slow moving lane and inch along until I could find somewhere to turn around. It seemed like the sissy way out and so I just waited, hoping there would be a break in the flow of traffic.

Just then a car in the lane closest to me slowed to a stop and motioned for me to pull out, his gesture signifying the coast was clear. "So you say," I thought to myself as I waved back a gesture that meant, "Thanks, I'll wait."

He persisted, waving harder this time. "It's ok," he mouthed. I gulped and saw that he was right. I inched out, "looking both ways" to be sure. Telling myself "be careful, take it slow, it will be ok, easy now," I crept forward a bit further, then a little more. Congratulating myself for being so cautiously brave, I triumphantly turned the wheel right into the path of a pick-up truck that had changed lanes just as I finally committed to my left turn. I never saw him coming.

My car was totaled, mo mother-in-law vowed she'd never set foot in a car with me again (she hasn't) but other than that only my pride was hurt.

Moral of the story: Look both ways, but when the coast is clear, make your move. As countless turtles have learned the hard way: He who hesitates is road kill.