Saying yes...

Who Says Fish Are Cold-Blooded

Dr. Fish is giving us a glimpse of his softer side. Go read his post about his daughter's 2:30 AM wake-up calls. There isn't a parent alive who doesn't have a love/hate moment with that time when a sweet little child realizes they can get what they need from themselves and that we won't be heroes forever.

She had learned a lesson tonight. She had learned that she could not always rely on her father for comfort. She had learned to comfort herself. While this was the lesson that had to be taught, was the lesson I had taught, I found no comfort in it.

I found loss.

Read the rest here.

Overheard...

I overheard the eldest lamblet talking to her sister the other day. She saying something about, "Mom and Dad being semi-happily married for X number of years...". I had to step in and ask her what she was talking about. She said that her father and I seemed to be happy together, but there were also many times when we were less than thrilled with each other. As I started to launch off on my "Marriage is a Challenge No Matter How Much You Love Someone" speech, she cut me off and said, "No, I think semi-happily married is a good thing. The marriages where people are always swearing they're 100% happy are the marriages where one of them ends up dead!"

No doubt killing each other with kindness... :)

Bird Nirvana!!!

Updated below:

As was mentioned a few weeks ago, a new bird had been hanging around our place. At first I thought it was a Chickadee or some variety of Junco, but it turned out to be a Red-Breasted Nuthatch. I had never seen a Nuthatch before, but apparently they're in our area in record numbers since 1989.

It seems as though Nuthatches are also a calm bird, the only bird that will stay at the feeder while squirrels and/or people are around. Our area newspaper ran an article stating that it was fairly easy to get one to eat from your hand! I so wanted to try, but of course didn't have many Nuthatch sightings after the one where I realized what it was.

Well today, today while reading, I looked up from the Sunday paper and saw not one, but two in our back tree. I ran to the basement (it's garden-level) to get a better look at them, you can see the feeder from this spot. I noticed the two frolicking on the tree. They are indeed tree-clingers and were much smaller than I originally thought.

They flew off so I figured it would be a good time to fill up the feeder. Two slacker squirrels had just had their way with it and it appeared to be empty. I filled up a container with bird feed and went out back into our icy tundra. I was paying more attention to all of the ice and doggie land mines and not so much on the tree so wasn't I surprised when I got to the feeder and there were my nuthatches, literally inches from my face. They danced, they swung upside down on branches, they flitted to the feeder as I was thinking about filling it. I was just frozen with the excitement of these teeny-tiny, cute little birds taking care of business right in front of me. Did I say RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME? I did, but I had to say it again because I've never had birds just hang out in front of my face. Sure, I've had plenty of Seagulls try to attack my grocery bags in the parking lot. I've spent my fair share of time wading through pigeons in the park, but something about these birds was different. I expected them to fly away the minute they heard me clomping over the ice. BUT THEY DIDN'T! They were inches from me!

And then... then the best thing happened... I remembered the article had said they'll eat out of your hand. I didn't have any peanuts handy (how they can eat peanuts is beyond me, these are tiny! Smaller than a Peep!), but I was holding the container of bird seed. I poured some into one of my hands and held it out. The male spied it and kept tilting his head way to one side to get a look and then way back the other way to look at the feeder. The next thing I knew, he swooped into my hand. I flinched a tad and he hopped off and went for the feeder. He was still much less than a foot away.

I wanted to stay and see if I could get one of them to land in my hand again, a bird in the hand and all, but I knew the lamblets would love this. I went inside, made them get dressed asap and hauled them out on a cold Sunday morning. The birds did not disappoint. While none landed in our open hands, they did do their bit of prancing, dancing and scurrying right in front of us. They also regaled us with their gentle chirps and their crazy lady calls. You're right Lance, they do sound like a crazy woman locked up in the attic and yes, I was able to differentiate from my own cackles. :)

The birds even humored us long enough for the eldest lamblet to run in and get her camera. She got a photo of the female (her breast is just tinged with the slightest bit of rust whereas the male is much redder) clinging to the tree. Credit for the above photo goes to her.

Update: Anyone with nuthatch experience please feel free to chime in. As I mentioned above, I had never actually seen one of these birds until this winter. The ones I have seen have definitely had a very rusty breast and would fall into the Red-breasted Nuthatch category. After looking at more images today, the one in my daughter's photo almost looks more like a White-breasted Nuthatch. Would a white and red hang out together? The other bird of the pair I saw today was definitely had a red breast and was a more intense blue which led me to believe the one above was the female.

I'll be out back tomorrow with my salt-free, non-roasted peanuts. My neighbors will probably start to think I'm a scarecrow.

ATPCT: Saying no edition

As most of you know, I started teaching an adult (adult in my class's case being anyone between 67-83) painting class back in September. When I was first offered the class it sounded intriguing. It sounded like another way to get out of the house doing something I love. It was to be a simple once a week thing with other people who love painting, but few things are ever really simple.

As time went on, it became clear that "learning at your own pace with individual instruction" would mean I was going to have to plan 5 different levels of activities. I would also have to set up a still life for those who didn't feel like participating. Of course I'd also have to listen to those who didn't want to participate at all no matter what I had done, but who would let me know all through class that I had let them down.

As time went on not only was I spending lots of extra time trying to come up with the magic plan, I was spending extra amounts of time worrying about their reactions, their contentment, their creative development. Most of all I wanted this class to be a fun place to be where creativity was thriving. Some were very on board, but some had to drag their feet the entire way. I tried to ignore, I tried to thicken my skin, but as time went on, I noticed I didn't even want to be around my own easel. If I were working on something for myself, I felt like I should be using the time for the class. Eventually, enough was enough. This was not how I wanted to spend my time. This was not the point of my journey so... I called the cultural affairs director and told her that after this next session was over, I would be going on my way.

This blog is entitled Saying yes... because that rule was ingrained in me during my couple of years in the Second City training center. You said yes so that forward motion would not be stopped. You said, "Yes and..." and you built on what had come before. Well, sometimes you have to say no in order to move forward. I have approximately 10 more weeks before I am officially through, but at least I have said my official no. I feel like I can look at my easel again.

Yes, it's a rerun, but it's still pertinent

We had some major thunderstorms yesterday. There's nothing better than a thunderstorm after a few solid months of winter. The tension cracks, there is release. If there is not enough rain during the storm or there was too much snow, one other result is less snow, but lots of dirty snow. It's looking rather sad out there. It's looking pretty *squallory* out there and while I am over snow, I'm actually looking forward to the additional inch or two we're supposed to get tonight/tomorrow. It might cover up some of the realities of winter.

Neverlettes humming in the sun...

Last night while waiting for Grizzled's train to arrive, I was sitting and listening to the radio. Billy Joel's, "Only the Good Die Young" was on. I hadn't heard that song in a long time. I was semi-singing along, was semi-taking in the sights, when a line from the song finally dawned on me. It was:

The stained-glass curtain you're hiding behind
Never lets in the sun

For some reason, I have never put the two lines together or never thought of them together until now. Up until last night, my mind always sang, "neverlettes in the sun". I always assumed a "neverlette" was something like a nere-do-well and those neverlettes were just lazing in the sun. Egads...

I then compounded my embarrassment by confessing to Grizzled. I believe his response was something to the effect of, "What planet are you from???"

I then gave further proof of my alien status... Grizzled asked me something and I responded in a way I have been for as long as I have lived on this planet. I did not know the answer, but was doing something else so didn't have the ability to actually say, "I don't know", instead, I kind of hummed it much as you would a "Um-hmmm" or an "Uh-uh" or some such similar sound.  He  stopped what he was doing and asked if I had just kind of hummed, "I don't know"? Well, yes, yes I had. Everyone does. He disagreed. He did not think everyone did this. I do it, I believe I've heard my siblings do this. I believe my children do this, but then I can't use them as proof since they've been corrupted by me. I need a control group.

My question, and it has nothing to do with neverlettes, unless neverlettes hum their answers, my question is, does anyone out there do a kind of humming answer for "I don't know"?? Is this just my idiosyncrasy or is it more widespread? Maybe it's just something they do on Planet Neverlette.

"...but I am a changed woman now!!"

I was reading something really important.. cough... Brando's latest post... cough... when I heard the youngest lamblet talking to no one in particular. This is nothing new. She's been creating dialogue for as long as she could talk. If you hear her speaking somewhere in the house, you knows she's probably playing in a bathroom sink with various action figures. For a long time she had lengthy conversations with her invisible friend, Menny, but he hasn't graced this house for awhile, thank GAWD!

This morning she was merely talking to herself. I wasn't paying attention, but I then heard her utter, ".. but I've become a changed woman now!!" What had brought on the change? What major changes can a "woman" of almost 8 years really go through?

Ahhhhhh... she's figured out how to tie her own balloons. Yes, that will change you. That will make your future look entirely different. If only the changes were always that simple and that glorious.

Candy, candy everywhere...

Last night was the youngest lamblet's science fair. She and Grizzled had put together an awesome "Ultra-Simple Electric Generator". Aside from the worry caused by the fact that Grizzled went hog-wild when buying the magnets (they were so freaking strong, he could barely get them apart, even when attempting to slide them), all went well. We did notify the teacher not to put our lamblet's project right next to the computer or other electronics and as far as I can tell, no one with a pacemaker walked past.

All in all, the science fair seemed to be a success. I did notice 3 other "Ultra-Simple Electric Generators" although none of them had magnets as big as Grizzled's... There was the usual smattering of "what happens when you mistreat plants" displays. Some kids grew crystals. I always like those. I think my favorite (don't tell my lamblet) was the Guinea Pig Maze! Yes, there was an adorable guinea pig named, Kenny and you had to offer Kenny a variety of foods to see which would get him to move most effectively through the maze. I didn't give a hoot about the maze, but Kenny was adorable. He was also one of the longest guinea pigs I had seen in awhile. Grizzled though he looked more like a football.

What I didn't realize is that the "Kenny Project" would more or less foreshadow the entire science fair. Not only was Kenny being offered treats to move through the maze, but the visitors (mainly children) were being offered candy to move through the fair. I mentioned this phenomenon last year. Kids would often try to do an experiment that included candy so that more children would come to their booth. Well, now it seems candy doesn't have to have anything to do with the experiment... it's merely there as a draw. Yep, I saw big tubs of bubble gum and Nerds and Smartees set up right next to experiments that had nothing to do with them. Apparently a few kids were even handing out small toys.

Let me just say... WTF??? When did a science fair become all about candy or what toys you could get? Can an event not go by without a goody bag or a handout? I'm all for making an interesting display. I'm all for incorporating an alluring outcome, but to just have handouts so someone will walk past your booth? I thought it was sad.

Lord knows I've succumbed to goody bag pressure in my day, but I think I'm done. I'm for letting the event be all about the event, not what you can get... unless the event happens to be about candy. Pinko, I should have my Chocolate Skittles in a couple of days!

My idea of hell...

... would have to be a traffic circle. I don't get them. I don't like them. Don't make me use them. That means YOU, Grizzled. Don't say, "I need to drop off the truck, just follow me..." and then take the TRAFFIC CIRCLE!

A traffic circle in my mind is the wild west of traffic conditions. There are rules, but is anyone following them? Hell no! And that includes myself, because, as I wait for the people on my right to enter traffic circle hell, the people on my left are waiting for me and eventually, we all dive in at once, zig-zagging in and out of the two lanes until we're shot out onto our exit street. It's like Spirograph done with cars, except instead of one pen point making the lovely pattern, it's lots of large cars being driven by overly-caffeinated, sleep-deprived people somewhat like myself. Give me the expressway, give me downtown Chicago traffic. I'll even take the school drop-off lane and that's a scary place, just don't ask me to do the traffic circle. We're not made for each other. I can admit that.

What is made for me is chocolate. Note to self, don't buy the lamblets' Valentine-function chocolate a week or more before the slated events. Just don't do it. Even better, just buy something you don't like. It would be easier that way. They should put all stores that sell chocolate on the other side of the traffic circle with no alternative routes for getting there. I'd still love chocolate, but I'd snap back to reality and would realize that it is not a breakfast food.

Other random observation: I no longer live in a suburb. I live in some new-fangled place called an iceburb. My burb has been taken over by petrified mountains of snow that are peppered with jagged outcroppings of ice. More snow is scheduled for this afternoon. The new, fluffy as a bunny snow will cover and disguise the evil jagged piles of ice. I will no doubt back into a few while trying to avoid garbage cans that are precariously perched on top of the various parkway ice mountains. It will still be preferable to attempting the hell that is the traffic circle.

Of course, I could just stay inside with the remaining chocolate...

I voted for women

Blue Girl has an interesting post up today. She starts it off in her usual funny manner, but ultimately she reveals her serious point. There is a woman running for the office of President of the United States. A woman who, love her or hate her, has a very strong chance of becoming President. That is amazing. It is a truly historic moment and yet instead of focusing on this, the mainstream media is focusing on her baggage, whether real or imagined.

Yesterday, when in the voting booth, I did what I thought I'd never do. I voted with a gut reflex. I did the very thing I chided the soccer moms for doing. I'd like to console myself that what I did was more important. I did not vote out of fear, I voted because for once in my lifetime, there is a serious female contender for President.

When my oldest daughter was 5, someone gave her a book of American Presidents. She loved history from an early age and was enjoying the book. After leafing through a few times she asked me where the section was that had the women!?! We had a long chat, as long as you can have with a 5 yr-old, about rights hard won.

I am amazed that more people are not amazed that we are at such a momentous point in history.  Maybe it's because there are so many younger people who never knew a woman who was alive at a time when she couldn't vote. I'd like to think it is because we are so evolved that the fact that woman is running doesn't matter, but I know better. This is a momentous occasion and brushing it off as us being so beyond that is bullshit.

When at the booth yesterday, I had to pick the woman.