Quote of the Week

"We've heard that a million monkeys at a million keyboards could produce the complete works of Shakespeare; now, thanks to the Internet, we know that is not true." - Robert Wilensky

Litter Blitz

This Friday a few girls from my department and I decided to participate in a litter blitz down the main street that runs past our campus. When I signed up for this, I had originally imagined cleaning an area up of trash and then calling it a day. What I didn't imagine was being dropped off by the shuttle two miles from campus in 103 degree weather and watching the shuttle drive away as we started our trek back. I felt like I should have been wearing an orange vest. When you are speeding along, you don't really realize how much trash there actually is on the side of the roads. Lids, bags, packing peanuts, cigarettes. Why has it become socially acceptable to throw cigarette buts out of the window? Did I miss some sort of notice of biodegradability? Or condiment packets? Who puts ketchup on fries and chucks the packet out the window? Just throw it on the car floor like the rest of us. It was worst under trees and bushes where papers and cups had probably hidden for months. The dead bird I should have probably left alone and the black metal object that burnt off my top layer of skin was one of those hindsights as well. When we made it back and dropped off our bags at the dumpster, every part of me was covered in sweat. As I took off my gloves, water just ran out from the pools that had collected in the fingertips of the oversize fingers. My hands were pruny, as if I had spent 5 hours in the bath or I suppose, 1 hour covered in sweat. Thank goodness for a fitness center with showers. The best part was Laura who kept mentioning that she felt deceived by the activity's description as she hovered in each shaded spot along the way. I just told her to get her limping gazelle butt going because I wasn't going to carry her when she passed out. We all know I would have but I wasn't going to offer it up...it was freaking hot. It was a worthwhile effort but I think that the biggest lesson learned was to check the 7 day forecast before you go signing up for things. Why would you want to volunteer for something that doesn't involve comfort...

Virginia Aquarium

Our other stop in VA Beach was a trip to the aquarium. It happened to be under construction when we went and with that came limited access to several of the exhibits but the two tide pools were open and those are the parts I was most excited for. I had never had the courage to actually touch a stingray before and figured this was the year. The aquarium is split into two buildings, the first of which has the sharks, rays, fish and other full-time under water animal varieties.

The second building dealt more with the marsh inhabitants and was a mere 3/4 miles away from the first. It was a pretty trail but 3/4 mile tends to get longer when carrying an extra 35 pounds.

As noted in the beach dialog, storms were rolling in and out of the area our entire stay and it was no different during our trip to the aquarium. We made the trek during a break in the rain and about half way, it mentioned something about a tree outlook. Sounding fun, I head down that trail and end up at a four story building that overlooks the marsh in the distance. I start to head up the stairs when I hear John, who has just now made it to the clearing. "You are going to climb that now?". Clueless, I turn around to face him with a "Why not?" "It is a 50 foot metal tower in the middle of a thunder storm. You are on your own with that one". Ah. So, no tree outlook, but we did get to stop in a giant nest and be birds, so I suppose that is something.

This is Joshy when I told him to look scared.

As I said, there was a focus on the marsh theme and what is there in marsh lands but Cordgrass. How do I know this, you ask. Well, I had the pleasure of watching the Cordgrass video with Cordy the Cordgrass a good twelve hundred times. Ben would push the black button, scoot back and then sit himself down on the ground to watch Cordy explain the life cycle of grass through the seasons.
I never did get Joshy to join me in touching a stingray, but Ben, our fearless one, was game. The problem is that they never quite came high enough for me to get his hand on one. There is something just so magical about an aquarium. The fish the size of your torso. The fish that glow. The replica of an underwater exploration vehicle full of a field trip's worth of heat-generating kids. My fondest aquarium memory is in New Orleans. I still remember the feeling of walking into that underwater tunnel and being surrounded by water. It felt like I truly was getting to view a part of the world it was unnatural to see. A visitor into someone elses world. The aquarium in Boston...all I remember is penguins. Monterrey Bay aquarium is such a faint memory that all I can remember is the pool of starfish that you could pick up and hold in your hand. And I remember snakes. A room of snakes and holding a boa constrictor around my neck. And dinosaurs? There is a chance I am combining some memories...

More than anything, I want the boys to be able to experience the same awe and wonder drawn from such a curious and foreign world. Plus, aquariums come with air conditioning, much unlike their cousin the zoo.

Melmo

Before this past week, I had never heard Ben say Elmo's name, had no idea he knew who Elmo was, and couldn't have even told you where Joshy's Hokey Poky Elmo was. Fast forward to this weekend and whenever curly hair enters your eye line, so does red fur. That Elmo is more than half his size, but it is carried about the house, put down only to Hokey Poky and then picked up again. As a general rule, if Ben is not distracted by toys, he is attached to me at the hip. Trying to get my breakfast in before he noticed me, I had grabbed my donut and slipped into the bathroom, thinking I had missed his sight. Right. So, there I sit eating my donut in the bathroom, me, Ben and Elmo. When he does Hokey Poky, Ben starts swinging his arms along and turning when we "turn ourselves around". He is so happy when with his friend. Tonight I snapped a couple of pictures but then he became fascinated with the camera once he noticed me, so I kept saying "Where's Elmo??" to try and shift his focus back to what I was trying to capture. I must have said it four or five times when Joshy finally walks over, picks up the doll from in front of me and says "He is right here." Thank you Joshy.

Virginia Beach

The last two days that we were in Virginia we stayed near Virginia Beach. The boys had never been to a proper beach before, so even though the forecast called for nothing but scattered showers, I was determined to rush to the beach at the first sight of sun. Come Saturday afternoon, it seemed that the sky had cleared, so we braved our way out to the coast, beach blanket and sand toys in tow. Joshy had loved splashing in the river and using that as reference, couldn't wait to get his feet in the ocean. We set up and soon watched Joshy and B head towards the waves. We then watched Joshy head back from the waves that were cold and high from the storms passing through. Advantage river. Tina loves the water and was soon wading out to sea. Wet and sandy has just never appealed to me. The idea of trekking into cloudy water with unseen animals and slimy plants with more skin exposed than you would ever think of as wise in any other dirty, treacherous place makes little sense. So, as Tina swam, the boys and I played in the sand as God intended beach trips be spent. When the wind began to pick up again, it should have registered as a good idea to wrap up our window of beach time. Still, it was a warm wind, so we stayed on. When the first drop landed on my head, we began to pick up our things to head to the car. In a matter of 30 seconds, the one drop had turned into a downpour. Not summer rain downpour. Raining so hard you can't see downpour. Tina is running in from the ocean, I am frantically packing the bags, tossing all beach toys in the trash as not worth carrying. The boys are screaming as John scoops them up and I throw beach towels over their head. I can barely see through the rain clouding my lenses and flooding my eyes. John has run ahead with the boys, I have the bags and grab the beach blanket to follow. The problem? The blanket now weighs what must have been 20 to 30 pounds. Too much to carry with all the belongings, I begin to drag it across the sand. With every puddle of water we pass, it gains more and more weight. At this point I am walking backward, body and beach bags soaked, using my body weight to pull this monstrosity of a beach blanket that seemed like such a good idea in theory. I reach the car where John and the boys are huddled as I had the keys. We throw everything into the car and get the boys inside when the rain stops as quickly as it started. The boys are puddles in the back seat while I stand with water still running down my arms and legs. From the bags I pull the semi-dry clothing and we begin to change. Thinking I have figured a way to change by putting on clothes and then taking off the suit from underneath, I began to change myself while John finished with the boys. Suddenly I hear, "Laura!!" and look down to realize that my shirt had come up and I was on full display to the couple walking nearby. I adjust while Tina laughs and John runs over with a towel. This day just keeps getting better and better. We finally get into the car and back towards the hotel, counting our first beach trip filled with sandcastles, drenching and public nudity a success. Next time I think I will take them to the gulf where the water is blue and warm and nudity, I hear, is more accepted...

Quote of the Week

"Silent gratitude isn't very much use to anyone." - Gertrude Stein (1874-1946)

This Old House

I have a flower bed that is taking a beating from the 99 degree sun, a front window with a hole from a rock thrown out of a neighbor's lawn mower, a clog in our main line that the plumber says looks like oil from working on a '57 Chevy in a garage and has to be scoped to find the degree of bad (good is apparently no longer in the equation), a huge white spot in the living room where the plaster had to be fixed and a nest of birds living between a crack in our stone but when I sit back and watch my family run around in our front yard and look down our street through a sea of shutters and green lawns, I wouldn't trade the character of this beautiful old house and its neighborhood of counterparts for anything. I am entirely blessed. Aggravated and stressed as crap. But blessed.

Dessert for the Brain

Anyone who knows me, knows how much I appreciate a good laugh. To have someone willingly jump in on a train of thought that is equally as entertaining as it is of no life importance whatsoever or to see something that is so adorably unfortunate or interestingly peculiar that it pulls your scattered thoughts to a singular focus can propel a week. Stepping back today, I just realized that these lasts couple weeks have been full of those moments and what an incredible gift it has been. I have watched someone go out of their way to park their pricey motorcycle far away from all the cars as to not risk anyone breathing on, no less dinging, their bike, only to lay it down when dismounting. I have watched a bird in the grass, perfect grass manicured by overpaid gardeners on retainer, and wondered as it squatted down and then back up again if birds did both number 1 and number 2. I have sat and had a brother-in-law and sister know off hand the answer to the question. I have learned that you should not watch nature specials with people who have gone through advanced animal biology. I have hashed out the likelihood of passing out when being boiled by oil and what is the line you draw with comas. None easy answers to find. I started by thanking someone for a diet coke that culminated in her calling me a mobster, me suggesting Dick Tracy and then deciding it wouldn't work as it was too long and calling me Dick would just be awkward. I have someone playing along in a game borne of me paying for an ice cream and them refusing to take the dollar, which I then taped to the outside of their window and has now migrated into a back and forth of dollar hiding until the ultimate winner finds the spot in plain sight that eludes the discovery of the other player. The downfall of this particular competition is that we don't mention when the dollar has been found or replaced which led to a panicked office search at 5:30, standing on my office chair, threatening the person walking by to not say a thing and then finding out that the dollar hadn't even been hid yet because it was still on her desk. It has been decided that living in a solely self-sustaining fashion is doable when you think food but gets tricky when you move on to clothing. Anyone here a good teacher on how to weave cotton cloth? And of course there is the standard summer debate of whether it is worse to be too hot or too cold. Most people go with cold, but I quickly persuade them otherwise. It is simple. You can always put more on but can only take so much off. All of our plates are so full. Not enough hours at work. Not enough hours at home. What would we do without a world full of ridiculousness and people who will discuss the finer points of moon walking and plant care simultaneously? Those five minutes here and there are priceless. In fact, one might just say that they rock.

Whoopee

It is amazing the amount that can be accomplished with a dollar. Children can be bribed, nights of sleep preserved, laughs generated and video captured documenting the particular manner in which one perfects the art of the whoopee cushion.

(Note: Yes, I know there is a ton of laundry on the couch waiting to be folded. My maid staff just happened to be out sick that day.)

The Phone

John was talking to his sister, Laura, on the phone on his way home from picking up the boys from daycare. I was upstairs balancing the checkbook when they walked in the door and I could tell from the canter in his voice it was her on the other line. As Joshy usually does, he found me in the house first thing in order to say Hi. So, into my room he comes and says, "Hi Mom, Dad's talking to you on the phone...". I just laughed. When you are always Mom, I forget that he knows my name.

I Pledge Allegiance

Me and all three boys went to another baseball game this past Friday. It was my department along with their families, which actually ended up with three boys all the same age. As the game started, we all stood for the National Anthem and stared in the direction the players stared even though I never did see the flag. We all had our hand over our heart but when I looked down to instinctively check on Joshy, he was holding his hands in front of him like you would for a prayer. It made me smile...big.

As an aside, during the game, they apparently put up a K every time the pitcher strikes a player out. I didn't know this fact, nor really notice the K's until around the 4th inning when I happened to look in that direction and notice the fence said KKK. It struck me as a strange thing to advertise but when I leaned over and said "Um...what is up with the Ku Klux Klan shout out in center field?" the strike thing was explained. If they get ten, we would get something free. Not something I was worried about with how the game was going. Why K? Why not S or X or something less random? Just goes back, once again, to the point that people should ask my opinion prior to all major decisions. Chick-fil-a...I hope your listening.

Crab Fest

One of my fondest memories from vacations in Virginia involve my Pop getting a crate of crabs and setting up shop in his garage for dinner. It was the first place that I learned how to dissect a whole crab and segregate the "do" and "do not" eat. It having been awhile, I needed a refresher when we sat down, only remembering vaguely something about dead man fingers that were in the "do not". Pop walked us through popping off the shell and breaking it in two and how to end up with a leg topped by a good chunk of meat. Getting a big chunk of meat is like a treasure. Usually you work your tail off for a sliver a meat pulled from the claw. Sliver because 3/4 of it tore off inside and it will take another layer of thumb skin to break apart enough shell to get it out. If you are thinking of Red Lobster and crab legs the size of your head...don't. We were not vacationing in Alaska. These were fresh from the Chesapeake Bay and even if I was required to burn more calories than I ate, it is still the meal I look forward to the most and remember most fondly.

As we tear through crab after crab the shell pile grows and grows. You can see the mountain starting between Brandy and Pop. Pop is the crab master and if you look pathetic enough, he hooks you up with a master size piece of meat. I do pathetic very well...

It was a fun meal, as it always is. The boys were less interested, so they just ran around the garage, occasionally being told to not touch a tool or hose. After Joshy saw Pop pretending to get Tina with the crab claw, he grabbed a fresh claw and joined in. That is how it goes. He sees it as a toy and I see it as the evil, bony fortress standing between me and food. Still, it beats a lobster. Ever since I learned that they go "Eeeeeeeeee" when you cook them, they totally freak me out.