Friday, February 27, 2009

Hate Mail

Dear DB,

I thought you got your name from your fluffy/furry appearance. Turns out you get it from your ability to exponentially multiply.

I thought you made life easier... matter naturally congregating. Turns out you're only meeting to conspire... against me.

I thought it was handy you clung to the bottom of my "gathering tool," as if you wanted to be gathered. Turns out you cling so tight I have to touch you to pry you off. You practically require a hair pick for adequate removal.

Turns out you sense me coming near, and you run. You run for the nearest shelter.

Turns out you're intelligent and you're learning from past experiences. You creep out of your hiding places only when company is here and I can't attack you in propper fashion.

You've worn me out. I thought I had you corralled last night, but I came home from work this morning and you'd all escaped. You were scattered everywhere. You even made me curse.

This is war. I'm taking it to the mattresses, horse head and all.

Damn dust bunnies.



Wednesday, February 25, 2009

That's Not a Car... It's a Nest

Photobucket
(my walk-by hip-shot)

As seen at the grocery store parking lot last night. The back seat was piled with "nesting stuff" up to the window level. The yapper dog ran back and forth across it barking at me. Hopefully you can see the passenger seat.
Note: "Nesting stuff" included trash, things, junk and more things.

Friday, February 20, 2009

Are Manatees Still Endangered?



In elementary school I remember being introduced monthly to a new endangered animal. Since 6th grade graduation, no one's been keeping me up to date.

How are manatees doing? I remember being shown a series of pictures in Ranger Rick that depicted manatees with gashes and scars all over their body. The caption under the pictures suggested that Florida boaters were cutting the gentle sea cows up with their props.

How are eagles doing? I see a lot of them in Ellensburg, WA whenever I drive through, but weren't they endangered? Maybe I'm just thinking of how it's illegal to kill them because they're our national bird. I also remember hearing horror stories of what happened to little kids that picked eagle feathers up off the ground and kept them in their bedrooms. Hint: the word juvy was dropped.

How are killer whales doing? I remember there was a number you could call (shown after Free Willy) where you could donate money and you would get a Keiko Killer Whale necklace and help free other droopy fin whales.

How are woodpeckers doing? I thought they sounded so exotic, until we moved to Washington. My parents still have 5 of them living in their yard and the word woodpecker is always preceded with #%$*.

I know the Hawaiian Monk Seal is still on the list, because one of my friends in Hawaii had monthly court appointments he had to keep as they decided whether he would serve time for surfing near a Monk Seal protected island.

I guess "they" have decided kids can worry about endangered animals and adults can worry about global warming. Ray and I are loving global warming. Seattle has been all sun this Winter... well, comparatively.


(not Binny, but uncanny resemblance)

Note from the editor: This topic was planted in the author's mind when she accidently killed her husband's beta fish. The same beta fish that adorned their wedding reception table. The same beta fish that kept said husband company on the long, cold nights while author was slaving over very sick people. The author thought a fish should be able to survive in an unheated apartment while author and husband were gone for the weekend. She thought wrong.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

In Honor of the Roman Saint that Was Martyred... Valentine

Note to the Reader: If you're tired of blogs, articles, advertisements about Valentines Day. Skip the sentences with "love" and just read "Funny Story."

Scenario:
  • Ray was gone for business last week, to fly home on the afternoon of Feb 14th.
  • I was gone to Moses Lake trying to get my name legally changed (Side Note: I got to the DMV right as it opened, I was 3rd in line, still sat there for 54 minutes before they called my number).
  • We both planned to meet up on the "Night of Love" in Seattle, for a night of... LOVE.

What Happened Next:

  • On the "Day of Love" I came home to find our new apartment had a beautiful pot of planted red tulips sitting on the kitchen table.
  • There were other things tucked throughout the house also, but they are of a more delicate nature (aka consisting of lace) and so shall be mentioned only here with absolute vagueness.
  • On tulips there was a beautiful note that drew likeness to the color of the tulips and the color of my toenails... Seductive Red



  • I gave Ray white chocolate, pineapple, strawberries, apples, bananas and cream puffs for our Fondue Pot. We had that at our Idaho reception and both of us mourned the fact we didn't get to eat it. It was a hit.

The Point:

  • This was my very first "Man Love" Valentines Day, and the closest thing to it was 2nd grade when Ben Martin wrote "I love you" on my Smurf valentine. Second grade was a looooong time ago.
  • It felt really good... to get a "Man Love" Valentine.

Funny Story:

  • The day after Valentines Day, Ray is sitting on the couch in the living room and calls back to the bedroom, "Cali, should your tulips be sitting next to the heater?" I reply with, "Ummm, I think it's okay. Why?" He pauses for a minute then makes the casual remark, "Because I'm sitting here looking at them and I can see them opening. As in I can see them moving... in real time." I come out to witness the phenomenon. Sure enough, I no longer have tulips. I have daisies.
  • They're now adorning our front stoop, where the heater can't reach them.
  • This event shook Ray's trust in my ability to keep living things alive. I killed Binny our fish the day before. No kids this year.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

He Thinks I'm Cute... he hasn't seen me in an apron, yet


For a few months, when I was 15, my mom tried to make me cook dinner one night a week for the family. It worked for a few weeks, but then I wore her resolve down. I hated being forced to cook. I was willing to work in the garden, yard, field or do ANYTHING outside in exchange for doing kitchen "stuff."

It was a conscious decision to end the meal-a-week deal. The conversation ended with my mom bearing witness that "meals bind families," and me promising that I was a heat-of-the-moment learner. I pledged I too had a testimony of family meals and when I needed the skill, I’d develop it.

Well, fast-forward to the current inferno I’m in (cooking dinner for man I now call husband). I’d like to inform you all that Nursing (not those meal-a-week session) has prepped me for my current cooking situation. Joint Commissions (JCAHO) inspects all hospitals every 2 years. Everyone gets all nervous when they come to pay their little visit. They inspect every aspect of the hospital and the one nurses fear most is when a JCAHO representative asks (read: interrogates) a nurse about a certain policy, procedure or scenario. During my first JCAHO inspection, I figured out that I didn’t need to know the answer to most of their questions. All I needed to be able to say was, “I don’t know, but I do know how to find out. Let me find out for you.” Phew, off the hook with that simple response.

(my first meal)

That off-the-hook phrase works just as well when it comes to cooking. I don’t really need to know what waiding sugar and butter means. I don’t really need to know what barding poultry joints means. I don’t even need to know how to coddle an egg. All I need is Neighbor Jane's phone number and my good ol’ butler Jeeves.

I do not jest. Jane, Jeeves and I are keeping Raymond well fed. So well fed, that I had to stop by Target the other day to buy a scale. Our scale is high tech (on sale for $24) and even tells us what our body fat percentage is. On the first day of our purchase, I was ecstatic to see I only had 2% body fat… until I realized it thought my height was 6’2”. That night Ray had an even more shocking experience. He came out of the bathroom and asked, “Could you make me a salad for dinner?” Our scale (now dubbed Obesius) told Ray he was 28% body fat. The next morning Obesius had only worse news to report. Ray had gone up 1% in body fat. Neither one of us can figure out where he’s stashing that 28% on his 6’6” frame, but until we do he’s only letting me feed him two meals a day and requesting salads.


(aforementioned salad)

So I guess the point of all this is that you don’t need a meal-a-week deal to create fat and sassy husbands… just high tech scales.


(our new scale)


Note: At first my title was "The dinner table is where families are made." After a few giggles I erased it... with much sorrow.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Happy Birthday


Today is Charles Darwin and Abe Lincoln's 200th Birthday. I wonder if the earth sighed that day in 1809... to have two world-changing additions, and all in one day.

I'm perplexed by google's icon choice though. Not even a hint of Abe on the icon. Maybe they alternate years, Lincoln gets one then Darwin gets one. I'm also surprised the image they chose for Darwin didn't have a monkey, even if it was his Galapagos finch that started it all.

Happy Birthday Charles and Abe. Abe, I knew it was your birthday and I've thought about you a lot today. Charles, I didn't even know today was your day until just now when I was searching for Lady GaGa lyrics. Thank you both for filling my head with things to ponder.

Side Note: Ray, Lady GaGa is singing "Can't read my, can't read my poker face" not "Cutie Pie, Cutie Pie poker face" (But Shhhhhh, I won't tell anyone and I say we sing it how we want to sing it)