We Caught a Critter!

Last year we had the pleasure of hosting a little possum family in our back yard. We actually discovered them because one early morning, just before 6 am, a baby possum - not much bigger than my fist - bumped into our patio door. Over the next few months we watched a mama and four or five babies as they traipsed through the yard occasionally on the way to their home in a little grove of trees and vines in the corner of the property. They never bothered us, we never bothered them, and even the cats only seemed mildly interested in our new neighbors. Eventually, we stopped seeing them. After doing a bit of research, I learned that possums are gypsies by nature and don't settle in permanent homes, but may return to favorite hang-outs off and on.

A couple of weeks ago we started hearing noises under the house. Rhett looked in the crawl space and couldn't see any animals, but did see a trail of food wrappers leading to the house. We had learned that possums are scavengers and wondered if our little friends had returned. I love those little possums, but I only love them in the yard. Once they start scratching around under my bathtub at 3:00 in the morning and giving me the heebie-jeebies, it's time to move along. Procrastinators that we are, we finally got the (humane) pest control guy called yesterday. He closed off the entry points to the crawl space and set a trap.



He also put some kind of cream filled cake in there, along with some peanut butter crackers, as bait. We woke up this morning and guess what we found...



A possum! Isn't he sweet? We are wondering if he's one of the babies from last year because he seems so small compared to the mama. Notice the empty cake wrapper. In America, even the little forest creatures are junk food junkies! I don't know about you, but when I eat too much sugar, I may feel good for a while, but eventually I crash and get really REALLY cranky...



I guess I'm not the only one! In all actuality, even though he looks like he's snarling at me in this picture, he's just showing me his teeth. Whenever I got close to the cage, he would just calmly open his mouth like he was saying, "See, they're pointy. I could bite you if I really wanted to, you know." Then he would close his mouth again and go back to being cute.

I think I'll name him Harold. He looks like a Harold, don't you think? I wonder where the pest control guy will release him. I honestly don't know if Harold would know how to survive in the wild. This is an urban possum who likes his fast food. I have a feeling if he gets dropped off in the woods, Harold will find his way back to the land of Twinkies and Doritos. Maybe he'll even drop in and say hello. But the Smith Bed and Breakfast for Possums is officially closed, so he'll have to use the campsite in the corner of the yard when he visits.

Study Break

I've been trying to force myself to get some homework done today. (Note: the keyword there is trying.) This afternoon, a squirrel caught my easily distracted eye, and I decided I should take a few minutes and play with my new camera. First, I tried to get a shot of the squirrel:





Of course I had to snap this with the optical and digital zoom through the patio door because when I head outside, he always disappears. (He's squirrely that way.) Most of the pictures turned out as a blur because he would always move as soon as I focused in on him. Next, I ventured on outside and snapped this:




I don't know why I even like this one. I just do. I guess it seems quiet and contemplative. Here's a shot of "The Little Begonia That Could":




When the weather got so unbearably hot last August, I gave up on keeping the flower pots on the front porch watered. When they became an eyesore, I asked Rhett to just stick them in the back yard. Once the weather cooled down, these little begonias came back with an explosion of red. I'm curious to see how long they last. One more:




Another survival story. After being horribly neglected during the heatwave, I actually wondered if the rose bush would survive. Not only did it survive, it is cheering up my mess of a flowerbed with its delightful pink goodness.


Well, I can't put off writing this silly poetry analysis forever. (Okay, I could, but I'd flunk.) I'm off to be a good little girl now - at least for a few minutes.

Whatever happened to "my dog ate my homework"?

Bomb threat today at school. Second time this week. I was turned away at the gate because the campus is on lockdown. Does somebody really think this is funny? Haven’t they heard that the beauty of college is if you don’t like it, just don’t go?


Oh well. I guess I’ll take a nap.

In Memoriam

Poetry is dead –
Killed by the over thinking of it.
Dissecting the once lyrical lines has made them stilted and stagnant.
Delving too deeply for hidden meaning has left me in nothing but a muddy hole.
I hear the authors groan collectively at the overworked interpretations and attempts at intellect.
“Just read it,” they say.
“Take it in; let it become a part of you. Listen to the songs we sang just for the singing of them.”
But in Academia, nothing can be just for the sake of being.
Every particle must be named and discussed and stretched thin.
Math likes it that way. Science thrives on it. History revels in reliving itself.
Even Prose weaves its way through verbal minefields invigorated by the adrenaline rush.
But not Poetry.
Poetry was a free spirit, flitting through our lives,
Leaving us changed, with us not realizing that Poetry had done the changing.
But then,
Poetry was trapped by a textbook and bound by a curriculum;
Forced to fit into the categories allotted to it, and
Then, finally, smothered by the weight of it all.
If only Poetry will forgive me!
Forgive me for the part I played in picking it apart until there was nothing left.
Gorging myself on the deliciousness of it until Poetry lost its flavor.
Oh Poetry – you will be sorely missed.

Jokes My Kids Told Me

Since there's a big writers' strike going on, and the late night shows are in jeopardy, I'd like to submit some of my boys' finer material for consideration. Jay, Dave, Conan - you know where to reach us if you want some of this comedy gold for your monologue!

Q: What do cannibals eat at parties?
A: finger food

Q: Why did the elephant sit on the marshmallow?
A: So he wouldn't fall in the hot cocoa

Q: What do you get when you cross Star Wars and road construction?
A: R2Detour

Then there's always the Chuck Norris jokes:

A lot of kids wear Superman pajamas... Superman wears Chuck Norris pajamas.

Most kids check their closet for the boogie man... The boogie man checks his closet for Chuck Norris.

;)

Ignorance is Bliss

Today I'm working on a little presentation for my Theatre class about The Angel Project, a self-guided theatre installation/walking tour of New York that was held during the Lincoln Center Festival in 2003. As I've been reading reviews, there seem to be two major questions asked over and over:
1. How do I tell who the "angels" are vs. who the normal people on the street are?
2. Why can't I have this experience every day just by taking a deeper look at the world around me?
That second question inspired me to take a few minutes and really appreciate the view from my kitchen table.

Just beyond my laptop I see a stack of school books that I still need to put away. And there's the paperwork from parent-teacher conferences that I still need to file. Is that a dirty sock one of the boys took off from church yesterday sitting on the dining table?!?!?

Maybe I should look out the window...

Uh oh. Oldest still needs to pick up the wood scraps from his latest project. And who left their socks under the trampoline? We have really got to get the leaves raked. It certainly wouldn't hurt to sweep the pine needles off the patio.

Perhaps I should try the kitchen again...

Oh crap. The laundry is staging a coup. There is dried scrambled egg on the counter because my children eat like farm animals. That plant is dying of thirst. I really need to mop this floor.

Oh, never mind...

I suddenly don't feel a need to appreciate my surroundings at all. I liked it better when my blinders were on.

Five Reasons Fall is My Favorite Season

1. The crisp air – it somehow signals to me that it’s time to snuggle up with somebody I love.
2. Hot cocoa – drinkable chocolate, need I say more?
3. Changing leaves – The world never looks more beautiful or more comforting to me than it does right now.
4. Pumpkins – pie, muffins, cookies, whatever… it’s all good!
5. Sweaters – I finally get to wear yarn and not just play with it. :)

Are We Done Yet? or ¡No Puedo Aprender Más!

I feel like I've hit a wall. I'm at that point in the semester when I just want to take a nap, and hopefully when I wake up it will be winter break. It's not that anything is really that difficult; I just don't seem to have the stamina to keep going. That's why I'm blogging right now instead of writing my two-page critique of Barefoot in the Park. And don't even ask me to conjugate subjunctive verbs in Spanish. I feel like that for every new Spanish word I learn now, one that I learned long ago falls out of my brain. I have reached full capacity. How on earth am I going to major in Spanish if learning to say, "Recomiendo que tú hables con tu mamá," means that I forget how to say, "¿Cómo estás?" Then there's the poetry paper, the research paper, the play analysis, etc... Never mind all the normal family chores that I'm supposed to be doing, but woefully neglecting. Let's just say I'm a little overwhelmed. So, I'm going to take that nap. I fully realize that when I wake up it won't be winter break yet - it will only be Saturday afternoon. But for now, that will have to do.

Finally, Some Knitting!

So, it's only day two of NaBloPoMo, and I'm squeaking in under the wire yet again. Tonight we went to see Barefoot in the Park at The Rep, and Rhett talked me into going out for dessert afterwards. Oldest and Middle are on a Scout campout, and Youngest is staying at Grandma's. I couldn't very well say no to pretending we don't have kids to come home to! At any rate, that got me home a little later, and then I spent the last fifteen minutes trying to figure out posting photos to the blog. Here we go!

This is the first time I've tried toe-up socks. I'm still trying to decide if I like it or not. The cast off seems a little ruffly to me, and the short row toe and heel aren't as portable as I'd like. It frustrated me when I couldn't take this project to school because I knew I'd have to concentrate too hard on the short rows. But hey, one down, one to go. I'm also working on this:

This is Wavy from Knitty. It seems like it's not as wavy as I'd like it to be yet, and it doesn't seem as wide, but it measures like the pattern. I made one of these for my niece a couple of years ago, and it seems like I had the same concerns last time, so I'll just keep on knitting.

I guess that's all for now. I had better post this quick before I miss the midnight deadline!

NaBloPoMo

So, a couple of weeks ago I heard about NaNoWriMo, where completely insane people spend the month of November cranking out a 50,000 word novel. First of all, I'm just not a fiction gal. Second of all, I really don't have the attention span. But tonight I read about NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), where people (who may or may not be sane) vow to post to their blog every day in November. Now that's more my speed, so of course I signed up right away. Since November 1st is almost over, I am hastily posting the little ditty you're reading now. Pardon me for the scattered, slap-dash post. Just think of it as my little way of saying, "Happy NaBloPoMo!"
P.S. (I keep hoping to finally post some pics of my latest knitting adventures, but real life keeps getting in the way. Maybe tomorrow.)