Category: Life as I know it

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The wonders of nature

When we were on vacation in Canada last month, I witnessed both the brutal and wondrous sides of nature. There was a little bird’s nest above the steps leading down from our boathouse to one of the docks, and when we arrived on the island there were 4 brand new, tiny baby Phoebes in it. A few mornings later, we opened the boathouse doors to find that the whole nest had been knocked down onto the steps, and the poor little babies were splayed all over the place. Unfortunately 1 of them did not make it, but the other 3 were amazingly still showing signs of life. So my sister M found a smallish cardboard box, put on some gloves, scooped up what remained of the nest, and fashioned a new little home for the surviving babies in that box. We put a rock in one end of it to weigh it down and placed it just off to the side of where it had fallen, in the hopes that the parents would come back and be able to see that there were still some of their offspring in there. Come on, Phoebes, your babies still need you!!

We watched that box from afar that entire day, hoping and pleading with the parents to come back and feed the youngsters in there, and lo and behold, they found it! We were absolutely thrilled. They were pretty tentative at first – like what in the world happened to our home? Where are our babies? Oh wait, they’re in this box now? Is this a trap? They would perch in the tree closest to the box and just hang out for a bit, singing their little Phoebe song, and then you’d hear the babies start peeping away. Feed us! Feed us!

Unfortunately, 1 of the 3 remaining babies perished within that first day. He was the worst-off of the trio, and M finally removed him and laid him in the garden area with the other one who didn’t survive. It was pretty clear that he wouldn’t live much longer even with the parents’ feeding, so we didn’t want them to reject the entire box nest if he was still in there. So those 2 received a nice little burial on the island, yet far enough away from the box to hopefully allow the other pair to thrive.

By the end of our stay, the Phoebes appeared to be a happy little family once again, even if reduced in members. The parents made regular trips into and out of the box, and you could see them removing the babies’ poop on their trips out, too. (i had no idea birds did this, the nest cleaning, but it makes sense. why would they want to sit in their poop all day?) It was so heart-warming to see how this little pocket of nature flourished in the face of tragedy, even if it was with a little help from us humans. The box babies would huddle together and peep when the parents were near, and it was the cutest thing ever to see them in there, heads tucked against each other, sheltering one another from whatever lie outside that box. They looked good when we left, so I sure hope they continued to grow and have maybe even moved into nests of their own by now. Or at least out of the box.

Baby Phoebes in their box nest

 

And another wonder of nature – human babies!! I finally met one of the 2 newest additions to our group of friends last night, Baby S, one of the most adorable little boys ever! It’s so fun that our kids will now have so many “automatic” friends with whom to grow up. I can just picture it now – the kids all corralled together playing while all us parents sit around with some drinks, most likely watching a Badgers, Brewers, or Packers game.

 

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Good deed?

Yesterday morning on my way to work I gave a homeless man some money. It was the first time I’d actually done so, even though I’ve seen numerous homeless people with signs asking for help over the years. And many of them I’ve seen on the same corner on which this man was standing with his small hand-written sign that read “HOMELESS PLEASE HELP GOD BLESS”.

Was I scammed? Was he really not homeless and just trying to get some extra money? Was he some sort of addict and turned right around to use my money to buy drugs or alcohol instead of a meal or other necessity? I don’t know. But what I do know is that every time I see a homeless person holding a sign asking for help and I drive right by, pretending I don’t see him to avoid actually catching his eye, I feel ashamed. For what if he really is homeless? What if he really does need help and will use whatever money he gets to find a meal or save enough for a shirt or a shower? What if he really has exhausted every other avenue and has finally been reduced to the humiliation of standing on a street corner with a small, unassuming sign, putting himself at the mercy of total strangers to spare some change or even a dollar? If those “what ifs” are true, then who am I to speed right past him, not even acknowledging that another human needs help, and deem him unworthy of my assistance?

So today I finally gave. Do I want a gold star for my generosity? No, I’m just telling an anecdote. I had seen this particular man once before, and I just felt like helping. I wanted to give him $5, but all I had was a $10 this morning, so I guess today was his lucky day.

And it may have really been his lucky day if he was, in fact, just out there scamming people and already had a boat-load of money and didn’t actually need to be standing there. He might have yelled “Sucker!” as I rolled up my window and drove away. But all I heard was his quiet, “Thank you,” and this time I wasn’t ashamed.

 

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Last of his tribe

Things like this amaze and fascinate me. The fact that there are still uncontacted tribes in the jungles and forests of the world. That there are still indigenous peoples living among us, on a planet that we generally think of as fully civilized. How awesome is that?

The “Last of his Tribe”

I can’t even imagine this man’s life. A single, solitary soul in his native jungle land, the lone survivor of his entire people. Fending off cattle ranchers that would gladly hunt him down, trying to grow food for subsistence while having to harvest it undercover so as not to be poached like the rest of his tribe. Having no one with whom to communicate, as the people documenting and trying to preserve his existence have no idea whatsoever of the language he speaks. And not even knowing that some of those strangers following him through the land are really trying to protect him, not kill him.

Could I survive as he does? Probably not. How does he do it? How does he find the strength to keep on in the face of the constant reminder that everyone he has ever known and loved is gone and he will never again find anyone like him? I don’t know that I could. Or does he even know that? Does he know that there is no one else like him out there? Or are there really more and we are the clueless ones? Maybe he’s a lot more cunning than we assume.

I would love to catch even a tiny first-hand glimpse into worlds like these. Worlds so entirely different from the one I’ve always known. Worlds so unique and astonishing that we will never be able to fully appreciate them from the comfort of our 4-walled, heated and air conditioned, fully wireless living rooms. Worlds that might make us really appreciate all that we do have and admire and respect those that have none of it yet are equally happy and well-off if not more so than we are. Worlds that force us to realize we aren’t the only ones living here, so stop trashing the place.

There’s much to learn from the Last Man. I hope we can.

 

p.s. another one of our friends had her baby boy early this morning! congratulations T, with baby S!!!

 

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Appalling

Are you kidding me? This shit still happens? Am I just utterly naive to think racially motivated killings were a thing of the past, or are we experiencing a whole new and disturbing era of racial unrest? Last week we had the mobs of black teens and young adults beating white fair goers outside the WI State Fairgrounds, London has been enduring clashes between rioters and police in one of its predominantly Afro-Caribbean suburbs, and now this? It’s sickening, saddening, and worst of all, I don’t see how it’s going to be fixed. Racism is such a sensitive and heated issue, and unfortunately stories like this one prove that it apparently is still alive and festering.

Warning – this video contains some gruesome footage that might be disturbing to some.

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I want to go

On a trip around the world like this.

 

MOVE from Rick Mereki on Vimeo.

 

How awesome is that? One of my best friends and her husband took like 6 weeks and did an around-the-world trip a few years ago before they had kids, and I was insanely jealous. That is something I’ve always wanted to do. I’d still love to someday, but who knows when we’ll actually be able to now. I’m hopeful, though. I love to travel and see new places.

All 3 parts of that clip are really good – Move, Eat, and Learn. Damn, makes me look totally boring.
 

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Keep in mind

As a mom of a now 1 year old, my mind has started wandering into the upcoming years. Specifically, how in the hell do you entertain a toddler?? And how do you do so before reaching the demonic meltdown stage when they are displeased? Yeah, I am harboring no pretenses when it comes to the so-called terrible 2s, and what I’ve recently heard are even worse, the terrible 3s. D already does the throw-yourself-flat-down-on-the-floor-and-cry when she doesn’t get her way sometimes, and we’re a whole year out from 2. Awesome. Kids can be bitches, and I just want to be prepared so I don’t get any fingers bitten off along the way. Now hopefully D will surprise me and be a peach her whole life, but seriously? I’m not that naive.

One place that can get sticky with kids is car rides. And since we usually go to Canada each year and are in the car for a solid 12 hours, I’ll take any and all suggestions. This year ended up being a breeze with D, but she was still young enough to take lots of bottles of milk and easy finger foods like Cheerios and puffs. As she gets older, though, she won’t be so easily satisfied with such baby fare. So then what?

R sent me the following link that has some great ideas for just this scenario:

Car snacks

Now those I can handle. Easy, healthy, not too messy – jackpot.

Just thought I’d pass along a little nugget for all you parents-to-be out there. It’s never to early to start stocking your arsenal.

 

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The little things

Today I’m wearing a necklace that has been one of my favorites for about 10 years now. It’s nothing fancy, just a little silver necklace with some purple crystals every couple inches interspersed with pale lavender freshwater pearls. I wore it every day for the longest time after I got it, but it has since come to be worn mainly when it perfectly matches certain articles of clothing, like the lavender shirt I have on. Do you do that too? Match specific pieces of jewelry to corresponding outfits? It’s like I never think of some of my jewelry until I put on that one shirt or dress. Funny. Anyway.

The reason this necklace will always hold a spot dear in my heart is because it was the first gift R ever gave me. And I will never ever forget the moment either. It was my last minute in Madison before I had to drive home to Peoria and make the big move out to NYC in the summer of 2001. I think I moved out there July 1, so this would have been the last weekend in June when I left Madison. And it was the absolute last thing I wanted to do by then. For R and I had become so close (though we weren’t “dating”, mind you. that became official later), and I had some incredibly good friends who I couldn’t bear to leave. Fortunately they all came to visit me shortly after I moved out east, but still. The actual leaving process was horrible.

The whole day I was dragging my feet, putting off leaving as long as humanly possible. R had helped me load up the stuff I was taking in my car that hadn’t been shipped out on the moving truck, we grabbed some lunch at Qdoba on State Street, then we watched a movie over at their apartment on Dayton that afternoon. And believe me, those closing credits were the last thing I wanted to see. For they meant I had to go. So we were like ok, this is it. He ducked into his bedroom quickly as we were heading to the door, then walked me downstairs and across the street where I was parked. I gave him a big hug that I never wanted to end and said something dumb like, “Well, it’s been fun.” I honestly felt like I was never going to see anyone from Madison again, as crazy as that may sound. That’s when he reached in his pocket and handed me this little necklace.

I was absolutely floored. One, I was certainly not expecting a parting gift, but two, did this mean he actually had feelings for me beyond the “friends with benefits” thing? Holy shit! And now I’m literally getting in my car and moving 1,000 miles away?? Great timing. And I thought I didn’t want to leave earlier that day. Once he gave me that necklace I would have cemented my feet right there in the street in front of him if I could have. That was one long, lonely, confusing drive home.

Obviously he did have feelings for me, and I for him, which we finally admitted when we started officially dating a little over a month later. And whaddya know? We’ve been together ever since. Awww… sappy, I know. But sometimes it’s just the little things that really do mean the most. And every time I wear this necklace I’m taken right back to that day a decade ago when I first thought hmm, maybe this could actually turn into something more.

I love that the clasp is a heart