5.30.2008

All I Want is Food and Creative Love

If you can correctly identify (WITHOUT googling) the band who sings the song referenced in this title, I will send you one of Scooby's whiskers.

Memorial Day was a dream. I never get to spend a full day with Adam anymore. I worked Sunday night, so when I got home Monday morning, I just wanted to go to bed. But I suppressed that and instead, we went for a hike with the dogs and then to the reservoir, where we proceeded to take an extremely satisfying collective family nap underneath this amazing shade tree.

On our way to the lake, we stopped off at the Piggly Wiggly (this place really does exist!) to get some stuff for lunch. I was in charge of this mission, and I have to consider it a failure. I got a loaf of bread, some chicken salad, a bag of chips, and a gallon of iced tea. It all seemed like a safe bet. Well, the dogs ended up with the chicken salad and Adam had a chip sandwich for lunch. Hmmm. Must improve my picnicking skills.

5.26.2008

Conversations I overheard last night and desperately tried not to participate in but ultimately failed

Highlights:

Snippet #1:
Person 1: "Do you really think Obama is the anti-Christ?"
Person 2: "No, the anti-Christ will be from Israel."
Person 1: "Oh."

Snippet #2:
Person 1: "Do you KNOW what Obama's middle name is?"
Me: "Hussein."
Person 1 (bug-eyed): "Yeah, I mean..."
Me: "What?"
Person 1: "I can't believe anyone in this country would vote for a Muslim."
Me: "Um, Obama is not a Muslim. He is a Christian."
Person 1: "Well, he was raised Muslim."
Me: "No he wasn't."
Then me, walking away.

Snippet #3:
Person 1: "I just wish they would re-write the law so that George Bush could serve a 3rd term. I think he's done a pretty good job and would be better than anyone running."
Me: "I can't remember the last time I've disagreed with something more."
Person 1: "I'm just playin'"
Person 2: "I really like the guy."
Then me, walking away.

Good times!!

The glamours of nursing

I had the privilege of attending not one, not two, not three, but FOUR Code Browns last night. Let me tell you, this is no easy thing for my mightily weakened gag reflex to endure. Luckily, it is extremely rare for me to have to clean up poo, so I don't mind the odd time or two. Last night was an anomoly. This is good preparation for motherhood. And don't you agree that baby poo is infinitely more palatable than big people poo?

And now, since I'm just feeling gross this morning, please behold: The Incredible Edible Anus. I really hope I can remember that these things exist the next time I'm in the market for a hilarious and inappropriate gift.

5.08.2008

The cruelty of nature and pregnancy hormones

Yesterday after a lovely, carefree afternoon of frolicking at the beach with my niece and nephew, house hunting, and a date at the donut shop with Adam, I came home to find a grim scene: a helpless baby bird in my driveway. It was heartbreaking. He was totally crying out for help from his tiny little adorable yellow beak and kinda flopping around in one place. My best guess is that he fell out of the nest somehow and broke a leg.

I always feel like I should DO something in these situations, but I had no idea what. I thought about taking a picture and then immediately realized that this was a really bizarre impulse and what on earth would I do with a photo of this nature. After calling Adam and Joey for advice, they both told me to leave it alone and go about my business and hope that the mother would find it. So I took the dogs to the beach for a diversion. Only, the beach down from our house was nearly apocalyptic last night, strange fish carcasses on the shore and weird items of clothing strewn about. This didn't exactly relax my state of mind.

So I returned home to assess the situation. Baby bird still there. This time on his back and clearly in a bad way. I just came inside and tried to ignore it. Around 10:30 I was emailing Adam who was still at work, and he asked for an update. I said I didn't know, and he was horrified that I hadn't killed the thing yet and put it out of its misery. Well now I felt truly terrible. I went back outside to see if it was still alive. I shone a flashlight on it to find his little birdie stomach was barely rising and falling. Now I really lost it. I called Adam sobbing hysterically and could barely tell him that it was still alive and suffering. He said he was on his way home to take care of it. What a man. I couldn't have loved him more at that moment.

After hanging up with him, I felt really ridiculous that I couldn't just deal with this. So I got in the car and attempted to run over it, twice, and failed both times. And I just couldn't try a third time. I just couldn't do it. So I waited for Adam to come home and when he did, I had to direct him in the car, pointing him to the right a bit so the wheel was perfectly positioned to crush the baby bird. Which it did. And I heard it. And it was terrible terrible terrible.

Adam assured me this morning that the birdie is chirping away in birdie heaven right now. Moral of this story: when choosing a mate, don't worry about things like, does he/she bring you flowers and presents. Just be sure they are going to sympathize when you are weeping inexplicably over a fallen bird and drop whatever they are doing to come home so you don't have to be the one to kill it.

5.02.2008

Accomplishment

While I consider myself a strong female, capable of doing pretty much anything a man can do, I have to admit that since I've been with Adam, I have gladly let him take over the more typically masculine duties of day-to-day living, like changing the oil and killing bugs and lifting heavy things. So it was a little out of the ordinary for me to mow the lawn today, but I did it and it was extremely gratifying. I should probably do this kind of thing more often, as I'm feeling a little too proud of myself right now.

5.01.2008

My skipper

Last weekend my Aunt Lois and Uncle Eddie invited Adam to be their crew in a sailboat race in Ft. Walton Beach, Florida. It all worked out so that we both could go, and it was such a nice little getaway for a weekend. I mostly relaxed on the beach while they were racing, but I did get a few rides on the sailboat, which was lovely and peaceful. Oh and I had totally forgotten how beautiful the beaches in Florida are. I guess anything looks good compared to Gulfport, but seriously, that water was perfect.

Sailing culture is funny. The Ft. Walton Yacht Club, who hosted the race, was charmingly blue-collar in appearance and attitude. Yet the place was full of 45-year olds who had already retired with millions in the bank. Lots of jokes about interest rates and third/fourth homes and such. A strange world that I know nothing about, but full of extremely gracious folks who couldn't have been nicer. And big huge thanks to my aunt and uncle for what was essentially a free beach vacation with a weekend's worth of very valuable sailing lessons for my husband.

Here are a few pictures from the weekend: