19 posts tagged “fauna”

Who do you tell your secrets to?

Or, if we're feeling grammatically correct, to whom do I tell my secrets? As much as I love you, dear Internet, not to you. But hey, I don't paint secrets on billboards (which are not nearly so easily searchable as content on the World Wide Web), either.

Luckily, there are lots of things I am happy to share, things that aren't quite secrets, but you still probably didn't know before. For example, last night I dreamed that someone was splashing though a pond turning neon tetras into turtles with a sort of magic crayon. This was after I dreamed that one of my cousins was acting as kind of a seeing eye person and helping a blind girl to ski, but although it was winter at the top of the slope, by the bottom it had become summer in all its muggy, mosquito-ridden glory. Would you believe that waking up puzzled is not entirely unusual for me?

I'm going to blame this set of crazy dreams on the action-packed couple of days M and I have had this week, owing to a visit from our twin nine-year-old nieces. Their Summer Vacation Ultra-Energy coupled with bonus Giggle Factor is as fun as it is exhausting. I'm still trying to process all our adventures: braving the chilly beach, amassing prize tickets at the arcade, playing a lot of Wii, marveling at butterflies at the botanical garden, paper footballing at various and sundry meals, chasing the cats around trying to put paper hats on their heads, chasing M around trying to put a paper hat on his head, peering into a battleship's nooks and crannies, running amok at a science museum...

I'm flat worn out! Somebody asked me at the CAP meeting last night if I was feeling all right (a question which always makes me wonder how much of a mess I look), but he understood immediately upon hearing that we'd just had a whirlwind visit from a set of nine-year-old girls.

It was a blast, though, and I can't wait to see 'em again.

It's Frog Jumping Jubilee Day. Yes, I'm as confused by that as you are. Nonetheless, show us a frog or toad to celebrate!

It's still better than renting. It's still better than renting. It's still better than renting. I believe this. Really. Really, I do. But damned if it wouldn't be nice to be able to just call maintenance to deal with certain kinds of problems.

While doing the breakfast dishes this morning, I happened to glance over into the sunroom for a quick kitty-whereabouts check. I saw out of the corner of my eye that they were sprawled in a sunbeam in the corner, looking as relaxed and entertained as can be, so I turned back to my dishes. Then something registered in my sleepy subconscious and I looked back.

The cats were thoroughly transfixed by a swarm of insects on the wall and in the window, with more little friends pouring in all the time. Uh, problemo. I grabbed the cats and threw them in their room before going to fetch my poor, unsuspecting husband. He was as thrilled as I was by the scene: one corner of our sunroom swarming with what looked like flying ants. Some dim recollection of mine spurred a distinct sinking sensation, which was confirmed by almighty Google.

Not flying ants, oh no. Swarming termites.

We called some pest control folks, who came out right away to check things out and tell us that, yep, we had termite swarmers. The winged buggers can't actually do any damage themselves, but they're an indication of a nearby colony well-established enough to be sending out some reproductive types to go form a new colony. How nice.

The men who came out gave us a quote for working their chemical magic, and we'll be contacting a few more places for estimates to compare. The good news is that they didn't find any damage, but boy, what a pain in the butt. I guess we know where a good chunk of our tax refund is going this year.

It's still better than renting. It's still better than renting. It's still better than renting...

This is one of those perfect moments: I am sitting in the sunroom with my husband on a Thursday afternoon. The startlingly bright January sunlight is filtering in through the shades, and the giant bush outside two of the windows is casting leafy shadows. We saw a chickadee in its branches not half an hour ago; our cats were equally interested in the little bird, but for much more sinister reasons. M is absorbed in a book devoted to his favorite car, and I'm whiling away my time on the Internet. All is peaceful.

Well, at least until Vera and Val decide it's time to tear around the house like demons again. Maybe another chickadee will come by and distract them for just a while longer.

Mother Nature has decided to do my Halloween decorating for me in the form of a spectacularly large spider right outside my front window.

There is a gigantic gardenia bush outside my sunroom window, and I just had the distinct pleasure of glancing outside to see a sparrow hopping self-importantly from twig to twig while chirping his heart out. I think he would have been gone by the time I could fetch the camera, but I wish I had a picture of the little fellow about his Serious Business. This is rapidly becoming my favorite room now that we have something to sit on, thanks to my parents and their extremely generous gift of a comfy patio set when they were down here visiting a couple weekends ago. Thanks again, Mom and Dad!

Are you planning on doing any spring cleaning this year? If so, please share a cleaning tip you swear by.

Cleaning up is for sissies, so we're just going to move. I mean, we've lived here for almost three months, and that is just way too long to be rooted to one spot. Finally having the area figured out and the house semi-organized is such a drag.

If you are especially perceptive, you may have sensed the barest tinge of sarcasm above. As much of a PITA as a PCS move is, though, we are looking forward to heading back East sometime in the next month or so. Could be as soon as a few weeks, but the Navy will take its sweet time in telling us, as ever. I just got back home from a lovely and productive trip out to where we'll be stationed to start getting the lay of the land and do some house-hunting. I couldn't have done it without my mom, who offered her experience and input throughout what is, to me, the highly mysterious process of looking at houses and neighborhoods. She also served as moral support when we thought we were going to die of the real estate agent's terrifying driving practices. Oh, and she was witness to the car that pulled up next to us with a dead deer head, antlers and all, in the passenger seat. Redneck Godfather for the win.

Anyway, I'm back home now, with all my luggage. That wasn't a sure thing right at first, since my suitcase was apparently put on a different flight than the one I was on. M and I stuck (grumpily) around the the airport until the flight with my suitcase arrived, but that was way better than filing a claim and hoping it would get delivered as promised. If I'd known we'd end up waiting around for the later flight anyway, I would have just taken that one to begin with and not run myself ragged trying to make the tighter connection in Houston. IAH may be the most obnoxious airport I've ever had the displeasure to try to navigate. Oh well.

Just a moment ago, I went downstairs, flipped on the light, and saw a fairly large spider in the entryway. This is not an unusual occurrence around here, so I had a plastic cup and a piece of cardstock handy for the humane capture and removal of any insects or arachnids that make their way inside. (If that sounds too warm and fuzzy for you, it's more because the big ones make a mess when you squish them than any admirable feelings on my part.) In any case, I do feel the tiniest bit virtuous about freeing the invaders outside, not to mention a hint of satisfaction that I am not being a stereotypical girl and freaking out about a big spider.

So, I scooped him up, opened the front door, and let him scurry off as fast as his eight legs could carry him. As I did so, I had a moment to notice that there was a toad sitting right on my doorstep. He must have noticed me, too, because he freaked out, leaped sideways, and managed to squeeze himself through the crack in the hinge side of the doorway. Awesome: I just traded a relatively docile spider for a panicky toad.

My first instinct was to put the plastic cup over him, which resulted in an even more upset amphibian and a plastic cup bounding around my living room. Removal of said cup gave him even more freedom of movement, of which he took advantage to try and smash headfirst into my entertainment center. I finally got my lightning-quick toad-wrangling act together and grabbed him as gently as I could...

..and the sucker PEED on me as I set him back outside. Ungrateful beast! My lizard buddies are much more polite when they come calling.

Having been preoccupied with everything else going on since I got back from visiting my family in Virginia (never mind that it's been nearly a month), I'm only now getting around to sharing a few pictures from the Old Dominion. Well, that's not quite true--you've seen part of one shot of some orange leaves in my fall banner picture. Getting back to the East Coast did not yield quite the crisp, cool autumn days I had been hoping for after enduring a South Texas summer (even today, approaching the end of November, it got up to at least 87º F), but I did manage to capture a little color and enjoy a few seasonable days.

Great Falls has been a special place for me ever since I was a child, so I was happy to be able to go with my mom last month. Seeing how low the Potomac was really brought home how little rain the area had received all summer, in marked contrast to the torrents we got in Texas. As usual, I took some pictures of the famous falls, this time marveling at how much rock was exposed. Compare the picture on the left, taken in March of 2003, with the one on the right, which I took just last month. Hardly any of the rocks were visible that day in 2003, with the Potomac as swollen on snow melt as it was.

Our view of the falls yielded one capture I'm rather pleased with just for the juxtaposition of helicopter and hawk. Don't worry, they're not as close as they appear in the picture; being married to a pilot, I'm properly leery of anything involving the proximity of birds and aircraft.

After our obligatory time at the Falls Overlooks, we took a hike up the trail along the old canal. Even just a little bit upstream, the river looks completely different, never giving the slightest hint that there is a "treacherous waterfall downstream." Talk about a surprise for any unwary boaters! There are sobering statistics on signage throughout the park about how many people drown every year because they fail to respect the true power of that much rushing water. The undertow is not something to be trifled with, and even wading where the current looks slow and gentle could easily result in a loss of footing and a quick trip to the bottom. I always preferred to look at the water from the safety of the overlooks or the higher rocks, myself.

Poking through all that scenic autumn beauty is hungry work, so it was fortuitous that my dad brought home an exceedingly well-used cast iron skillet from work. He eagerly scrubbed and reseasoned it, restoring it to the perfect slick blackness, then put it to work making the yummiest, juiciest herbed chicken quarters I have ever tasted. It was pleasant enough outside to do the cooking right on the grill, so he first got the pan smoking hot, then browned the meat on all sides. After getting that beautiful color on the skin, we added plenty of chicken stock, onions and fresh herbs snipped right from the pots on the deck. I was so inspired that after getting back to Texas, M and I ran out to buy our own gigantic cast iron skillet. We've already used it to great effect for our own chicken meals, as well as an extremely hearty corned beef hash yesterday morning.

In addition to getting to visit with lots of family members I hadn't seen since the wedding and hanging out with some dear friends from high school and college (including getting to meet my college friend's five-week-old twins!), I was honored to meet a most exalted personage. The lithe and affectionate Miss Kitty-Patches, as my parents have dubbed the cat who visits them in exchange for a little tuna or--wonder of wonders--a small serving of chicken, came out and introduced herself to me one afternoon. Getting to spend time with a cat again further reinforced my desire to adopt one of my own once we're at the next duty station. Eeekitties.

Show us your hands.

Now with extra bonus lizard!