Fat, Pre-Diabetic, Hypertensive Chipmunks

Since we put out our bird feeder this summer we've gathered quite an array of wildlife. We've had visits from birds of all sorts, squirrels, chipmunks, rabbits and groundhogs. They love the free seeds!

We've also had visits from neighborhood cats and hawks. They love the free snacks too. (Chipmunks have a very loud squeak!)

Besides just being entertained by their antics, there are other benefits as well. Thanks to the squirrels I have a nice garden of sun flowers growing in my pots from all the buried sunflower seeds. Occasionally I'll see a squirrel digging at the roots of a sunflower plant, no doubt looking for the seed he knows he buried there! We also have quite a few interesting plants - probably millet and goodness only knows what else.

I've also discovered that this may be a good way to clean out the pantry without feeling guilty about throwing away the stuff we haven't eaten before it was too old and stale to be any good. The other day I found some of those bright orange peanut butter cracker sandwiches. The ducklings were fond of them for a short period of time, but now no one will touch them. And these were pretty old besides - past their 'best by' date. So I thought I'd try them out on the wildlife. Animals always like peanut butter and they don't care if it's a little old.

I've seen the squirrels nibbling at them. They pick one up in their little paws, turn it this way and that, sniff it, nibble the edges, turn it, sniff it, nibble the edges, then drop it and pick up another one - hoping that one will taste better. (the taste of store bought snacks rarely live up to their smell).

I just know what's going to happen. We're going to end up with a backyard full of fat, lethargic, pre-diabetic, hypertensive rodents. Not that there's anything inherently wrong with bright orange peanut butter crackers, but it's probably  not a healthy choice for a chipmunk (or arguably, a person). It's definitely not something their little bodies are used to. I mean, how often do they come across wild peanut butter crackers? With food coloring, salt, sugar, preservatives and other unmentionable chemicals? Not too often I think.

Now I'm torn between
1) Only feeding them healthy, natural nuts and seeds
2) Cleaning out the pantry and feeding them all sorts of garbage - saving money on seeds, but fattening them up like tiny little Paula Deans.

So hard to decide!

Quack!

Embellishments, DooDads, Whosiwhatsits, Thingamabobs, Dodingers and Flappabitties

About 5 years ago we (the Ginormous Duck family) visited Walt Disney World. We had a great time! (And by that I mean I've forgotten the whining, crying and grumpy moments and only remember the glowing, warm-fuzzy, sunny, fun bits.) And now we're going to be going again. Probably the last time we'll go as a family, mainly due to the cost. But after saving up for 5 years we managed to scrape up enough for another visit and are really looking forward to it.

And, just the other day I finished up my scrapbook from our last trip there. Yes, it took me five years to do it. (hanging my duck-bill in shame). Now, it's not like it took me 5 YEARS! to complete it. There were several very long breaks in there! But the overall time span was 5 years. And if we hadn't planned this latest trip glob only knows how long it would have taken.

Tangent here, the ducklings have been watching an uber-cool (I know, the word-uber cool is so NOT uber-cool, as Sweet Pea reminds me very often) TV show lately called Adventure Time. I really enjoy it. Did you notice I said 'glob only knows' above? The lovely LSP, or Lumpy Space Princess, often says "Oh my glob!" I like it and plan to use it often. Get used to it.

But back to the main topic. Yes, it took me 5 years, but now it's done. Thank glob! Finally! And I still have a little time to get prepared for the next batch of memories, and by that I mean, the next batch of papers, pages, embellishments, doo dads, whosiwhatsits, thingamabobs, dodingers and flappabitties. Maybe this time I'll be a little more efficient.

Or maybe not.

Quack!

Who Got The Better End of This Deal?

The other morning after my shower I reached over to the tissue box and innocently pulled out a tissue. Sounds like a nice simple everyday task, doesn't it?

Well, from said tissue dropped a critter with many legs. I swore. He stared up at me from the sink, all 8 legs poised for action and all 8 eyes trained on me. I was thinking fast and covered him with an overturned cup, then turned and ran.

The hubster, hearing my swearing, got out of bed. (He's awesome like that. Some people, upon hearing their wife swear, would feign sleep, or run screaming from the room. But not the hubby - he comes to my rescue even if may mean that he ends up being the one who needs rescuing).

But anyway, I left. I politely asked him to dispose of the many legged critter in the sink. I would  much rather deal with attempting to raise my almost-teen daughter from bed to get ready for school.

Wait a minute! Who got the better end of this deal anyway?

Quack!

Fairly Mellilow

  So I'm taking a training class for work and the break room is right across the hall from the classroom. Are you with me so far?

Now, said break room has the usual coffee and unhealthy snacks. It also has a CD player and a stack of CDs. Each day it plays some innocuously mellow music. Some days that music is better than others. The other day was Etta James - that was nice. More recently it was some way-too-mellow jazzy stuff that insinuated its way into my brain crenelations like worms in rotting meat. It was very difficult to pull it out and boy did that feel gross!

But I discovered there is a step beyond way-too-mellow jazzy stuff burrowing into my brain crevasses. Behold the horror of the day prior:

It didn't start out too badly. Even I can stand very small doses of fairly mellow Barry Manilow (or Mary Banilow as I prefer to call him). But after listening to a rousing rendition of Oh Mandy, followed by the upbeat and uber-lovely - I Write the Songs and the soothing and romantic - Looks Like We Made it, it started in on Copacabana. At that point it was far far far into the 'way-too-much-mary-banilow' category. And when I found my leg starting to bounce and my body starting to sway in time to the music I decided it was just over the top too  much! It was bad enough I was being subjected to endless Barry Manilow, but another thing altogether to have my body betray me and start moving in time with the music! Traitorous!

So, I went over to the break room . . .

and . . .

I . . .



turned that CD down!


Oh, I'm sorry. Were you expecting something more. Something involving shattered CD players and CDs spinning across the break room? Some cursing of the Mary Banilow name? Sorry to disappoint you. All I did was turn it town. Not off, just down. But boy did I turn that thing down! Way down! Now-no-one-can-hear-it down. Ha ha ha ha!

And before this class is over I'm bringing in some Five Finger Death Punch or maybe All That Remains. And I'll put that in the CD player. And I'll turn it up. Way up. Muah ha ha ha ha ha.

Quack!

Somber Piguin

  A few months ago one of our two guinea pigs passed to the great clover field in the sky. That left us with one little piggy. We don't want to get her a companion for a couple of reasons:

• Despite her cuteness and sweetness, cleaning the cage is a pain in the ass! Guinea pigs are foul little critters who poop and pee endlessly! I'd like to NOT have that cage to clean someday.
• She never seemed to appreciate her companion anyway. She seemed to be more of an annoyance than anything else  - just someone trying to hog all the hay - and I don't think any other companion would be more welcome.

The remaining piggy is a fat little thing - little rolls around her middle and several chins - many more than the one who died. But since she's been alone she has slimmed down considerably. I think now that the competition is gone she's lost the urge to eat everything in sight before the other pig can even look at it. She's still plenty healthy, just slimmer.

And, in addition to losing excess weight, she's also lost a bit of hair. I understand that it's not that uncommon with guinea pigs. I'm giving her some extra vitamin C to see if that helps. But in the meantime, we have this funny little chubby piggy with a hairless belly and balding spots on her sides. It feels very strange. I can only imagine how it feels to her when I pick her up with my ice cold hands. Yikes!

She reminds me of one of those weird hairless cats! I sometimes call her 'Somber Piggy', named after a cat, 'Somber Kitty' that we came across in the book 'May Bird and the Everafter' and its sequels. We really enjoyed those books and that name is awesome. So, our poor little lonely balding piggy not only has to put up with the indignity of losing her belly fur, but also has to put up with a strange and somewhat ridiculous nickname of 'Somber Piggy'. But really, is it any worse than her other nickname, Piguin?

Quack!

Feed Me Or I'll Eat Your Face (Adventures in Catversation)

  For some reason the cat will often have conversations with me. It's very cute! Well, recently we had a conversation like this:

Cat: Meow
Me: What are you doing kitty?
Cat: Meeurgh
Me: You're so cute. Are you talking to me?
Cat: Merrrow
Me: Come over here and sit with me.
Cat: Mrrrr
Me: Come on sweetie. Sit with Mommy.
Cat: Meeeeooww
Me: Do you want to play?
Cat: Mrrow
Me: Peek-a-boo!

She then pounced, jumping to the back of the couch where I was sitting, looked at me, then left.

And I thought that was all there was to it. Silly me. This is what was actually going on:

Cat: I'm hungry.
Me: What are you doing kitty?
Cat: Starving. Can you fill my bowl?
Me: You're so cute. Are you talking to me?
Cat: Yes I'm talking to you woman! I need some food here!
Me: Come over here and sit with me.
Cat: Sit with you? I don't have time for that! I'm wasting away here. Let's go!
Me: Come on sweetie. Sit with Mommy.
Cat: Shut up already with the sitting! Get me some chow!!
Me: Do you want to play?
Cat: No! I don't want to play. I want to eat! Eat!
Me: Peek-a-boo!
Cat: Idiot! [pounces] I should eat your face! [turns and leaves] I'm out of here dumb ass!

We discovered the truth of the conversation as soon the hubby glanced down the stairs to see her empty bowl glaring at him accusingly, light glinting off the cold, licked-clean metal and piercing his eye.

I apologized to her and filled her bowl. I'll have to make sure I listen the next time. She's smarter that I give her credit for.

(I'm very glad I can't hear what those meows actually mean. I suspect they are very close to what my imagination tells me.)

Quack!

The Nose Flaps Are a' Flappin'

I have an electric toothbrush. It's so much fun! I got it several months ago after a suggestion from my dentist. When I use it I come away feeling so freshly scrubbed and sparkly clean.

tink! (that's the white sparkly highlight as I smile).

The only problem I have with it is that it makes my nose itch. I think it may have something to do with the size of my nose. A normal or small nose just ignores the vibration of the bristles. But when your nose is slightly larger than normal - you know, large enough to act as an umbrella for your feet - that changes the dynamic somewhat. Instead of a pleasant little vibration of the lips and gums from the rattling brush, it sends my nose flaps, my nose bristles and the very tip of my nose waggling like the tail of an excited puppy! And all that movement makes my nose itch! I can't get through a standard 2 minute brushing without stopping to rub at my nose a couple of times. It's very distracting!

But overall, it's a worthwhile investment. I've never felt so sparkly clean! I only hope all that vibration doesn't stretch out my nose parts and leave me with a nose like an old woman's drooping bosom, dangling down my face like a melting candle.

Quack!

Yorked Up Schmootz

  I often frequent the library. It's a great place to get some books, books on CD or music without having to shell out the money. If I really like it a lot, I'll buy my own copy down the road. Well, I know some people are squeamish about getting things from the library because you never know what they've done with them. I mean, really. What is that brown smudge on page 12? And what caused all the moisture damage to chapter 16? And, is that a hair in between pages 42 and 43? I try not to think about it and rarely have I come across anything disgusting.

You can see where this is going, can't you?

Well, I got out a book on CD. And you would think that the worst you could do to a CD was scratch it up so it didn't work right. I've had that happen before and have missed small chunks of a story. But in this case, it wasn't scratched up. It was rather as if someone had yorked up in the box. Every CD was filmy and covered in some sort of schmootz. Now, I exaggerate - it wasn't lumpy, orange, half chewed schmootz. It was more like it had been dropped into a dirty puddle, but in any case, before using any CD, it had to be wiped clean. I shy away from actually thinking about what happened to these CDs. I'm happier in my ignorance. But if I wanted to speculate:

Barf or other bodily fluids?
A short trip into the toilet?
A swim in a swampy mud puddle?
A set of teething rings, perhaps?
A toddler's place mat?

Needless to say, I tired of cleaning each CD and the story wasn't that entertaining so I returned it unfinished. But I must say, although the story wasn't that exciting or entertaining, the speculation about what happened to it certainly was.

Quack!

The Importance of Good Dental Hygiene

The other day I almost got bit by a teeny tiny vampire! No, not a mosquito. It was an actual, honest-to-goodness miniature vampire!

What do I mean almost? And how do I know this?

Well, I didn't actually see the vampire - they are very sneaky that way. But I had this pair of bruises on my knee - two tiny little bruises about 5 millimeters apart. That little vampire was so tiny and its teeth so weak that it didn't have the strength to break the skin and left only those bruises. Thank goodness! Imagine what would have happened if that vampire practiced good dental hygiene! It would have broken the skin and where would I be now? In mortal peril I'm sure.

So boys and girls, make sure you brush regularly.

And try not to feel sympathy for the poor starving vampire.

Quack!

Step Away From the Strelephant!

You know how when you don't quite catch the words to a song you tend to make up your own words so you can sing along? I think we all do that.

But to change the subject, years ago I got some swag from a vendor at work. They sent me a gift so I would never forget them. It's an elephant. Get it? Elephants never forget, and all that. Well, this was a nice little squishy elephant that I could squeeze when I was stressed out. It had the company logo on the side and best of all it came in a tube. Now, on the outside it looked like a plain black cylindrical tube about 4 inches or so diameter. Nothing extraordinary. But . . . when this mundane, every-day tube was opened, letting the daylight shine into the darkened interior, the loud trumpeting of an elephant racing across the plains of Africa would ring out, startling even the most stoic of office workers. It was great!

I of course took it home to amaze and amuse the children. It worked wonderfully once they got over their fear that a raging beast would tear out of the tube and stampede them into the rug.

We had that thing for years until recently the battery died. I could probably have figured out how to change it, but that was too much work so we said our goodbyes and waved as the garbage truck carried the tube off down the street.

But, even though the tube moved onto greener pastures, the stess elephant stays with us. It's been adopted by the ducklings and has taken on the moniker 'Strelephant'. (Stress + Elephant = Strelephant) We are all very fond of Strelephant.

Now, to circle back, you know that song by Five Finger Death Punch about the elephant? You know, it goes like this:

Step away from the elephant,
I'm coming down.

What do you mean it's not 'elephant', but 'edge'? That can't be?!?

OK, I knew the right words, but I caught one of the ducklings singing 'Step away from the elephant . . .' the other day and it stuck. We started to sing it that way. And even better, we've upgraded it to 'Step away from the Strelephant". So now that song will never be quite the same. Whenever I hear it on the radio I have to pause and think, 'wait a minute, he just sang the wrong words. Oh, wait.'

Oh Strelephant, we love you so!

Quack!