Our first living pet joined our household last month. This is huge, breaking news, as Meg and I very publicly loathe the idea of sheltering animals inside our living space (raising chickens in a coop outside? maybe some day). One perk of having kids who are mildly allergic to pet dander is that we have a legitimate excuse for rejecting the kids occasional plea for adopting a pet. Somehow this one slipped through the cracks. May I introduce Shelly, a 15-year old western box turtle. She lived with another family in Westmoreland who, ironically, became too busy with their young children to take care of her anymore. Meg found a listing for Shelly on craigslist while looking for someone who might have lost a cat, as one had recently showed up on our porch and refused to leave. I figured it was a stray, as it had no identification, but Meg insisted it belonged to someone. Meg doesn't like it when I tell this story, but just before bringing Shelly home, Edward picked up the mystery cat, disappeared, and returned maybe 15 minutes later. And that's the last we saw of that cat (that's how I wish the story ended, but it did come back a few weeks later, but our second shooing-away apparently worked)--it felt like a scene from a Haruki Murakami novel (where cats, especially disappearing ones, are frequently major plot elements).
Shelly seems to be pretty resilient to the kids' not-so-gentle and generally irresponsible habits and is still alive a month later. She lives in a large, plastic storage box in Aaron's room. The boys are supposed to take her outside every day, where she loves to crawl around and hide in the bushes throughout our garden. I haven't figured out what exactly she likes to eat, but I do know she loves earthworms and will eat sow bugs. Western box turtles can supposedly live about 50 years in captivity, so Shelly might out-stay even Edward (who has in the past claimed he's never moving out--he has lately softened this assessment though).
Aging is a gradual process, so why should I worry when the clock officially tacks on another number to my age? Perhaps I should have realized that, as my peers began turning 40, and I would post half-serious questions about their experience, that I had my own issues brewing steadily in the background. I don't think I've had a birthday party since I was six, but Meg insisted on having one for me--something about 40 being a milestone or something, despite my arguments that I had done nothing significant to warrant anything--I had simply aged another year. But I conceded the point. I offered up the idea of a roller skating party--which is probably what my last party was; see, I haven't changed a bit--but I think she laughed that one out of the rink pretty quickly. I get daily emails from Groupon and LivingSocial, and they had something for a karaoke box rental. My half-Japanese side recognized something that could be fun and probably aligned with my personality. I told Meg...
Mt. St. Helens was beckoning us the whole trip I had planned on taking a vacation day the day before Meg and I were to begin our celebration of 15 years married to each other, but Meg suggested just working through the day as she had class all morning and her job to attend to in the afternoon, and then taking the next Friday off and take the kids to the pool or something. The pool? Nah, I wanted to do something memorable, something they would remember for years to come. While that may seem like a tall order for my boring-routine lifestyle, I think I may have actually pulled it off. Back to that conversation with Meg about going to the pool, I voiced my interest to go to Mt. St. Helens and camp and go on all-day hikes. Wow, that actually sounds really good; I better figure out how to make it happen. I searched semi-casually for a camping spot to reserve, but there was nothing, which wasn't surprising given the nature of the request. There were walk-in spots available, but ther...
My buddy and me Being that this was the last full lunar eclipse before the world ends, I wanted to capture the moment for the invading aliens' sake. I left the house just before 6:00 a.m., when the totality of the eclipse began. My premeditated destination was the SE side of the waterfront near downtown, although I had read that the moon might only be visible from a lofty height, as it would be very low on the horizon. As I rode my bike into town, I thought I could see a large and ominous orange glow emanating from the Northwest, but that tease would be all that my eyes would taste of the lunar eclipse. When I reached my destination, I knew I wouldn't have the chance to photograph the moon (although I have had luck with it before ), so I enjoyed the quiet morning (though there were several photographers hanging around the riverfront) and practiced making long exposures with what little morning light had filtered through the fog. I suppose I could have ridden for Coun...
Comments
Post a Comment