Hard to Find the Right Word

As I have mentioned before, The Kid is a pretty happy toddler. It seems like she's always in a good mood.

So, what happens when you give a first ice cream sandwich to someone who is already very happy?

They cross over into emotional territory that is beyond just bliss or joy.



Click the picture to embiggin and appreciate the mess we had afterwards. This photo was taken when she was about half-way through the sandwich.

With video goodness to boot:



Note the lizard-like tongue action.

Puzzler

I wanted to bring up something that has been troubling me for some time. I fear that I am spending far too much time pondering it, and doubt I will ever find a satisfactory solution. I may very well spend the rest of my days lacking a clear resolution. Here goes...

How exactly does one throw out a trash can?

Seriously. Think about it.

I'm not talking about a kitchen or household trash can, but one of the large take-to-the-curb ones.

Let's turn a critical eye to our options.

1) Take the Can to the Curb
I suppose this might work, but more likely than not, the garbage man (er, I mean waste disposal technician) will simply figure you are a moron for taking an empty trash can to the street.

2) Add a Sign to the Can
Let's imagine that you place a sign on the can that says "this can is trash". What exactly do you mean? The can itself is trash, or the items contained within it are trash? Maybe you have multiple cans, each labeled "this can is trash", "this can is recycling", or "this can is lawn debris". Once again, the collecting of the can itself as trash is placed into doubt by the ambiguity of the sign. A sign that clearly states what you intend would have to be something like: "This can is trash. And by that I mean the can itself (not the contents) is trash and should be collected." Methinks a sign that long won't be read. Again, you'll be thought a moron.

3) Cut the Can up into Little Pieces
Curb-side trash cans are designed to be durable and resist breakage. Even with my sawzall, it would take considerable effort to render a can into small enough pieces to put them into another can. Sounds a little too much like work o me.

4) Put it into a Bigger Can
While this is the primary method of disposing of lesser containers, it only works a few times before you end up with a trash can the size of the Space Shuttle External Tank. Not practical at all.

5) Take it to The Dump
Like I'm going to put a nasty trash can in my car and take a day off from work so I can go to the dump during their convenient weekday working hour.

6) Move and Leave the Old Can Behind
While expensive, it certainly has it benefits. Let somebody else deal with it, along with that leak in the basement. You just have to make sure that the movers don't pack it and take it to the new place.

As you can probably see, this is a problem that has vexed me for some time now. Our current trash can is starting to show its age, but The Wife has yet to recognize the dilemma in which we shall shortly find ourselves.

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: III

On the Seeing of Actual Animals

We took The Kid to the zoo for the first time a few weekends ago. And a good time was had by all. It was decided that the Richmond Zoo would be just the thing, what with the Grandparents living not so far away from there. And the weather was nice too. The mid-80s at noon in Richmond in August is just about unheard of. But we weren't complaining.

What did we see? There were small monkeys (or "gunkeys" as The Kid calls them).




There were big monkeys*.


there were chickens



Chickens which needed to be chased, no less.


We also saw gators, tigers, camels, bears, zebras, and assorted other creatures. All behind fences that seemed to be exactly at the Kid's eye level. Not that she wasn't able to adapt.








But best of all, The Kid got to see her grandparents.

* OK, so orangutans aren't technically monkeys. They're great apes, but until I can get The Kid to day "hominidae", they'll be monkeys.

Something old, Something not old

In the film "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", there is a scene where King Arthur happens across a 37 year-old peasant working in the fields. The king mistakes him for an old woman.

"I'm 37. I'm not old." protests the peasant.

So I guess 38 is old?

That sucks, but at least I don't look like a woman.

On a happier note, here's my friend who just happens to be turning 3 on the very same day I turn 38.

How cool is that?

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: II

Part II: On the Consuming of Bugs

A few evenings ago, around twilight, we noticed some strange looking birds flitting around our back yard. Upon closer inspection, we realized that they're not birds at all. They were beautiful, swooping, feeding bats.

I like bats. Not enough to keep them as pets (ewwwww), but I appreciate what the can do for me. Anything that can eat its weight in mosquitoes every night is A-OK in my book. These winged mammalian hunters of the night, using an internal echolocation system that could put some of the most sophisticated military target tracking radars to shame. At once simple and complex, they are magnificent denizens of the night sky.

I immediately began to ponder ways to encourage these nocturnal visitors. I plan on some bat boxes, but need to figure out what kinds of bats they are. I also want to try and attract more food for them, but that would mean deliberately encouraging mosquitoes to come into my yard. Not a thrilling prospect.

Anyone got any ideas?


PS: I'm fully aware that bats are natural vectors for any number of zoonotic pathogens. Nasty ones too. I don't want to pet them, just encourage them to eat as many mosquitoes as they can.

Wild Kingdom - A Musing in 3 Parts: 1

Lots of animal activity of late around here. Not really sure what that's all about.

Part I: Wherein the Cat Earns Her Keep.

Last Friday, I left for work as usual, with my lovely wife still abed and enjoying her last few moments of shut-eye before greeting the day.

At about 6:15, she heard the Cat making unusual mewing and chirping noises. This usually means that she's not feeling well (about to hork up a hairball), or she's got something cornered. The noise subsided after a few minutes, and my wife went back to sleep.

A few minutes after that, the Cat (as is her wont) jumped up onto the bed. Normally, she finds a nice spot on which to curl up for an early morning nap, but on this day she made straight for the Wife's head. She usually does this when she's hungry and either wants you to wake up and feed her, or at least get up and watch her eat. She's a strange cat, that way.

But not today. With the Cat's face a mere inches from my hers, my Lovely Bride slowly opened her tired eyes to find our Cat staring back at her. With a (mostly) uninjured mouse in it's mouth. Apparently this is not my wife's preferred way to wake up.

Of course, when I heard this story, I immediately asked if the Cat was sufficiently praised for her work, and was told that yes, praise was lavished upon the Cat, along with some pleadings that should a rodent be captured in the future please wait until a decent hour before announcing it and for heaven's sake don't bring it into the bed.

With a shoe box in hand, the Wife dutifully collected the (mostly) uninjured mouse and deposited him (or her) back into the wild from whence it came. Seeing as it's the second time the little fella has made it into the house and been captured, I'm sure we'll see it again.

Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday AM!

I was looking for a photo of my sister to post, and realized that I don't have a recent photo of her in digital format. I do have one from a few years ago. It's a bit out of focus, but aren't we all sometimes?

In any case, here's to you.

She's got three terrific kids, a great husband, and couldn't be a better sibling. You never cease to inpsire us. I hope your birthday is a good one.