dead bird

Enough said. Bill and I got home from church on Sunday, and he looked up and said, "Oh, the birds are back." Then he stopped and quickly said, "Why don't you go ahead and go inside?"

Dead bird hanging over the edge of the nest. So I went inside and cried (not so much about the bird as it was just a tough day, hormonally). He came in and assured me that it had been "taken care of" and that it was not one of the baby birds. They were all gone. They must have successfully mastered flying. It must have been the mama bird.

That or he was lying through his front teeth to make me feel better.

So I comforted myself by mumbling something about the circle of life. Then went back to the hormonal tear-fest.

a little birdhouse in my soul

It's amazing the things that I miss when I'm moving too fast in life. Such as? The nest of baby birds underneath our deck. I kept noticing this ever-increasing pile of bird poop under our deck (which is right outside our garage). Then, all of a sudden, it was increasing double-time (or rather triple time) because lo and behold, up I look and there are three baby birds. Not cheeping but looking kind of creepy and still. So I cheeped at them, and apparently, I'm more fluent in baby bird than I ever realized because it set them off. They stuck their little beaks open and started cheep-cheep-cheeping waiting for food. Then I felt guilty and ran inside. They must have gotten fed eventually because the next day they were still all there.

Well, tonight, I only saw one little bird and he was on the edge of the nest. They seem to be too young to fly, but he certainly was sitting precariously close to the edge. To be honest, I'm a little confused about how the bird poop gets outside the nest. Do the little baby birds stick their little bird heinies over the edge to poop? Does the mother bird flick it out? Is that all her poop on the ground and inside the nest is disgusting? Things I will never know.

bizarro world

I officially feel as if I've landed on another planet...the bizarre and uncharted world of free time and relaxation. What is this strange place in which I don't have to wake up at 5:15 in the morning or stay at work until 7:00 at night? What shall I do with my time? Actually keep up with the laundry and cleaning? Exercise (okay, not really)? Get a good night's sleep? Gasp....read a book I enjoy???

Yes, I am officially part-time at my work, very part-time. Despite the shell shock to our expendable income, I have greatly enjoyed my week (so far) of almost-freedom. There is, of course, this little voice in the back of my head saying, "Whaddya going to do next, Karen, huh? Whaddya going to do? You need to start planning for your next step, your next job, your next...whatever."

Well, the first thing I'm going to do is relax and enjoy my slothfulness a little bit longer, but in the meantime, I'm open to suggestions from those of you who know me in the real world...or feel like you know me...or just enjoy giving advice.

If you could do anything for say, oh, 2 months or so, what would you do? And what do you think I should do when I return to work (think "part-time" and "low-stress")?

There and Back Again

Bill and I drove to Atlanta for the 4th of July to see his family (actually, we weren't there for the actual 4th--we were driving back in a tired stupor).

While there, we went to White Water, where a good time was had by all. Both Bill and his sister had worked there as teenagers (and when I say teenagers, I mean barely teenagers--Bill had just turned 14, and apparently White Water got busted for child labor practices back in the 90's). He flipped hamburgers at Smokey's Lunch Box where we ate for lunch. Apparently, he had to go in for an official interview and everything. When he left, he sent in a very courteous resignation letter thanking them for "a wonderful first job for someone to begin with in the working world."

This is why I love my husband.

Our nephew is cool. He's cute and funny and obedient, but still all boy. He's on my list. And he knows my name now (along with every single vehicle friend from Thomas the Tank Engine--he can even tell the twin engines "Ben" and "Bill" apart. Apparently, they have slightly different facial expressions.)

Bambi 2000

Well, it's happened again. The deer are attacking. Sunny is in full-on panic mode. And this time, the situation is even more dire.

Two baby deer.

They were so cute! Frolicking and whatnot. I can only hope that if there were ever situation in which there was an ACTUAL threat (not the kind that has four spindly little legs and that you could knock over with a flick of the finger) that Sunny would be even more protective. Bear...cause for barking and growling. Prowler...snarl away. Baby deer...chill out.

I was a little upset that the deer's mommy (I can only assume they were twins) seemed to be nowhere to be found, but she was down the hill a little bit. Still giving them their space but at least letting them think that they were tough and independent.

movie help

Bill and I went to go see 2 movies this week. As we normally go several months without seeing one, this was a pretty big deal. Plus, Superman is coming out this week, and we'll go see that as well, so 3 movies in 2 weeks is just huge.

Both of the movies that we saw featured an architect as one of the main characters: The Lake House and Click. We started to watch Cars, but it was much more "Nascar-y" than I was prepared for, so we switched over to Click. Fluffy but sweet with a good message. But Adam Sandler was at his Sandleriest. I don't think I could have taken one more fart joke.

Even though it got horrible reviews, I really liked the Lake House. Granted, I had been forewarned to go in expecting it to make absolutely no sense on the whole space-time continuum thing. But it was romantic. As we were leaving, Bill said, "Boy, I really took one for the team there." And it's true. Normally, I would never drag him to a movie like that, but I needed some TLC this week.


Then, going to bed last night, Bill asks, "How many T.V. shows or movies can you name with an architect as one of the main characters?"

My list thus far:
1. Lake House
2. Click
3. Brady Bunch
4. 3 Men & a Baby
5. Poseidon
6. the Towering Inferno
7. Return to Me
8. Sleepless in Seattle
9. Singles
10. Star Wars (sigh...I guess technically that got me to 10)

Any more?

You be the Judge

Funny or not Funny?

Bill wanted me to post this joke that he told in Canada (more than once) because he is still laughing about it. I'm still like, "ehhh."

Bill: "Boy, we haven't seen too many policemen here on PEI."

Me: "No, I don't think I've seen one."

Bill: "Well, I wouldn't be worried about getting pulled over even if there were tons of them."

Karen: "????"

Bill: "Those Canadian Mounties couldn't catch me on their horses anyway!"

I vote not funny.


Bill is again looking at PEI real estate. In Summerside. One can dream.



On a completely unrelated note:
I saw a preview for a T.V. show that made me want to upgrade to extended cable to get Animal Planet. Meerkat Manor--I hope that it comes out on DVD soon. First of all, I've been in love with meerkats ever since visiting the Minnesota State Zoo. Second, just in the 5 minute preview, I found myself getting all worked up over the meerkat pups whose evil and stupid uncle pulled them out of their safe hole while their grandmother was gone, and when the grandmother got back, she was SO MAD. It was just like Peyton's Place. But with meerkats.

O, Canada!

Well, I just got back from Canada. Here are some of the pictures.

Prince Edward Island was just BEAUTIFUL! It was calm and quiet and GREEN (oh, the green). All the island is covered in this thick perfectly green grass and red dirt. Not like ugly construction clay that we have here. It's a deep red. The pictures don't do it justice. Although, I do like the one with me starting down the path into the scary Haunted Wood behind Green Gables....oooh!

Here is a list of differences in Canada (or at least PEI) that I noticed during our short stay:

In Canada, they don't give you much ice in your drink, unless you ask for "extra ice" and even then, it's about half of what I'd normally get in a restaurant here.

In Canada, the movies are really expensive ($10, but Canadian, so about $9 American).

In Canada, there are coins for $1 and $2. I understand the $1 "loony" (as they call it), but why $2?

In Canada, the speed limit is posted in kilometers. My husband had some occasional problems with obeying said speed limits, but as we'd often go 10 miles without seeing another car, it wasn't that big of a deal, ehh?

In Canada (or perhaps just PEI) , almost every restaurant serves Pepsi. Blehh. But all the soft drinks came in glass bottles in the store.

In Canada, most of the sinks were stainless steel.

In Canada, "Smarties" (the candy) are chocolate (kind of like M & M's), and there are no M & M's to be found. Also, the Kit-Kat's are different. Don't ask me how. They're just different.

In Canada, on some of the local TV stations, people will just switch back and forth between English and French (and ALL the signs were in both English and French). Very fun.



And funny moment of the trip: Pulling into a gas station to fill up the rental car, I saw the sign that said $1.10, and I said, "DANG, gas is cheap here!" Then, after filling up the car and realizing it was $1.10/liter and not $1.10/gallon, I had to change my comment to, "DANG gas is expensive here."



Interesting things that happened/that I learned on my visit to PEI:
-My husband is able to fly a kite higher than anyone I've ever met before. He must have had that kite up almost 1,000 feet over the ocean.

-The Japanese LOVE Anne of Green Gables. Prince Edward Island is a bit of a pilgrimage to "Anne's home" for many Japanese people. Anne of Green Gables became required reading in their schools after WWII to improve Canadian/Japanese relations.

-That beautiful purple wildflower in the picture at the top is called lupin, and they grow everywhere.

-People on PEI used to use ground up lobster as fertilizer. Not anymore, but Bill and I still ate it every night we were there. Most restaurants have their own lobster traps and harvest their own blue mussels (80% of which worldwide come from little PEI--the mussels, not the lobster).

farewell, sweet goats

Well, apparently, the owner of the fields behind my office got rid of the goats. Every last one of them. They are going to be improving the fence then getting buffalos. That's right. Buffalos.

The conversation went a little like this:

Setting (my office, Karen looking perplexedly out her window looking for goats)

Co-worker: Hey, did you know that they got rid of the goats?

Karen: Really?

Co-worker: Yep.

Karen: All of them?

Co-worker: Yeah.

Karen: Even Kicky?

Co-worker: You NAMED them?

Karen: (little nod)

Co-worker: Well, they're getting buffalos instead. Those should be cool to look at.

Karen: Not the same.

My Husband the Squirrel

Just when I thought that I was getting a lot better with the hypnogogic hallucinations, I had a doozy. Last night, I very vividly felt a squirrel run onto my pillow, and I (rather ferociously) pushed it away from me. I then turned on the light, realized I was not even on the side of the bed that I thought I was on, had a rare moment of lucidity where I told myself it was a HH, and rolled right over and went to sleep.

I called my husband at work this morning to apologize for the squirrel bludgeoning. Thankfully, he rarely remembers anything the first few minutes after waking, especially in the middle of the night.

my favorite way to wake up in the morning...

...is with a little kiss from my husband.

kicky 'n' the gang

I just moved office spaces a few weeks ago, and now, my office has a huge window in the back (as huge as the window can be in a teeny little office) that overlooks a sheep & goat pasture. The sheep are all right, kind of ratty and stick to themselves, but I love the goats--especially the babies. I have named them (the above picture is not one of the actual goats, but is a good likeness):

Kicky--the ringleader; the others tend to mimic and follow him; seems to be a bit on the serious side for a goat.

Mr. Adventure--favorite activity is climbing to the top of the little barn and jumping off, usually followed closely by...

Runty--tiny brown goat that likes to run. and run. and run. He seems to be the most random in his likes and dislikes. Likes: little runty-sized oak tree to eat and running. Dislikes: being alone.

Little Jack Black--very laidback; spends much of day gazing off into distance wistfully (much like me).

Hornsby--so-named because he already has little nubs of horns sticking out; he is the outsider...I think the others are jealous and/or scared of him.


Runty is my favorite.

high on LIFE!

So I never thought about the implications that the name of my blog could have regarding meth until my sister pointed it out on in her blog a few weeks ago. Sudafed is indeed a way of life for me, but it's because of allergies, not a sordid drug addiction. Just to clear that up.

So I'm going to Prince Edward Island. Yahoo!!!! I've always dreamed of going there since I was a little girl reading "Anne of Green Gables", but in doing research, the whole island should prove to be just beautiful! We'll be staying in an Inn on the ocean and I am just counting down the seconds! And yes, I realize that it's probably cheesy, but I DON'T CARE!! I'm going to say things like, "I don't want diamond sunbursts or marble halls...I just want you!" And people will stare at me as if I'm crazy, and again, I DON'T CARE! It's too bad the bridge isn't actually there on PEI, or I'd make Bill re-enact the whole scene with me.

Hello, goodbye.

Well, I left for a few days for a conference and came back to a Joaquin firestorm...instigated entirely by my sister and one of my partners in crime...but a firestorm nonetheless.

Joaquin is a good actor, an attractive man, possibly a decrepit person (who knows?), and we're all in desperate need of God's grace. There.

I'm happy to be home, but I've been in a grand funk (as my best friend's mom always used to say) lately...if you couldn't already tell. And dang it if this grand funk isn't keeping me from enjoying friends, normal activities, etc. Now, I'm not oblivious, and I know what my readership (all 5 of you) is probably thinking right now. Hmmm, could that grand funk's name be "depression"?? And yes, that's part of it, but it all seems to be tied to one small part of my life that has turned HUGE, so I've decided that that one small/HUGE part must be removed, and right now, that removal makes me sad, thus feeding that greedy little funk for the present. But it must be done to bring the parts that have a rightful spot in the "enormous" category back to their rightful spots.

In so doing, I bid the following adieu:
-waking & worrying
-crying over things that are not sad, just overwhelming
-saying "no" to activities that I want to say "yes" to because I can't be counted on

And welcome the following:
-waking up and cuddling with my husband
-laughing with my friends over a good dinner
-saying "no" to activities that I do want to say "no" to

It Ain't Me, Babe

I was going to write all about stress and boundaries, but I think Johnny Cash summed it up a bit better:

Go away from my window.
Leave at your own chosen speed.
I'm not the one you want, babe.
I'm not the one you need.

You say you're looking for someone
Who's never weak, but always strong
To protect you and defend you
Whether you are right or wrong.
Someone to open each and every door...

But it ain't me, babe, no, no, no
It ain't me, babe, it ain't me you're looking for
Babe.

Go lightly from the ledge, babe,
Go lightly on the ground.
I'm not the one you want, babe,
I'll only let you down.

You say you're looking for someone
Who'll promise never to part.
Someone who'll close his eyes to you
Someone who'll close his heart.
Someone to die for you and more...

But it ain't me, babe, no, no, no
It ain't me, babe, it ain't me you're looking for
Babe.

You say you're looking for someone
To pick you up each time you fall
To gather flowers constantly
And to come each time you call.
And to love you for your life and nothin' more...

But it ain't me, babe, no, no, no
It ain't me, babe, it ain't me you're looking for

Babe.

World's Worst Wife

I forgot my husband's birthday.

I remembered it up to the day, but the day of his actual birthday, we were both working 16 hours and focused on a huge event the next day, and then, at 11:30 that night, I was lying in bed, waiting for him to get ready, and he said something about it being a sucky birthday.

I sat bolt upright, started bawling, and said, "Happy Birthday" between sobs (As I'd been crying all day getting things together for the event, it wasn't actually that dramatic...it was more like I just resumed crying.)

To my defense, he had forgotten it was his own birthday until mid-afternoon but still...

I also came to the difficult decision that something's gotta give. I enjoy being a part of helping other people build their families through adoption, but the job's not worth it if it's going to have this negative impact on me and my own family.

So here I sit, looking at the birthday card that his nephew sent him. It has a frog on the front and a crayon picture of some random lines inside with the caption, "Happy Birthday Uncle Billy Marching Happy Dance" written out by Bill's sister. And I'm just thankful for something that will get me to smile.

Library

Well, it may mean that I am immature or infantile, but my favorite section of the library is the children's section. I always feel so judged and looked-down-upon in the adult section. I only check out fluffy chick-lit, and the reference desk staff always looks down their nose at me when I do.

But, oh, the children's section! I was going specifically to check out Anne of Avonlea and Anne of the Island (my life has been pretty cheerless as of late, and sometimes, when I'm in the "depths of despair", only Anne will help).

It was so nice to not feel judged. Granted, I was 3 times the size of any other person in that section, but they didn't care. They all just looked up from their books and smiled and went straight back to reading. They didn't try to peer at the title or the thickness of the book. No! They were just glad that they got their hands on "Olivia" before I did.

Fat Dog in a Little Boat

Well, Sunny has gone on his first official kayak ride. It was quite the sight to behold. He did fairly well...much better than I was expecting and braced for. Bill paddled him around the cove. And you will note as our realtor did upon first meeting him, "Well, there's a dog that hasn't missed a meal." Unfortunately, I am a bad doggy-mother, and he has missed many a walk. You will also note that he doesn't make eye contact with the camera. The vast majority of pictures that I have of him are either of him looking away from the camera or of his heiny.

Riverboat Queen

Bill and I both took yesterday off and took advantage of the beautiful weather to take our two-person kayak for her maiden river voyage. It was beautiful scenery, and there was not another soul on the river, so that was nice. But it wasn't how I envisioned it would be.

When Bill first proposed the "playing hooky" plan (don't get too jealous--we're both working this afternoon), I saw it all in my mind...I would be basking in the warm sun, wearing my little bikini working on my tan. We'd stop every hour or so and eat yummy yet healthy snacks that I'd prepared beforehand and brought along. We'd both take right to paddling and be expert river navigators right off the bat.

The reality:
-The night before, I remembered that I'd left my favorite bathing suit in Florida, and my mother-in-law hasn't sent it back to me yet. So I ended up having to wear my other suit that leaves me a bit nippy unless it's like tropical warm out (which it ended up not being because...)

-Bill decided we needed to leave early to beat the work traffic--big broo-ha-ha in which we were both trying in vain to get the other person to see our side of when we should wake up and leave the house (me--"whenever we wake up", him--"earlier than is natural or normal"). We ended up getting up at 5:00 A!M! and leaving the house at 6:45. (yes, Bill won that one) We did indeed beat the work traffic, but it ended up being a bit chillier than I was planning on. It did finally warm up, though.

-Also due to the aforementioned departure time, those healthy yet yummy snacks ended up being soggy sandwiches and some stale chex mix.

-Steering was pretty much the opposite of intuitive, and we kept flipping the kayak around, and of course, every time we did, in my mind I was thinking, "This is all Bill's fault." And I know that he was thinking the same thing. We finally got more of the hang of it and decided by the end that he would do the paddling in the front and I would just stick to steering in the back so that we didn't end up overcompensating for the current.

It ended up being a fun day, all in all. Bill and I both agree that every couple that is considering marriage should be sent down a river in a tandem kayak and debriefed afterwards. The guy who shuttled our car said that the worst he's seen is a couple that they had to call separate cabs for afterwards. He said that for a first river tandem kayak experience, if the couple is still talking to each other when they reach the pick-up point, they can consider the day a success.

Oh, and I saw a wild turkey for the first time, AND I saw a dog standing on the cab of a truck that was driving down the road. He looked like he was king of the mountain (the dog, not the turkey).

Then, Bill took me out to eat sushi.

All in all, a good day.

World's Least Effective Guard Dog

It's official. My dog serves no useful purpose whatsoever other than looking cute and playing well with small children. He has spent the entire morning barking incessantly at ??? (a bird? the trees? grass? absolutely nothing?). He is convinced that he's a watch dog but the only complication is that we live in one of the world's safest neighborhoods so there's nothing to watch. It's mostly retired people, and they'll shake their fist at you if you go so much as a mile over the 15 mph speed limit. So Sunny is doomed to spend his days barking at the air and getting upset when he can't find his binky toy (usually because he's dragged his upstairs binky downstairs or vice versa).

There was some excitement for a few weeks when he would go to the back window and growl his head off (he doesn't usually growl), but just until I finally spotted the family of deer he was seeing (and that was eating patches of our grass). So now, it's a big joke whenever he sees them: "Hurry Sunny! The deer are attacking! They're going to get into the house! They're going to kill us all!" And then he'll lose interest after about 3 minutes.

I swear, he is such a three year-old.