Monday, October 30, 2006
Just say no!
Am I the only one who finds the tradition of blowing out birthday candles completely disgusting?
I mean, think about this for a minute. We put flaming wax all over a cake and ask someone to extinguish the flames with their breath, leading to a fountain of spit and other germs being spewed over the formerly edible dessert. Yuck! And don’t forget the fire hazard. Since when has it been fun to set your guests on fire?
When I am queen, I will seek the originator of this silly idea and sentence them to a dozen lashings with a wet noodle!
Don’t get me wrong. The idea of marking the years in a progressively more challenging way is wonderful, just not at the expense of hygeine and your homeowner’s insurance.
In that vein, I’d like to advocate for a new tradition on birthdays - spinning! The idea is similar to cake spitting, but with far more panache. The birthday girl/boy/woman/man turns one revolution per year they’ve been alive. While they’re spinning, they make a wish. If they don’t fall down before they’re done, the wish will come true. (Note: This is probably good to do before you eat cake, especially as you get older.)
If this ever catches on in a big way, remember you read it here first.
Friday, October 27, 2006
One Got Fat
Question: “If you don’t have a TV, what do you do for entertainment in the evening?”
Answer: “Browse YouTube, of course!”
At what gems you can find! Today’s featured video is a vintage 1963 short called “One Got Fat.” It’s about a group of bicycle riding monkeys that fall victim to grisly accidents - one by one - for not following the rules of the road and not using common sense.
Reflecting on the film and ignoring the fact that no one wears helmets, the safety message still holds up today. Use hand signals, obey traffic signs, don’t ride against traffic or on the sidewalk, use lights and reflectors at night, keep your bike tuned up, and don’t ride with a fat monkey on the handlebars.
P.S. After this post, I promise to lay off the death theme that’s seemed to infiltrate the site the last few days.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Following in their footsteps
Come any closer and I’ll eat you too!
The little fake mice are providing endless hours of entertainment for Forest, Alder, Aspen and Willow. I like to think that they’ve noticed what fun Bentley and Vespa have with the real thing and are practicing for later in life.
A fresh batch of kitten pictures are in the gallery.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Black Death Machine
Dead creatures cease to impress me anymore. Just ask my friend’s mom Debbie about the time she noticed a mangled bird on the grass near the Therm-a-Rest I was rolling up. She jumped; I kept rolling.
Live prey on the other hand makes my stomach turn flip flops. The desperate squeals of little bunnies are the worst, signalling an impending tragedy that I’m more or less powerless to avert. (Trust me, I’ve tried. Bunnies aren’t too good at finding cat-proof hiding places.)
Bentley has been playing with this one for the last two days. He crossed the line last night when he brought it home. I captured it in a shoe box and set it free in the garden. It was probably a futile effort, but it made me feel good.
Here’s a little haiku, inspired by our felines’ hunting prowess:
Run little rabbit!
Run from the Black Death Machine!
Oops. Too slow. You’re dead.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
A brush with death
On Sunday, I finished a month-long first aid course for climbers (MOFA). One of the instructors made a big deal about the brown recluse spider – a very poisonous little arachnid. Click here if you’d like to see what a bite can do; it’s not for the faint of heart!
Depending on which resource you believe, they may or may not live in Western Washington. I figured the chances were pretty low, because our climate is so cold and wet, but I dutifully studied the pictures anyway.
Fast forward to today. I was walking to the door of my house when I noticed a small bug crawling on the stone walkway near our porch. I like bugs so I bent down to see what it was.
Yikes!
Wouldn’t you know it was a recluse, easily identified by its six eyes, grey furry abdomen and striping where the legs met the body. A little more research suggests this isn’t a brown recluse, but rather some other type of recluse spider. Necrosis was still definitely a possibility if this guy decided I wasn’t his friend.
Normally I let spiders be spiders. I’m ashamed to admit, however, that this one is now in spider heaven. I don’t want me or the cats to become spider mincemeat, thank you very much.
