Misplaced Bliss

Two times now in the last week or so I've encountered a phenomenon I'd never experienced before. We've all responded to that email in the past, where they ask you to list all of your favorite things . . favorite vacation, favorite color, favorite cartoon. Some of the responses come easier than others. For me, it's the favorite smells that are a no-brainer. The smell of ozone right after the rain starts. Smoke, whether it's from a spinning tire or hickory wood . . just not "you just burned dinner" smoke. The other one is basil, which when torn or cut gives off one of the most pungent and memorable scents I know of.

The phenomenon I speak of happened first when my after-shave gel of choice ran out with no back-up. I scoured the bathroom cabinet for a substitute and found a sample I was given with a bunch of other products. Instead of the usual gel, this one was a spray, labeled a "toner", but in general it was to serve the same purpose. Later that day, after I'd showered and shaved, I pulled out the bottle and sprayed it liberally into my hand. As I rubbed my face and neck with it, I was overwhelmed by its scent. It reminded me strongly of the Liquid Smoke product I use when cooking ribs. The smell was strong, and there were no noticeable undertones to disguise the smoky smell. I rubbed it on my face and could think of absolutely nothing other than smoky barbeque for the next 15 minutes or so, until it faded into the background. I love that smell, but my after-shave product is not an appropriate place for it. I filed it away as only slightly ironic, and didn't think a lot more about it.

That is, of course, until it happened again. I went to wash my hands at our kitchen sink and the bottle of lavender-scented hand soap had run empty. I was covered with grease (or maybe it was grime), so there was no opportunity to run upstairs to get a replacement. I reached over and reluctantly used the basil-scented hand soap that until then was only a decoration on the counter. I washed up, rinsed and dried my hands, and then unconsciously simply smelled my hands. I suppose I was hoping that I'd love the smell . . after all, basil is right up there at the top of my list. But it happened again. As much as I love the scent of basil, it just seemed wrong when it was coming from my hands. I think the makers of these products need to put a little more thought into whether or not these popular scents they're using actually make sense in these particular products. I imagine the group of Williams-Sonoma product designers probably all agreed enthusiastically when the idea was proposed for basil-scented hand soap. It's food, people love it, we're fancy . . nice try folks, but it just doesn't work. I think maybe a big part of the appeal of these scents is that they're just so natural . . they occur and there's usually something very genuine going on to accompany them, like a rain storm, scratch-cooking, or a fire burning. Maybe I'm in the minority on this, but I stand firm in my position.

gniknihT

Here's a hint . . look at it in a mirror. Or just take the time to spell it in reverse. It's the word "thinking", and some backwards thinking is exactly what I was confronted with this morning.

Being Valentine's Day, Mandi and I took the time to get up early and make a special breakfast for the girls. She tinted some pancake batter pink, formed them into cute little heart shapes, and sprinkled them with candied hearts. We all sat down together to eat before Avery left for school. As we finished our cleanup and hustled Avery out the door the dishwasher finished its cycle. I offered to empty it before I went upstairs to get changed, but Mandi suggested that we wait a while and give the dishes some time to dry. She offered to do it later, while Lily and I were at the gym, and I thanked her for that gesture. Unfortunately, in the words of Phil Collins, something happened on the way to heaven.

The plan was for Mandi to meet us at the gym when we were finished, then we'd all carpool to the mall to pick up a few things. When I gave her the fifteen minute warning so she could get in the car to come pick us up, she groaned that she really didn't want to get off the couch . . but begrudgingly she made her way over there. She hopped in the car and regaled her story of couch-sitting and tea-sipping, then she casually mentioned that she'd neglected to empty the dishwasher. Now please understand that by itself, that would certainly not have been worthy of its own blog post. It's her day off, I want her to relax, and it's not a big deal for me to unload the dishes when I get home from the mall. It's what comes next, however, that just baffles me.

I suppose it was in an attempt to seem not-so-lazy that immediately following her admission came the following rebuttal . . "But I did get everything out on the counter and ready for dinner tonight!" "Let me get this straight", I said. "The dishwasher is clean but not empty, there are half a dozen dishes from breakfast still on the counter that need to go in to the dishwasher, and instead of emptying it and reducing the clutter you added cans and boxes for a meal that's not going to happen for 7 more hours to it?" Huh? In whose world does that sequence of events even begin to make sense? As if the retrieval of cans from the pantry is a time consuming step in the preparation of the meal? Because you did something it's OK that you didn't do the logical thing? What just happened here? I mocked her as mercilessly as I felt comfortable with . . being Valentine's Day I didn't want to take it too far . . but I need to understand where this kind of thinking originates. Is it another one of those genetically encoded things, like over-packing and maintaining your position that you have "nothing to wear" despite a closet full of clothes? Seriously . . to me, a small amount of laziness and procrastination is far easier to swallow than straight-up irrationality. You'd think, growing up with just Mom and 2 sisters and now having the wife and 2 girls, that I'd have started figuring out all these nuances of a woman's thought processes. I guess there are just too many of them for a man to ever grasp them all.

58 And Counting

The 'Big Year' birding list hit 58 yesterday, as I made a mid-afternoon trip down to the Moss Creek Nature Trail to see if there was anything I'd been missing. A few weeks ago I'd wandered off the beaten path and spotted what I thought was a Fox Sparrow (red variety) in a really dense thicket at the edge of a pond. He did not stay in sight long enough for me to capture him on film, and I was not comfortable adding him to the list without either photographic evidence or an extended view. Yesterday, in a similar thicket closer to the Trail's entrance, I saw another one. He was unusually still this time, perching on a tree branch for more than three minutes and posing like a model as I studied his markings and my field guide. He was quite large compared to the White-throated, Savannah, and Song sparrows that are so common there, and his red plumage was distinctive. His facial markings matched the illustration's patterns almost to a T, and I felt great about the identification.

Then I wandered down toward the other end of the Trail, following a male Eastern Towhee that was being shy and was apparently not as photogenic as his female counterpart. As I gave up on him and focused instead on just listening to the different songs of the birds, one call stood out and actually drew me over the fence to the water's edge. The loud, boisterous vocalizations sounded agitated and aggressive, and I was determined to seek out the source. Just as I raised the binoculars to scan the woods across the river I spotted a very large bird darting between the trees. When I pulled focus on what I initially thought was just a crow, I was startled to find a Pileated Woodpecker making all of the racket. I had seen these giants a year and a half ago on Daufuskie Island, SC and was just awed by their size and plumage. This sighting was the first time I've seen one since then, and it really re-invigorated me with respect to our Nature Trail. I've long suspected those woods across the river were home to Barred Owls and other mature forest species, but I've currently got no access to them. This sighting has encouraged me to seek out the property owners and ask permission to bird their woods.

So the list is at 58 species right now, a solid 38.4% to goal. I've still not ID'ed as many of the waterfowl as I'd like that are wintering and breeding in the local lakes, so hopefully I can push the total closer to 70 by the time migration starts early next month.

Ode on Chocolate

by Avery Eaton

I love chocolate good for me.
I love chocolate on a tree.
I love chocolate better than me.

Chocolats not better on a tree.
I love chocolate.
When it's sunny.
Now go to the kitchen.
And cook me a chocolate bunny.

I love chocolate in a bush.
I love chocolate in a house.
I love chocolate in the grass.
I love chocolate on my mouse.

When I go outside today.
And it's rainy.
Go in the kitchen and bake me a . . . chocolate candy canie.

All original spelling has been preserved for authenticity.

Here's a visual aide, just in case you think I made this up.


Now go in the kitchen and cook me a chocolate bunny! Beeyotch!

A Potentially Mobile Blog

Right now I'm sitting on my couch.

Have you stopped sweating yet? Are your goosebumps gone? Exciting news like that often takes hours, if not days, to process and get past. Wait . . you mean you're not thrilled by that? Huh? You don't even get why I mentioned it? Duh, people, I'm on the computer AND the couch at the same time! That's right, our brand new spring green Dell laptop arrived Tuesday afternoon, so I now have the potential to blog, chat, and otherwise compute on a very mobile level. And I plan to do precisely that. Heck, even if it's just here on the couch, upstairs on the bed, or outside on the back porch. More importantly though, I'll be able to stay connected on Mandi's days off, which have been more and more frequent lately.

This new "toy" comes at a perfect time for more reasons than that, too. As you may remember I interviewed for a spot on our Homeowners Association's Board of Directors last month. They chose someone else for the position, but that didn't stop the Board from asking me to take on a role involving the community's fledgling newsletter. I'm leaning strongly toward accepting the responsibility, although I haven't committed to it yet. One of the reasons for my hesitation is that the leadership of CharlotteAreaDads.com has also asked me to participate in the creation of its monthly newsletter. While I don't expect that to require a ton of time on my part, I just have never been a fan of the "over-promise then under-deliver" mentality. I'd rather make sure I can do everything well before spreading myself too thin. I really enjoy the writing aspect of both opportunities, which is why I'm leaning strongly toward accepting both roles, but I don't want to neglect my other responsibilities (including this blog) in order to fulfill them. So we'll see. I'll keep you posted.

As for my other endeavors, here are some quick updates. In addition to the new computer, we took the plunge on a new printer yesterday. We'd been putting it off until the computer arrived, at Mandi's insistence, and we finally made it happen yesterday. We chose one that will print photos, has a flat-bed scanner, and is much more modern than our old HP OfficeJet. That being said, we've got no more excuses to slack off on the recipe page. We got organized yesterday and I'll be spending some time this afternoon further updating the list.

The bird watching has been slowed somewhat lately, at least in terms of adding new species to the Big Year list. We've taken some trips recently to go searching, and we've seen a lot of birds on many of them. But aside from the Ruddy Ducks I identified at the Coddle Creek Reservoir Tuesday, nothing new has been added to the list. On the bright side, Mandi's dad loaned me his 60mm spotting scope (which was crucial in the Ruddy Duck ID), so I've at least got a little better shot of adding some of the waterfowl I've been missing . . just gotta get my butt out there and look for them. There's something about stopping on the side of a 55 MPH 2-lane highway to spot ducks that makes me a little nervous. But if I'm going to make 150 species the wintering waterfowl will need to be a priority . . so stand by for updates.

And finally, because I know you've all been dying to hear, the newspaper article I mentioned in the "Fish Wrapper" post last week ran in Thursday's Charlotte Observer. For those of you who did not receive a copy via the US Mail, here's the link to the online version of the story . The photos which made the story very interesting in the actual paper are absent online, but they used the photo of the Great Blue Heron that I included in "The Fish Wrapper", and it looked really good in print. Avery was so excited about the article that she took a copy in for show-and-tell at school, and it apparently was a big hit with her classmates. So that's all for now, but I may be back online later this afternoon with an update on the recipe page.

The Silver Platter

Avery has a knack for handing me the occasional riotous post on the ol' proverbial silver platter. The last time it was a letter she wrote to NASA at school. You remember . . . "Dear NASA, blah blah blah their air is stinky blah blah blah Your Friend Avery" It was hysterical, probably second only to the "Poop is Comical" post about Lily and her blowout at the gas station. Well yesterday afternoon she once again produced an absolute gem, totally unbeknownst to her.

The plan was for her to spend Friday night at her Grandma's house, something special she gets to do by herself to spend some time with Grandma and Grandpa and get a welcome respite from Lily, Mandi, and me. (That is in fact proper grammar . . you can look it up.) Anyway, I told her to pack a bag, just some jammies, undies, and a change of clothes. The plan was to head over there right when Lily woke up from her nap, so I pushed her to get packed as soon as she got home from school. At around 3:00 Lily woke up, and as I took her downstairs I called for Avery to get her bag and come down with us. Her response is where the story got interesting . . "I can't carry both of them, can you help me?!"

Both of them? You're going for eighteen hours and you've packed more than one bag? What do you think this is, summer camp? I mean, really. How early do our wives teach our daughters this ridiculous over-packing habit? I thought for sure 7 was too young to be an over-packer. But sure enough, I get to the bottom of the stairs and there she is with her roller-board in one hand and a completely stuffed tote bag in the other. To top it off, she had to put her toothbrush in the front pocket of the suitcase because there wasn't enough room inside for it! So I went up to help her bring them down and the tote easily weighed thirty pounds. Of course, that was the one she asked me to carry. She put her coat on we headed out, and when we got to the car I actually had to open the trunk to stow her stuff . . I felt like I was chauffering her to the airport for a week-long getaway! Later I found out that she had jammed about 14 different toys and pets and random electronic gadgets into the bags that she hoped Grandma would spend all night playing with her. (Ok, so that grammar might be a little shaky. Get over it.)

Anyway, if anyone's looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, er, Avery, for her birthday . . perhaps some more voluminous luggage is in order? I'm just saying . .

"Just Call Me . . ."

" . . . Princess!" Ah, kids. We love all the cute little idiosyncrasies. We adore watching them begin to do things that they've taught themselves, like throwing a ball or jumping in to the pool. It is, however, quite a different thing when your toddler picks up something so outlandish that you shake your head and ask yourself out loud, "Did that really just happen?"

One of Lily's favorite things to do recently is to play dress-up. She's got two Rubbermaid totes full of Disney Princess dresses, old dance costumes, crowns, shoes, and the like. Honestly, I think her most favorite activity is dumping the contents of the totes onto the floor in her room and throwing them over her head like confetti. A very close second is choosing the princess she wants to "be" today and getting dressed up. She invariably completes the outfit with all the proper accessories . . her magic crown, her tappin' shoes, and whatever jewelry and purses suit her whim at the moment. She gets a little help from me or Avery with the dress and then it's off to the magical land of make believe she goes.

I know this doesn't sound like it's going to be an out of the ordinary activity, which in truth is exactly where I want you to be going at this point in the story. I want you thinking, "Come on rookie, all little girls like to play dress-up." I know that. But how many of them, once dressed, absolutely refuse to break character? Lily knows all of the different outfits and which characters they correspond to. We've got Sleeping Beauty, Snow White, Belle (from Beauty and the Beast, dads), and Barbie. She also has some Dora The Explorer digs she got for Christmas that occasionally get worked in to the rotation. So when she's done dressing up, when she's got her tappin' shoes on the right feet, and when her magic crown has decided to stay just right on her head, the transformation has been made. "Daddy," she'll ask, "can I have a snack?" "Sure," I respond, "what do you want Lily?" Her response? Not "grapes", not "a cookie". No, before this conversation can continue she interjects "Just call me princess!" And she's dead serious. You will absolutely not address her as anything other than what the outfit makes her. "No, Daddy, you hafa call me Snow White!" She's relentless about staying in character, and I'm amazed by how far into a true role play of whatever story she's acting out she'll go. More than a few times I've played along and she'll actually make it the entire way through an episode of Dora, remembering every obstacle and how it was overcome. It's really quite amusing, and it makes me think more and more about getting her involved with acting in some way. Oh wait, nevermind, you actually have to listen and follow directions to act . .