Hey, lady, no nest shots!

I can’t imagine them flying off in a day or two, but that’s what I calculate. *sniff*

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Today we picked strawberries ($8 for half a flat) in the HOT sun. If you’re on or near the island, check out the Manzanita Farm. They’re open this week and weekend, they said, from 11 to 5.

Kid said, “Mommy, I never picked strawberries BEfore! I picked blackberries and blueberries, but never strawberries…..”

Lucky Kid, I think to myself, growing up where berries grow up.

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We still have two baby Swainson thrushes and a mama who flits in and out with snacks (what she’s feeding them I don’t know). Feathers are coming in, but unless they have their beaks up it’s near impossible to see where one baby ends and the other begins.

Here’s what they look like:
A mash-up of bird. Hard to believe they could fly in 3 or 4 days.

All of which means our first baby is still not allowed in the front yard.
*sigh*

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Must stop worrying. Where IS my medication?!

I don’t know if mama thrush has ever laid eggs before, but her nest building skills leave something to be desired. I now see why they build them close to the ground.

The nest has fallen out of the bush TWICE. Which also goes to show my nest-securing skills leave something to be desired.

I scooped up the three babies both times and put them back in the nest, but as of yesterday, one of them, the littlest one, just wasn’t making it. Now we are down to two. WHEN are those feathers coming in?!

The hubs decided this nest needed a SAFETY STRING. So here’s what he did.
There! That’ll fix it!!

Then the hubs saw a CAT prowling around the front area of the yard near the nest. Neighbor Phil, was that YOU? It’s a jungle out there! Where is my medication?!

And I saw some other, larger bird hopping around the bush twice. Definitely NOT a thrush. Mama thrush hopped off the nest and did a STARE DOWN. What else can she do? Flap her wings? Ooooooh, scary.

The odds just seem stacked against her. Where’s an RPG launcher in the shape of a branch when you need one?

Every morning I brace myself for the worst, and the hubs and I have this conversation:

Him: Do we have babies today?

Me: Yes, so far. (sigh)

So in an effort to RELAX, tell I myself these mantras:

Let it go, and let God.
This too shall pass.
I release this attachment.
It’s all part of nature. They’re all God’s creatures.
They have their own path. I cannot control it.

Yes, I’m telling myself all these bits, and I’m singing that song from the Lion King about the circle of life, but I’m left with one conclusion:

Mother Nature is not nice.

Oh, yeah. Happy 4th. I hope YOU’RE enjoying yourselves. Even with all these dangers.

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COMPARE:
1. Both are cartoons.

2. Neither is rated R.

3. Both are less than 100 minutes long.

CONTRAST:
1. Panda is clearly made for kids with colorful, rollicking fun; Wall-E is made for….well, I can only guess, depressed environmentalists who just got divorced, lost their jobs, and were evicted from their green-built yurt.

2. Panda has an uplifting message — persevere and follow your dreams, no matter how unlikely; Wall-E has a bleak message — humans are pigs.

3. Panda is full of loud, kung fu motions; Wall-E is full of bittersweet pantomime by a robot.

I’m not sayin’ Wall-E is bad, just improperly marketed. It’s more like the illegitimate love child of 2001: A Space Odyssey and Lost in Space.

(hey, just had a thought: maybe they could hand out dope instead of that blue plastic Wall-E watch (why the watch, anyway? did someone use a watch in the movie?))

I doubt my husband any kid under 10 would understand the entire storyline of Wall-E (hi hubs! luv ya!).

And if you want to watch melancholy pantomime, rent Alfred Hitchcock’s Rear Window. Miss Lonelyhearts does an excellent job.

In conclusion, for a good time with your kid, see KUNG FU PANDA.

Agree? Disagree? Discuss.

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adjective:

1. Generating or shedding tears; given to shedding tears; suffused with tears; tearful.
2. Causing or tending to cause tears.

Lachrymose is from Latin lacrimosus, from lacrima.

As parents, we learn new lachrymose things all the time from our kids.

No clean Hello Kitty shirt? WAAAAAAHHHH!

No RED popsicle? WAHHHHHH!

No watermelon gum? WAHHHHH!

Yesterday, I learned about a grown-up lachrymose activity: BIKRAM YOGA.

Also known as Hot Yoga, this workout involves a sauna-like room and more towels than a Seahawks locker room. And no towel-snappies, either. You don’t want anyone’s towel to touch you, believe me.

Everyone is dripping. Honestly.

It looks kinda like this:

Luckily for me, an hour into the class my tears resembled sweat, like this:

I’ll be crying for awhile, too. Until I can raise my arms above my head again.

What’s making you cry lately?

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Some days, I feel I am climbing uphill everywhere I go, even on a flat street.

This was another memorable skit from those brilliant Brits, Monty Python! Are YOU climbing an ascent today?

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Remember her? She’s a Swainson’s Thrush (I think).

As of yesterday, she has these.

We’re positively giddy here at the Let the dog in! household.

Stay tuned for feathers.

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I finish brushing, take a sip of water and spit.

“Mommy, have you ever peed in a cup?”

“Yes,” I said finishing my last gulp. “At the doctor’s office. Have YOU?”

“Yes.” Snicker, snicker.

I slowly set the bathroom cup back on the counter, considering whether you can rinse your own mouth out with BLEACH….

“What CUP?” I glared into my own reflection in the mirror.

“That cup.”

“THIS ONE?? The one I just set down?”

“No, that one over there.” She pointed to another cup on the rim of the bathtub.

Whew, that was a close one.

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transitive verb:

1. To dress up; to deck for show.
2. To dress or arrange oneself for show; to primp.

Prink is probably an alteration of prank, from Middle English pranken, “to show off,” perhaps from Middle Dutch pronken, “to adorn oneself,” and from Middle Low German prunken (from prank, “display”).

I don’t have a lot to say about this word, except that a) it’s short and could be useful in Scrabble (if I EVER get to have game night again), and secondly, it sounds like a cuss word, on equal footing with something like “drat.”

Maybe a cross between “fink” and “prick”??

“That was my parking spot! You PRINK!”

But actually, it’s just what girls do. And maybe some boys, too.

My Kid heads toward the princess theme of dress-up (oh, so original!), but now that she’s almost in kindergarten, I see her dress-up interest fading as she matures into a “big girl.”

I’m a little sad. Maybe I need a tiara.

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Do you even know what Cabela’s is? I knew. I’d seen the catalogs. Heck, I’d even ordered from their slim selection of women’s clothes (pink camo IS coming back).

But none of that prepared me for their new store in Washington, south of Tacoma in Lacey.

Think REI, but with guns, hundreds of fishing poles, and actual fishing boats (in the store), all shiny with that sparkly paint Kid loves. Plus, a real fish tank and pretend small town scene shooting range (with guns down low for the kids!).

But what catches your eye upon entering is this:

They have an enormous display of stuffed wild animals, some with plaques of when and who “took” them.

And there’s not just the regional selection of beasts. No, they have creatures from all over the world.

Now you can see for yourself what a kudu looks like. Well, at least the head of one.

It’s not that I am against hunting completely, but as I stared at the 50+ animals on display, I started realizing all these animals looking so majestic, probably looked even more majestic when they were alive, running, jumping, swimming. I mean, they even had prairie dogs. Who’s hunting those? They’re like the little cousin of meerkats, for cripe’s sake. Is this Anthony Bourdain’s newest amuse buche?

Plus, hunting to me is not sport when your biggest hardship is staying awake so you don’t fall out of the tower you are sitting in. I want hunters HUNTING. Marching into the wilderness, hungry, sober, trudging uphill, looking, listening, and maybe worried that a larger mammal is going to take their prize before they get safely back home. And possibly “take” the hunters, too.

Yes, I want the hunters to be hunted at the same time they are hunting. Level the playing field a little.

And if you’re gonna get that prairie dog, you BETTER plan on eating it. With a nice merlot sauce.

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