Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Class Time With Professor Padawan

Dear Professor,

I am a student, and I keep my nose to the grindstone during the school year, so when it’s time for a break, I want to relax as much as possible. How do I know that I have squeezed all the fun out of Spring Break that I can?

Signed,

Want My Money’s Worth

Dear Money’s Worth,

An excellent question. And also an easy one. You will know that you have properly utilized your Spring Break when at 10am on a Friday morning, you look like this:

Well done!

 

***Editor’s note: I know it looks as though he has spent his Spring Break deep in study. Rest assured he did not. Having carried all his bedding downstairs the night before for a sleepover (or a stay-up-all-night-er), he was forced to use his books as a pillow.

 

An Open Letter to the Thief Who Steals My Jewelry Box

Dear Sir or Madame,

In response to some recent break-ins, our neighborhood has met and formed a neighborhood watch. The first meeting was eye-opening. The coordinators shared things that Sneaky McSneakersons tend to look for when planning their next big heist. Toys in the yard apparently attract thieves because where there are kids, there are video game systems. I won’t deny that we have one. (I’m sure you’ll get a pretty penny for our Super Nintendo, once you’ve knocked off all the dust and vacuumed out the kitty litter. And shaken out the goldfish crackers. And after you replace the left controller that hasn’t worked right since someone dropped it in the aquarium.)

Then we went around the room sharing any experience we’ve had with theft and vandalism. All three robbery victims reported the same thing; that their jewelry boxes had been stolen. I was shocked and horrified I knew then that I needed to write you this letter. I owe you a bit of an apology.

You have clearly gone to a lot of trouble to get to this point. You’ve made it past alarm and canine, braved the gauntlet of snake cages, maybe even turned an ankle on the assorted Legos decorating my floor, and for what? My jewelry box. Yeah, about that.

I’m sorry about my necklaces. I found most of them at thrift stores. Some of them may turn your neck green, but a scrub with baking soda will take it off. A little cocoa butter will clear the rash right up. And if you have any food allergies, best avoid eating the macaroni necklace.

Sorry about the little suede bag of baby teeth, too. If you’re not a parent yourself, it can seem a little ghoulish to hang on to them. If you are a parent, you’ll know just how precious every little piece of their childhood is. Even though I’m not totally sure which tooth came from which kid.

I am sincerely sorry for my ring collection. If I were wearing those mood rings right now, you could see just how sincere I am. And don’t get too excited about that other one with the sparkly blue stone. It’s not real. In fact, it may actually be rock candy. My bracelets won’t bring you much, either. Except the Grim Reaper silly band. You may be able to get something for that one. I know my son will give you three Harry Potter silly bands. Of your choice. So there’s that.

But I am the most deeply apologetic for the brooch made out of elephant dung. It was a gift. I won’t even try to explain. But it’s environmentally friendly, and I swear it doesn’t smell. Just don’t get it wet and you’ll be fine. It would dress up your orange jump suit and make you look real pretty.

You could try again in about ten years when I’ve really made it as a writer. I might have some better stuff then. But probably not. After all, you’re talking to the person who kept a piece of jewelry made out of elephant dung. For five years. My financial clout may improve, but my taste probably won’t. Sorry for your trouble.

Respectfully yours,

Heather

PS: If you have the time to sort your loot before the police arrive, would you be so kind as to leave behind the macaroni necklace and the baby teeth? Those things are priceless.

 

The Best April Fool’s Trick EVER.

My daughter has an evil streak. I admit I kind of like it. A couple of years ago, she perpetrated the greatest prank in the universe. I may have put her up to it, but I’m pleading the fifth.

Anyway, it all started when I got a “tween kit” from Kotex, a nifty little pamphlet that contained coupons and suggestions on how to talk to my tween about first periods. Which was weird because my only tween was the Padawan, and I always considered it his teacher’s job to teach him about punctuation, but whatever. We got the little packet, and an idea began to take shape.

Girl-child immediately found a piece of junk mail addressed to her dad. She carefully removed the address label and affixed it to the packet with a bit of glue. Then she mixed it in with the day’s mail and waited for her prey.

Yes.. I saved it. Evidence of her evil genius.

When my husband came home, he flipped casually through the mail. And then he stopped, casting furtive glances to left and right. His brow crinkled, and I heard him mutter “Why do they think I want to know this?” as he began to hyperventilate. He fell for it, believing for a moment that Kimberly-Clarke in all its wisdom had singled him out to have The Talk with his daughter, and wondering desperately how to get out of it. What a glorious day!

Was it cruel? Maybe a little. Unusual? Not for this family.

Well done, Girl-child.

 

Awakenings

This is my favorite time of year in the reptile department of my zoo. Spring is here, and that means one thing. When I come in on Wednesdays, I’m often greeted by sights like this:

(click on them to enlarge)

There are four babies hatching here. See them?

How about now?

 

In this box, we have two different subspecies of Madagascan spider tortoise; Pyxis arachnoides arachnoides and Pyxis arachnoides brygooi. I can tell the difference from here. I’ll show you how.

P.a. brygooi like to burrow. They hatch, they burrow. P. a. arachnoides hang around on top of the substrate.

These babies are all genetically pretty valuable, as both species are critically endangered in their native Madagascar. Any successful hatching is significant, but sometimes some offspring are even more valuable to the program.

There’s someone I want to you meet, but allow me just a moment to tell you its story. When animals are taken out of the wild and reproduce, that next generation of offspring is known as F1. It’s not unusual for animals to reproduce in captivity after being removed from the wild. Tortoises, rhinos, cheetah, elephants. The real trick is in getting an F2, that next generation, one that is truly captive bred. F1 and F2. Sounds like a series of astromech droids, doesn’t it?

Now allow me to introduce you to our very first F2 Common Spider Tortoise.

Sleeping in its egg.

A couple of days later, it emerged completely after having absorbed the last remaining bit of yolk. And lest we forget the gratuitous belly button shot:

It may take a few weeks for its umbilicus to disappear completely. Currently there are tiny wrinkles around its belly button where it is closing up.

 

It’s roughly the size of a quarter, the very first offspring of both parents. There are very few, if any, other F2 of this type anywhere in the world. I am so proud of my zoo and their dedicated staff for what they have done to perpetuate this species! Well done, Michael!

 

Buy Me This.

I am guest-posting over at Angie’s place today. You know? Childhood Relived? You get to live a piece of my childhood. Not the part where I ate the paste in kindergarten. The good part. You know, toys? Although the paste was pretty good, too. Wait. Have I said too much?

Anyway, come and read over at Angie’s. Just click here:

Toy Tuesday: Of Mice and Mighty Men.

And then head over to Ebay and buy that toy for me. Anyone? Anyone? Fine. I’ll buy it myself.

 

I Hereby Call This Meeting to Order!

Come into my secret clubhouse!  Okay, I know it’s just a sheet draped over a couple of kitchen chairs, but it’s a 700 thread count. Only the best for you! But don’t get Oreo crumbs all over the place because my mom will kill me!

You want to be in my club? It’s a book club. You know what the best part is? You don’t have to read anything. Because you already did! Is that cool or what? Consider yourself cordially invited to the From the Bowels of Obscurity Children’s Book Club.

My pal sj and I were talking the other day about some of our favorite reads as kids. That no one living seems ever to have heard of. We compared notes.

My elementary school library had a tiny budget and didn’t get in a lot of new books, so the shelves were bursting with titles that these days rank fewer than 20 ratings on Goodreads.  As a voracious reader too young to drive herself to the public library, I consumed most of them. And I liked it fine. It never occurred to me that the things I was reading were not on every kid’s book shelf. My books were my friends.

And since you’re my friend, too, I thought I could introduce you guys. Here’s where the club part comes in. sj and I are going to co-host it. I’ll do a post one week, and then she’ll do one the following week.

Here’s how you play if you want to.

Write a post about a few books you loved as a kid that are kind of obscure. How obscure is up to you. If you loved Nancy Drew and there was a title in the series you adored that no one you know has ever heard of, count it! Love a book that was written by your next door neighbor on construction paper? Tell us about it! Try to limit yourself to 1-4 books per post. We don’t want the club to fizzle out too soon, right?

Age range is flexible. From story books to teen, whatever you loved before you were old enough to vote counts.

Get personal. If straight reviews are your thing, go for it. Even better, though, is sharing what the book actually meant to you. Why did you love it? Do you remember the first time you read it or how you found it in the first place? Did you leave a Doritos smudge on the page of a favorite you borrowed from the library? I suffer from incurable nosiness, and I love those kinds of stories!

Add a trackback to the host post for the week. If you’re new to WordPress, that may sound complicated. It’s not. All you have to do is include a link to the host post somewhere in your post. Then the link to yours will appear in a neat little list of links at the bottom of the host post, and we can all find one another’s posts.

Participate at your own pace. Life got you too busy next week? Feel free to jump in any time. You’ll be able to find trackbacks to the latest post at the bottom of this one. And if you don’t want to do an entire blog post, share your obscure favorites in the comments section.

Read the posts of the other participants. You never know what treasure you’ll find!

If you’re on Goodreads, why not rate the book over there? You don’t have to review it, but if you loved it, throw it some stars! Who knows? Maybe you’ll get a buzz going and bring new life to your old favorite!

That’s all there is to it. You are free to read any book that piques your curiosity, but you don’t have to. And you can even blog about your discovery. But you don’t have to. The real name of the game here is sharing. Because sharing is nice. Except when it’s my MoonPies. Hands off.

 

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Ode to Joy

Joy is the mountains on the first warm weekend of the year.

Mountain stream, how I’ve missed you!

Joy is a big sister who is happy to piggy back you when you get too tired.

Love my sis

Joy is when she RUNS!

WHEEEEE!

Good morning. What brings you joy today?