Peaceful Sunday Morning

The view from my bedroom window, about 10 minutes ago.

Isn't he lovely?

Please welcome the newest member of the family!



We have adopted a 2004 Mini Cooper S!!



His name is Baby.

Well, what else would you expect Miniature Rose to drive?

It's good to be back in my own ecosystem

Last week, a mere 28 months after my husband was medically evacuated from Iraq in order to figure out why he's been so sick, he was seen by the specialists at the Deployment Health Clinical Center at Walter Reed.

Better late than never, eh?

We still have no clear answers, but I firmly believe that we are one step closer to figuring it all out. The MD on the assessment team is probably the smartest guy at Walter Reed, and a decent human being to boot. His assessment was thorough and thoughtful. I could almost see the gears in his head turning as he tried to put the puzzle pieces together.

The one thing that he did not do - and this is a significant departure from our previous experiences at the major medical facility that my husband calls "the abattoir" - was to diminish or deny Steve's symptoms. He believed that Steve is sick, and believed that he wants to get better. Believe me, my friends - it makes all the difference in the world.

This was our first visit to Walter Reed since the Washington Post blew the whistle on the horrendous conditions there last year. I am pleased to report that, overall, there seems to be a change in the tone and atmosphere of the place. Maybe the $800,000 spent on pixie dust was worth it, after all.

A sea of smiling faces

Silver Spring, Maryland, June 2008

Effective ad placement, for a very captive audience

I was amused to see this poster on the wall of the women's bathroom at the Deployment Health Clinical Center at Walter Reed.

Someone has a sense of humour!

Guardian of the grass

For the first time that I can recall, the field across the road has been cut down. Chocolate the WunderMutt has been staring intently at the newly cut horizon. I wonder what she sees.

Perfect. Just perfect.

This morning, as I was cleaning the litter boxes, my elderly cat made his way down the stairs. He sniffed and poked at each newly cleaned litter box, then proceeded to pee on the floor less than six inches from my foot.

It was the perfect, graphic summation of the past two weeks that I have spent in renovation hell.

What the @#$% is up with home improvement specialists, anyway?

Why have I just paid people, at a rate of twice my hourly RN salary, to walk all over me?

Why is it that, after being held hostage in my own home, waiting for these people to deign to make an appearance, I just smile and offer them a cup of coffee? Coffee which I can no longer drink because I'm pretty sure that I've just developed an ulcer? An ulcer that I don't have time to properly address because, as previously noted, I've been paying through the nose for the privilege of being held prisoner in my own home?

Come to think of it, my cat's demonstration of symbolism was a little on the subtle side.

End rant.

Why don't they just get some sheep?

I've never been to Canton, Ohio, but I'm sure it's almost heaven. They clearly have eradicated all forms of violent crime, because they have turned their focus to shaggy, unkempt lawns.

That's right, citizen. Letting your grass grow beyond eight inches is a fourth degree misdemeanor. The second offense can bring a $250 fine and 30 days in jail.

Just, wow.

The city says it is spending over $200,000 each year to deal with the derelict lawns. I'm no genius, but it seems to me that this "problem" could be turned into a money maker if the city invested in a small flock of self-propelled, automatic fertizing mowers aka sheep. Their wool could be auctioned off each year to manic knitters like me.

I know, my utopion vision is a little crazy, but I don't think it's as insane as this incarceration nation that we've become.

Awesome!

Mr. Sulu can finally get married.

The statement on his official blog is poetic, poignant, and profound.

Live long and prosper.

Mission Accomplished

For years, I've been saying that I'd visit Ottawa in May, to see its famed Tulip Festival. For years, life has gotten in the way. Today, we finally made it.



We were also fortunate enough to meet the man who takes care of the feral cats of Parliament Hill. The elderly gentleman says he has been feeding these cats every day for the past twelve years. If only politicians could be so dedicated to the welfare of their constituents.

The sweetness of spring

The lilacs are ridiculously lush this year. I spent the vast majority of the day yesterday, working in my veggie garden and getting high off of the fragrance of the lilacs. Lilac day is officially here. Stop whatever you are doing, and revel in the beauty of spring.


This is the first year that this flowering shrub has bloomed. Is it cherry? Apple? I have no idea. I didn't put it there, but I thank the bird who did!

I'm not exactly sure what this is, either. Time to consult some botany texts, eh?


I think this is honeysuckle. Seriously, I need a botany text.

This oriole was singing his little heart out while I was taking pictures of the flowering shrubs.

He makes me happy. We shall call him Sam.

My Mother's Garden

Tranquility is for the birds

There is great beauty to be found at the Perch Lake Reserve these days.



The goslings have already made their debut.


Mr. and Mrs. Mallard await the arrival of their progeny.


We watched this swan working on her nest.



There are at least twenty swans on the lake right now.




We are awed by their beauty.

This does nothing to quell my technolust. I've been havering for a DSLR camera, but am paralyzed by the number of choices right now. (Poor moi!) On days like this, it takes a great deal of restraint to not cash out my floundering 401K, buy the biggest, baddest DSLR on the market, and beg National Geographic for a job.

Another walk in the woods

Today, the Eagle-Eyed Scientist and I hiked at Southwick Beach State Park. We saw several orioles, but they were too quick for me to get a good picture.



It looks as though this pair of geese has staked out their territory.


I love these little woodland violets.


The forest floor was blanketed with trilliums - mostly white trilliums, but a few had tinges of pink.


The mystery of the day: How did this mammalian pelvis end up beside the trail? We think it belonged to a deer, but where did the rest of it go?

It's creepy and beautiful at the same time. As a bonus, the Eagle-Eyed Scientist was able to see the socket part of a ball-and-socket joint.

Mot du jour: porc-épic

My son and I took another glorious hike at Wellesley Island State Park today. While we were stopped to observe this little fellow:


another group of hikers came along the trial. It turns out, they're from France! We learned that the French word from porcupine is porc-épic.

My little Eagle-Eyed Scout, as he now calls himself, spotted this Pileated Woodpecker, much to my delight.



I probably would have missed the Pileated Woodpecker altogether, as I was focussed on this pair of Canada Geese.




The Eagle-Eyed Scout was particularly interested in the work of the beavers. Those little rodents have been, well, busy! We saw many chewed-down trunks, and when we finally came upon their dam, it was apparent that it was a masterful piece of engineering.



Mother Nature presents her beauty in the smallest of things.





Happy Spring!

Non-sequitor of the day

Observed in the parking lot of the Commissary at Fort Drum this morning:

A big black SUV with one of those Christian Fish symbols.

(Okay, that's completely normal around here.)

Above the fish was one of those nasty stickers of the little boy peeing on a number. In this case, I believe it was #24, whoever that is.

I'm no longer a devout or even a practicing Catholic, but I'm pretty sure that Jesus wouldn't like those contemporary mannikin pis stickers.

Let us give thanks to the God of Tea

Tea.
Earl Grey.
Hot.

Now I'm actually looking forward to my next night shift.

I'll leave the title of this post to your imagination

I spend an inordinate amount of time dealing with other people's poop.

That's not a metaphor. Most of my patients take heavy-duty narcotics like OxyContin and Percocet, which can cause constipation. This, in turn, not only causes grumpiness and added discomfort, but can lead to paralytic ileus if not caught in time. The physician overseeing our patients' care is extraordinarily attentive to the state of the everyone's bowels, and it is best to be on top of the shituation when she makes her rounds. Failure to have this information at one's fingertips can cause certain substances to hit the fan. Therefore, I don't take poop for granted.

What I have taken for granted, is that everyone has a safe and hygienic place to take care of business. This morning, on BoingBoing, I read about an initiative to bring what I believe is a fundamental human right and necessity to the low-caste girls studying at the Pardada Pardadi School, in Uttar Pradesh, India. A small amount of money will make a huge difference in the lives of these girls. I hope you will check this out!

On the trail today

As always, the bullfrogs are plentiful.


This Mallard attempted to remain inconspicuous.


As did this Momma Robin.


By the time we passed this spot on the trail again, Momma Robin had flown the nest.

Have you ever noticed ...

the artistry found within the mundane?

I was struck by the beauty of this head of red cabbage.

Strange, isn't it?


(What? Were you actually expecting profound thoughts on this gorgeous day?)

Victory!

Sanity has triumphed in Ontario. As of today, fascist Homeowner Associations can no longer ban outdoor clotheslines! To celebrate this veto, Toronto Hydro will be giving away 75,000 retractable indoor/outdoor clotheslines over the next few weeks.

Well done, Ontario! Let your freshly laundered freak flags fly!

GSD day 2 - Gardening

Today's efforts were muted, as I am working tonight.

Ridiculously large and exuberant pansies were planted amongst the tulips. This required a great deal of weeding. As a bonus, we incorporated a science lesson into this activity: earthworms and the definition of a hermaphrodite.


I started my tomato and cucumber plants. It will be several weeks before they can be put into the garden.


Several of the raised beds were weeded and aerated. Next week I'll take a gamble and plant a packet of mesclun mix lettuce seeds.

I suspect that my muscles will be screeching at me later on tonight. Ah well!

GSD week

Inspired by Redneck Mother, I've been making a concerted effort to Get Stuff Done. Here's one such project:



Twisted Tales, or When Four Cats Meet.

Posted for my Sister-In-Law, the Engineer

An Engineer's Guide to Cats.



I'm not an engineer, but I am that weird woman with three cats.

Across the pond, they've taken notice

The lead story in Sunday's online edition of the London Daily Mail is a sharp rebuke of the way the UK honours its fallen soldiers upon their repatriation from Afghanistan. The article lauds Canada for the way it honours her fallen. Both the government and the ordinary citizens of my home and native land do it with class. It should be noted that 82 Canadian soldiers have died in Afghanistan in the past six years.

Meanwhile, nineteen American soldiers have been killed in Iraq in the past six days. Can you hear the crickets chirping? South of the 49th parallel, the fixation has been on what is being reflected in a certain chickenhawk's sunglasses. It's rather like a national Rorschach test, isn't it? Personally, I see a hand holding the neck of a fiddle, with flames dancing in the background.