Yesterday when I was working at our studio, I went to use the ladies' room.
Twenty minutes later, I went to use the ladies' room again. I'm pregnant. This is what happens.
Except this time, there was a mouse in the middle of the floor, blocking me from getting to the stalls, without having to actually step over it.
Which is weird, right? Because normally mice run away.
And I promise you, I let out a sound when I saw it. (I'd like to say a feminine scream but it was more of a manly grunt... possibly an indication that I'm having a boy?) It still didn't move.
So I took a picture of it to send to Murray.
And then I ventured even CLOSER to see if it was breathing. And it WAS!!
So why was it just sitting in the middle of the floor like that, all slumbery?
I went back to the studio and checked our mouse poison. When we first moved in here, there was some evidence of mice, so naturally I bought mouse poison. The bags of mouse poison have remained in tact ever since and we've seen no further evidence of mice.
This time, there was a hole in one of the packs of mouse poison. Which would explain why the mouse was just sitting there.
So then about 20 minutes later, curiosity (and thirst) got the better of me. I went to the drinking fountain outside the bathrooms and I went into the bathroom again to peek. The mouse was no longer in the middle of the floor. I looked around, and found it a few feet away, around the corner by a trash can. Still the same position. Still breathing.
Then about 2 hours later I went to check on the little victim again. It was about another foot away from where it previously was, and its legs were splayed out in behind it and it was most obviously not breathing.
And I cannot help but feel guilty that I left the tiny (and let's face it - cute!) little creature to internally hemorrhage to death! AND that I didn't have the guts to just put it out of its misery when I first found it. AND that I just left its little corpse lying there instead of disposing it. And probably a sweet little church lady is going to find it (because a church also shares our office building).
(At least I can use the pregnancy and protecting my unborn child from unknown diseases as an excuse for not getting near it.)
Showing posts with label squirrel curse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label squirrel curse. Show all posts
Take THAT, Resumé!
This is just an aside---a momentary break from constantly posting pictures of Gulliver potentially getting in trouble.
So apparently when I was in Chicago, Dr. Rice was in Chicago, too. And we didn't even know it. And I'm so mad I could spit. In fact, I could have spat on her, since she was touring around on an evening architectural boat tour, while I was wandering around the city, crossing the bridges, and spitting on the boat tours below.
But enough about that. Dr. Rice teaches at Georgetown University. So I was mentioning to her that we will probably be teaching our classes in DC in the fall and I needed to start looking in to getting a few hotel conference rooms. At which point she said that she could get us free rooms at Georgetown.
So question: Does that mean that afterward, I can add "Taught classes at Georgetown University" to my resume?
My Dream
A few things that you should know before you read about my dream:
* The Boy has a new home in a nice new complex.
* Murray and I looked at a house the other day that has a stand-up shower in the master bedroom.
* Murray and I were at the Gateway recently and I was watching people bravely walk through the fountain in the middle of winter.
* I still have GDS and last night was Murray's work's Christmas party and even though I ate most of my dessert I still didn't spike my blood sugar because I am all kinds of awesome.
* I did laundry all day yesterday and finally laundered a turquoise maternity top with 3/4 length sleeves that I have been looking forward to wearing.
* Murray and I recently bought a fake rubber leech to give to my grandpa for Christmas because it's pretty much exactly what he'd want to find in his stocking.
Okay. That's about all I can account for. Here goes:
I was over at The Boy's house and I looked in his master bathroom, and he had a deluxe standing-only shower, but it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Not only did water come down from above, but there were jets placed around the base of the shower that shot water up from below, yielding the most deluxe luxury shower I've ever seen. I decided I wanted to try out his shower. But all of a sudden, the shower wasn't in his master bedroom. It was in the middle of his condo area. So I was disappointed that to enjoy the most deluxe luxury shower ever, I'd have to wear a bathing suit. But I was wearing a bathing suit and it was the greatest bathing suit I had ever seen! It was very retro and it was turquoise and it went really low on the hips and had a frilly skirt attached to it and it was one-piece and it actually fit my bust (which no other bathing suit has managed to do since puberty) and it looked darling, except that I hated that it had 3/4 length sleeves. I really wished it had no sleeves at all.
I don't remember experiencing the shower itself, actually. I think that by the time I was ready for it, the shower itself was closed. It was replaced by a large glass dome (about 5 feet tall and 10 feet in circumference) on which thousands of gourmet chocolates were artistically arranged. And so I started eating chocolates, avoiding the ones on the top of the dome, which had started to melt and had bird poop on them. And I ate my fill of chocolates.
But then I realized that I had to get home and the fastest way to get there was to run through a swampy field. So I ran through a swampy field barefoot, and when I got out of the field I thought that was dumb because it was probably full of leeches, and sure enough, there was a leech that was attached to my toe, so I had to get salt. So I went into the vacation home that my family was renting and El Senor and Reggie were in the kitchen and I asked them to give me the salt and they did, and it was a plastic, greasy salt grinder and I ground salt onto the leech and killed it.
THE END
Anyone care to interpret?
* The Boy has a new home in a nice new complex.
* Murray and I looked at a house the other day that has a stand-up shower in the master bedroom.
* Murray and I were at the Gateway recently and I was watching people bravely walk through the fountain in the middle of winter.
* I still have GDS and last night was Murray's work's Christmas party and even though I ate most of my dessert I still didn't spike my blood sugar because I am all kinds of awesome.
* I did laundry all day yesterday and finally laundered a turquoise maternity top with 3/4 length sleeves that I have been looking forward to wearing.
* Murray and I recently bought a fake rubber leech to give to my grandpa for Christmas because it's pretty much exactly what he'd want to find in his stocking.
Okay. That's about all I can account for. Here goes:
I was over at The Boy's house and I looked in his master bathroom, and he had a deluxe standing-only shower, but it was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Not only did water come down from above, but there were jets placed around the base of the shower that shot water up from below, yielding the most deluxe luxury shower I've ever seen. I decided I wanted to try out his shower. But all of a sudden, the shower wasn't in his master bedroom. It was in the middle of his condo area. So I was disappointed that to enjoy the most deluxe luxury shower ever, I'd have to wear a bathing suit. But I was wearing a bathing suit and it was the greatest bathing suit I had ever seen! It was very retro and it was turquoise and it went really low on the hips and had a frilly skirt attached to it and it was one-piece and it actually fit my bust (which no other bathing suit has managed to do since puberty) and it looked darling, except that I hated that it had 3/4 length sleeves. I really wished it had no sleeves at all.
I don't remember experiencing the shower itself, actually. I think that by the time I was ready for it, the shower itself was closed. It was replaced by a large glass dome (about 5 feet tall and 10 feet in circumference) on which thousands of gourmet chocolates were artistically arranged. And so I started eating chocolates, avoiding the ones on the top of the dome, which had started to melt and had bird poop on them. And I ate my fill of chocolates.
But then I realized that I had to get home and the fastest way to get there was to run through a swampy field. So I ran through a swampy field barefoot, and when I got out of the field I thought that was dumb because it was probably full of leeches, and sure enough, there was a leech that was attached to my toe, so I had to get salt. So I went into the vacation home that my family was renting and El Senor and Reggie were in the kitchen and I asked them to give me the salt and they did, and it was a plastic, greasy salt grinder and I ground salt onto the leech and killed it.
THE END
Anyone care to interpret?
My Day
Here's what I was supposed to do today:
-Hear baby's heartbeat
-Do laundry
-Pack
-Clean
Here's what I did:
-Do not hear baby's heartbeat, despite goo. Suspect my protective layer of fat of soundproofing my uterus.
-Get an ambush pap smear.
-Go to lunch with Murray.
-Break permanent retainer. For the THIRD TIME this year.
-Call dentist but no one answers. Leave message.
-Call Canadian orthodontist because I'm going there anyway. Set up an appointment for Monday at 9:30.
-Receive call back from orthodontist's office saying that my orthodontist wouldn't do anything better than the dentists here, so she suggests getting it done by a dentist here. (Then why has the retainer broken THREE TIMES in the past year??)
-Reward myself with gelato because of the pap smear.
-Go back to my car.
-Get ticket for not having correct registration sticker.
-Go to DMV to get new registration sticker.
-Go to courthouse to contest ticket (I was parked half a block away from the DMV... so I told them that I was ticketed while getting my sticker...)
-Got a dismissed ticket.
-Call dentist again. Goes straight to voice mail.
-Call emergency dental hotline, which is dentist's own cell phone. Leave a message.
-Drive to dentist's office to demand service in person. It's been closed all day.
-Go to neighbor dentist and say, "I need someone to cement this NOW."
-Pay less at new dentist than I have at previous dentists...
-Drive home, only to realize that I forgot to check us in at Southwest two hours ago because I wasn't home, except that I was SUPPOSED to be home.
-Go to computer and STILL manage to get us A passes. 45 and 46. Not so bad.
So that's my day. And now I have to try to do some laundry and run to Walmart to get ingredients to do chocolate fondue for cooking club tonight. So much for packing and cleaning. I'm glad that we don't have to leave for the airport until 1:00 tomorrow.
-Hear baby's heartbeat
-Do laundry
-Pack
-Clean
Here's what I did:
-Do not hear baby's heartbeat, despite goo. Suspect my protective layer of fat of soundproofing my uterus.
-Get an ambush pap smear.
-Go to lunch with Murray.
-Break permanent retainer. For the THIRD TIME this year.
-Call dentist but no one answers. Leave message.
-Call Canadian orthodontist because I'm going there anyway. Set up an appointment for Monday at 9:30.
-Receive call back from orthodontist's office saying that my orthodontist wouldn't do anything better than the dentists here, so she suggests getting it done by a dentist here. (Then why has the retainer broken THREE TIMES in the past year??)
-Reward myself with gelato because of the pap smear.
-Go back to my car.
-Get ticket for not having correct registration sticker.
-Go to DMV to get new registration sticker.
-Go to courthouse to contest ticket (I was parked half a block away from the DMV... so I told them that I was ticketed while getting my sticker...)
-Got a dismissed ticket.
-Call dentist again. Goes straight to voice mail.
-Call emergency dental hotline, which is dentist's own cell phone. Leave a message.
-Drive to dentist's office to demand service in person. It's been closed all day.
-Go to neighbor dentist and say, "I need someone to cement this NOW."
-Pay less at new dentist than I have at previous dentists...
-Drive home, only to realize that I forgot to check us in at Southwest two hours ago because I wasn't home, except that I was SUPPOSED to be home.
-Go to computer and STILL manage to get us A passes. 45 and 46. Not so bad.
So that's my day. And now I have to try to do some laundry and run to Walmart to get ingredients to do chocolate fondue for cooking club tonight. So much for packing and cleaning. I'm glad that we don't have to leave for the airport until 1:00 tomorrow.
Remember my wedding?
Here's a video of the Dear Abby song sung at my wedding breakfast. Murray just loaded it up today.
Dear Abby
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
My life ain't so great.
I've come out of college with barely a date.
I had a great future worked out in my head.
But now I live with my brother instead.
Signed,
Old Spinster
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I live all alone.
I bought me a car, and I bought me a home.
I've spent many years to build me this nest,
But now all I need is a bird to come rest.
Signed,
Bird Watcher
(girls and boys together)
Old Spinster, Bird Watcher,
You have no complaint.
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't.
So listen up Spinster, and Bird Watcher too:
Be patient. One day all your dreams will come true.
Signed,
Dear Abby.
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I give up on love.
My family's been praying for help from above.
I edit and bike and I work on my blog.
I'm busy, successful, and have a great job.
Signed,
Still Patient
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I have to work fast.
I often am told that my best years are past.
I go to church with the singles but don't have a doubt
That when I turn thirty they're kicking me out.
Signed,
Dejected
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
Oh, what's apropos
When you've fallen in love with a girl you don't know?
I read all her stories and she sounds so sweet.
This is surely a girl that I'd like to meet.
Signed,
Web Lurker
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I never could see
That Internet dating was in store for me.
I googled his records and he came up clean.
So with friends in tow we ate Indian cuisine.
Signed,
Optimistic
(boys and girls together)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
The time has been short.
It's just been six months since we started to court.
Today we will marry--to the temple we'll go.
Our future together will be great, we know.
Signed,
Just Married
Dear Abby
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
My life ain't so great.
I've come out of college with barely a date.
I had a great future worked out in my head.
But now I live with my brother instead.
Signed,
Old Spinster
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I live all alone.
I bought me a car, and I bought me a home.
I've spent many years to build me this nest,
But now all I need is a bird to come rest.
Signed,
Bird Watcher
(girls and boys together)
Old Spinster, Bird Watcher,
You have no complaint.
You are what you are and you ain't what you ain't.
So listen up Spinster, and Bird Watcher too:
Be patient. One day all your dreams will come true.
Signed,
Dear Abby.
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I give up on love.
My family's been praying for help from above.
I edit and bike and I work on my blog.
I'm busy, successful, and have a great job.
Signed,
Still Patient
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I have to work fast.
I often am told that my best years are past.
I go to church with the singles but don't have a doubt
That when I turn thirty they're kicking me out.
Signed,
Dejected
(boys)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
Oh, what's apropos
When you've fallen in love with a girl you don't know?
I read all her stories and she sounds so sweet.
This is surely a girl that I'd like to meet.
Signed,
Web Lurker
(girls)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
I never could see
That Internet dating was in store for me.
I googled his records and he came up clean.
So with friends in tow we ate Indian cuisine.
Signed,
Optimistic
(boys and girls together)
Dear Abby, Dear Abby,
The time has been short.
It's just been six months since we started to court.
Today we will marry--to the temple we'll go.
Our future together will be great, we know.
Signed,
Just Married
To Catch a Thief
On Saturday Murray and I headed to Park City to see if we could see any celebrities. Well, also to go through the different galleries. Anyway, we saw Nicki Hilton, which I could really care less about. Two years ago, Murray met Steven Colbert. That's more of what I'd be interested in.
Parking was impossible. It took us about two hours to finally find a spot. Then we had to wait for a shuttle to take us to Main Street. Getting onto the crowded shuttle bus reminded me a lot of Italy, so I instinctively zipped my purse shut and explained to Murray that Italy forced me to develop some pretty good anti-theft skills. He asked if someone would grab your purse/wallet/belonging and then go into a crowd of people. I said no, that generally it happens while you're already in a crowd of people. And the thief doesn't go anywhere---s/he just stays right there. And then when you realize something's happened, and you say something, then everyone in the crowd, including the thief, just stares at you.
At this point, Murray said that he believes that because of human nature, someone in the crowd would say, "The thief must be among us! Let's work together to figure it out!" And then I laughed in his face. I really hope to live to see the day when Murray pipes up in a crowd of people, "The thief must be among us! Let's work together to figure it out!!"
Speaking of thieves. And ghosts. I'm afraid of thieves. Murray's afraid of ghosts. And when we got back from Park City, we saw a pound of bacon sitting on our kitchen counter. This was the good stuff, too. I'd had it in the freezer. Yet there it sat on the kitchen counter. Thawed. I asked Murray about it. He said that he'd found it there that morning and it was frozen solid. He wondered why I'd taken it out of the freezer, but just left it there because I must have had something in mind.
The thing is, I never went into the kitchen that morning. The night before, Murray's brother Steve and his fiancée Moleste were over. I thought maybe one of them had pulled it out when they were looking for ice cubes, but Murray and I talked it through and remembered that we all drank bottled water straight from the bottles. Besides, if it was frozen solid in the morning, it couldn't have been taken out the night before.
It really was awful trying to figure it out. In fact, it had been a long day, and so I finally said to Murray that I didn't want to talk about it anymore. And yet, I couldn't let it go. So I opened the freezer, hoping that something inside would trigger our memory of what had happened, and so we didn't have to concede that it was either thieves or ghosts. (The thieves didn't take anything valuable and the house is too new to be haunted, so both were unlikely options.)
Then Murray spotted the medium format film in the freezer and suddenly the memory started coming back to him. He was checking out our stock of film in the morning, and had to remove the bacon to see it better. Then he shut the freezer door, saw the bacon on the counter, poked it to find it frozen solid, and wondered why I had taken the bacon out of the freezer.
Who needs ghosts or thieves when you can rob and haunt yourself?
Parking was impossible. It took us about two hours to finally find a spot. Then we had to wait for a shuttle to take us to Main Street. Getting onto the crowded shuttle bus reminded me a lot of Italy, so I instinctively zipped my purse shut and explained to Murray that Italy forced me to develop some pretty good anti-theft skills. He asked if someone would grab your purse/wallet/belonging and then go into a crowd of people. I said no, that generally it happens while you're already in a crowd of people. And the thief doesn't go anywhere---s/he just stays right there. And then when you realize something's happened, and you say something, then everyone in the crowd, including the thief, just stares at you.
At this point, Murray said that he believes that because of human nature, someone in the crowd would say, "The thief must be among us! Let's work together to figure it out!" And then I laughed in his face. I really hope to live to see the day when Murray pipes up in a crowd of people, "The thief must be among us! Let's work together to figure it out!!"
Speaking of thieves. And ghosts. I'm afraid of thieves. Murray's afraid of ghosts. And when we got back from Park City, we saw a pound of bacon sitting on our kitchen counter. This was the good stuff, too. I'd had it in the freezer. Yet there it sat on the kitchen counter. Thawed. I asked Murray about it. He said that he'd found it there that morning and it was frozen solid. He wondered why I'd taken it out of the freezer, but just left it there because I must have had something in mind.
The thing is, I never went into the kitchen that morning. The night before, Murray's brother Steve and his fiancée Moleste were over. I thought maybe one of them had pulled it out when they were looking for ice cubes, but Murray and I talked it through and remembered that we all drank bottled water straight from the bottles. Besides, if it was frozen solid in the morning, it couldn't have been taken out the night before.
It really was awful trying to figure it out. In fact, it had been a long day, and so I finally said to Murray that I didn't want to talk about it anymore. And yet, I couldn't let it go. So I opened the freezer, hoping that something inside would trigger our memory of what had happened, and so we didn't have to concede that it was either thieves or ghosts. (The thieves didn't take anything valuable and the house is too new to be haunted, so both were unlikely options.)
Then Murray spotted the medium format film in the freezer and suddenly the memory started coming back to him. He was checking out our stock of film in the morning, and had to remove the bacon to see it better. Then he shut the freezer door, saw the bacon on the counter, poked it to find it frozen solid, and wondered why I had taken the bacon out of the freezer.
Who needs ghosts or thieves when you can rob and haunt yourself?
All I want for Christmas is to be a size 8 again.
But that's clearly not going to happen. Corporate America is keeping me down. Please look at all the pictures of the food that's around our office right now. (Please note: It's less than there was this morning... people [including me] have squirreled away MANY items to keep in their office or bring home and share with their families. The food's gotta go somewhere [my ass].)
The Honeymoon
CONFESSION: We didn't take a single picture the whole time. It was just so nice to be able to relax and not worry about documenting the whole thing, but just to enjoy it. But we did do a zip line canopy tour, and they took our picture and then charged us our firstborn son for it, so we figured what the heck---anything for a picture of our honeymoon. Of course, I don't know where those pictures are right now and I don't know how to scan them in anyway, so I'll just share with you photos of where we stayed that were taken by other people. (And don't forget the illustrations that are on Murray's blog.)
We went to Costa Rica because Murray's generous boss offered his condo for us to stay in, and really, there's no reason to say no to that! The trip to San José took a while, and I was excited to finally be there, but was not really prepared for the 2-hour car ride to where we were staying. Our taxi driver was so capable of handling the whole thing that we decided not to rent a car at all while we were there, but to allow others to do our driving.
The condo is located in a very small community that had two restaurants, a "convenience store" type market, and a discotheque. The cab driver made sure to point out the discotheque several times. Murray and I. We look like ones who love the disco for sure.
Upon arriving, we unpacked our bags and headed down to the Low Tide Lounge, the restaurant that was recommended to us, for some fish tacos. The restaurant is right on the beach, so we were able to watch the waves and enjoy our food. There are no walls or doors to the restaurant---it's all completely open. And one thing that really surprised us was that dogs and cats just park themselves at your table and beg while you're eating. In fact, when I leaned forward on my chair, a cat even hopped up onto the back of my chair to get a little closer to the food. While we were eating, it started to rain, and there were even drops coming through the thatched roof and hitting Murray and me and our food. The whole experience was charming, and the food was great.
The first and second days we just concentrated on enjoying our surroundings---walks on the beach, more food and pina coladas, bird watching, etc. And then the third day we decided to venture into the nearby tourism-based city. It was nice to have no plans and be able to just play things by ear. It was a nice change of pace after the wedding.
In Jacò, the nearby city, we wandered around shops, booked a snorkeling tour and a canopy tour, and enjoyed a nice restaurant. The cab driver who had taken us into the city (in our own personal van/minibus) had given us his phone number to call when we were through. When I called, a woman answered the phone. The conversation went like this:
Woman: Hola?
Cicada: Hola? Taxi?
Woman: No.
Cicada: No? Taxi?
Woman: Necessitas taxi?
Cicada: Si?
Woman: Donde?
Cicada: Jacò? Esterillos Oueste?
Woman: A Esterillos Oueste?
Cicada: No... Da Jacò a Esterillos Oueste? (Using Italian prepositions... not sure if they translate...)
Woman: Oh, ja, a Jacò. Donde?
Cicada: Mas por Menos? (The store we were standing outside of.)
Woman: Okay. Yo vengo.
After this conversation, I turned to Murray and said, "I called the number... but a woman answered... and I don't know if we just called our taxi driver or some random person who has decided that they can make some money by giving us a ride somewhere..."
When the taxi showed up, it was our original taxi driver and his wife. How sweet. And then they remained our loyal chauffeurs for the rest of our trip.
Snorkeling was not everything I imagined it would be. The boat ride to the snorkeling place was great, and it was just me and Murray and the captain of the boat, which was cool. And the ride alone was almost worth all the money we paid. Unfortunately, water conditions weren't ideal for snorkeling, so we only saw a couple of cool fish. Then pretty much everything went to pot when we realized that we were caught in the tide and try as we might we couldn't move from where we were swimming, unless we went closer to the rocky outcroppings where the waves were sure to beat us to death. We called the captain and his boat over to save us and cut our snorkeling trip a little short.
The canopy tour the next day was great, even though we didn't see any monkeys. While we were waiting for our personal chauffeurs to come and pick us up to go to the canopy tour, though, we saw two iguanas in a tree, and a little red squirrel that doesn't look like our local squirrels here. And earlier in the trip we'd seen wild parrots just flying by, so really, we can't complain too much. At the canopy tour, we joined about 25 other people. The tour consists of you getting completely geared up, then attached to a series of zip lines. The zip lines each lead to another platform and another zip line. And it was a lot of fun.
We only ventured into the ocean by the condo once during our honeymoon. I know, it seems like a waste, but there's something disconcerting about being the ONLY ones on the beach and the ONLY ones in the water, not to mention that these were the biggest waves I'd ever seen, and I just had visions of being swept out to see or drownded. But on our last day, there were a handful of others in the water---all surfing---so we grabbed a couple boogie boards and braved the water. That's the first time in my life that I've successfully ridden a wave all the way into shore, so I'm thrilled that I finally got over my fear. And there weren't any sharks. Phew.
The honeymoon, basically, was perfect. It was a great time to relax and enjoy each other's company and not have to talk about wedding plans. There were a couple times that I caught myself thinking, "I should have brought thank you cards because I could have done them on the plane!" and then I'd remember that the honeymoon was there so that we could escape from all obligations. And I think that we did a good job of that.
The condo.
The view from the condo.
More of the condo.
The beach.
View of the condo---it's the white building.
Lots of vultures were around.
We went to Costa Rica because Murray's generous boss offered his condo for us to stay in, and really, there's no reason to say no to that! The trip to San José took a while, and I was excited to finally be there, but was not really prepared for the 2-hour car ride to where we were staying. Our taxi driver was so capable of handling the whole thing that we decided not to rent a car at all while we were there, but to allow others to do our driving.
The condo is located in a very small community that had two restaurants, a "convenience store" type market, and a discotheque. The cab driver made sure to point out the discotheque several times. Murray and I. We look like ones who love the disco for sure.
Upon arriving, we unpacked our bags and headed down to the Low Tide Lounge, the restaurant that was recommended to us, for some fish tacos. The restaurant is right on the beach, so we were able to watch the waves and enjoy our food. There are no walls or doors to the restaurant---it's all completely open. And one thing that really surprised us was that dogs and cats just park themselves at your table and beg while you're eating. In fact, when I leaned forward on my chair, a cat even hopped up onto the back of my chair to get a little closer to the food. While we were eating, it started to rain, and there were even drops coming through the thatched roof and hitting Murray and me and our food. The whole experience was charming, and the food was great.
The first and second days we just concentrated on enjoying our surroundings---walks on the beach, more food and pina coladas, bird watching, etc. And then the third day we decided to venture into the nearby tourism-based city. It was nice to have no plans and be able to just play things by ear. It was a nice change of pace after the wedding.
In Jacò, the nearby city, we wandered around shops, booked a snorkeling tour and a canopy tour, and enjoyed a nice restaurant. The cab driver who had taken us into the city (in our own personal van/minibus) had given us his phone number to call when we were through. When I called, a woman answered the phone. The conversation went like this:
Woman: Hola?
Cicada: Hola? Taxi?
Woman: No.
Cicada: No? Taxi?
Woman: Necessitas taxi?
Cicada: Si?
Woman: Donde?
Cicada: Jacò? Esterillos Oueste?
Woman: A Esterillos Oueste?
Cicada: No... Da Jacò a Esterillos Oueste? (Using Italian prepositions... not sure if they translate...)
Woman: Oh, ja, a Jacò. Donde?
Cicada: Mas por Menos? (The store we were standing outside of.)
Woman: Okay. Yo vengo.
After this conversation, I turned to Murray and said, "I called the number... but a woman answered... and I don't know if we just called our taxi driver or some random person who has decided that they can make some money by giving us a ride somewhere..."
When the taxi showed up, it was our original taxi driver and his wife. How sweet. And then they remained our loyal chauffeurs for the rest of our trip.
Snorkeling was not everything I imagined it would be. The boat ride to the snorkeling place was great, and it was just me and Murray and the captain of the boat, which was cool. And the ride alone was almost worth all the money we paid. Unfortunately, water conditions weren't ideal for snorkeling, so we only saw a couple of cool fish. Then pretty much everything went to pot when we realized that we were caught in the tide and try as we might we couldn't move from where we were swimming, unless we went closer to the rocky outcroppings where the waves were sure to beat us to death. We called the captain and his boat over to save us and cut our snorkeling trip a little short.
The canopy tour the next day was great, even though we didn't see any monkeys. While we were waiting for our personal chauffeurs to come and pick us up to go to the canopy tour, though, we saw two iguanas in a tree, and a little red squirrel that doesn't look like our local squirrels here. And earlier in the trip we'd seen wild parrots just flying by, so really, we can't complain too much. At the canopy tour, we joined about 25 other people. The tour consists of you getting completely geared up, then attached to a series of zip lines. The zip lines each lead to another platform and another zip line. And it was a lot of fun.
We only ventured into the ocean by the condo once during our honeymoon. I know, it seems like a waste, but there's something disconcerting about being the ONLY ones on the beach and the ONLY ones in the water, not to mention that these were the biggest waves I'd ever seen, and I just had visions of being swept out to see or drownded. But on our last day, there were a handful of others in the water---all surfing---so we grabbed a couple boogie boards and braved the water. That's the first time in my life that I've successfully ridden a wave all the way into shore, so I'm thrilled that I finally got over my fear. And there weren't any sharks. Phew.
The honeymoon, basically, was perfect. It was a great time to relax and enjoy each other's company and not have to talk about wedding plans. There were a couple times that I caught myself thinking, "I should have brought thank you cards because I could have done them on the plane!" and then I'd remember that the honeymoon was there so that we could escape from all obligations. And I think that we did a good job of that.
The condo.
The view from the condo.
More of the condo.
The beach.
View of the condo---it's the white building.
Lots of vultures were around.Narwhal Co.
Dr. Rice is shamelessly plugging this new site today. Sample conversation:
Cicada: Hello, Dr. Rice. How are you today?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcompany.com
Cicada: Oh, that's good to hear. What did you do last night?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcompany.com
Cicada: Really? That's fantastic! Oh, I forgot to ask, do these shoes make my butt look big?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcompany.com
Cicada: I thought so.
I figured it was worth seeing what she was talking about. Just in time for the Christmas holidays comes this really cool new site that sells used tie fashion accessories. Wallets, iPod covers, iPhone covers, even manly bracelets that are sure to replace those liveSTRONG bracelet knock-offs as the latest trend. Top it all off with a cool line of t-shirts including this United States gem.
Include this site in your Christmas shopping and bask in your smug feelings of having bought handmade this year.
Cicada: Hello, Dr. Rice. How are you today?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcomp
Cicada: Oh, that's good to hear. What did you do last night?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcomp
Cicada: Really? That's fantastic! Oh, I forgot to ask, do these shoes make my butt look big?
Dr. Rice: www.narwhalcomp
Cicada: I thought so.
I figured it was worth seeing what she was talking about. Just in time for the Christmas holidays comes this really cool new site that sells used tie fashion accessories. Wallets, iPod covers, iPhone covers, even manly bracelets that are sure to replace those liveSTRONG bracelet knock-offs as the latest trend. Top it all off with a cool line of t-shirts including this United States gem.
Include this site in your Christmas shopping and bask in your smug feelings of having bought handmade this year.
Amber Alert
Yesterday Murray and I went to his house with a proud sense of accomplishment. We had just saved a ton of money by spending money. I love spending money to save money. Guess how much we saved. We saved $540. Guess how much we spent. We spent $180. Doesn't it feel good to spend to save?
Here's what we bought at Pier 1:
4 wicker patio chairs, originally $100 each, on sale for $25 each
8 place setting large plates, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting salad plates, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting bowls, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting mugs, originally $9 each, on sale for $2.20 each.
12 napkins, originally who knows, on sale for $0.50 each.
1 boxy thingy that goes in the middle of the table, originally $15, on sale for $3.
And you would think that nothing could kill that high. Nothing except the kidnapping of a child.
Or a door pumpkin.
To make Murray's place a little more homey, I put this fall arrangement outside his door a week and a half ago. It looked lovely and homey and autumny.
Last night, when we got there, we noticed that our orange pumpkin was missing.
Who would do such a thing? Random acts of pumpkin violence are not okay. I noticed that all the neighbors still had their outdoor harvest displays in tact. I also noticed that none of them managed to add a beautiful pumpkin to their displays, which leaves me to believe that it must be inside of one of their homes. Keeping up with the Joneses just got dirtier.
Tonight, I will lead a sting operation to reclaim what is rightfully ours.
Here's what we bought at Pier 1:
4 wicker patio chairs, originally $100 each, on sale for $25 each
8 place setting large plates, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting salad plates, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting bowls, originally $10 each, on sale for $2.50 each.
8 place setting mugs, originally $9 each, on sale for $2.20 each.
12 napkins, originally who knows, on sale for $0.50 each.
1 boxy thingy that goes in the middle of the table, originally $15, on sale for $3.
And you would think that nothing could kill that high. Nothing except the kidnapping of a child.
Or a door pumpkin.
To make Murray's place a little more homey, I put this fall arrangement outside his door a week and a half ago. It looked lovely and homey and autumny.
Last night, when we got there, we noticed that our orange pumpkin was missing.
Who would do such a thing? Random acts of pumpkin violence are not okay. I noticed that all the neighbors still had their outdoor harvest displays in tact. I also noticed that none of them managed to add a beautiful pumpkin to their displays, which leaves me to believe that it must be inside of one of their homes. Keeping up with the Joneses just got dirtier.
Tonight, I will lead a sting operation to reclaim what is rightfully ours.
I am dead people.
It all started about five years ago when Dr. Rice first went out to DC to get her PhD. I was in Maryland at the time waiting to go on my mission, so I was happy to have my good friend future-Dr. Rice come out to my side of the country. Soon after she moved to DC, we planned a day to get together. There's so much to do in that area---my parents live between Baltimore and DC. It's close to Annapolis. There really is no shortage of things to do.
So when we asked my mom for a recommendation, she suggested we take a day to visit Historic Ellicott City, a beautiful old city nearby. So we went. And we soon discovered that Ellicott City was simply a city full of nothing but antique shops. It didn't take us long to get tired of that. On the whole, it was a pretty lame experience. So we went home, and that was possibly the day we also went squirrel fishing. I can't quite remember.
The thing is, while we were antique shopping, we found a collection of antique hats. And we tried them on. And we took our pictures in the antique hats. And I brought the pictures with me on my mission.
So fast forward to present time. Since that trip five years ago, Historic Ellicott City has become a joke between me and Dr. Rice. Any time we're together and there's some question about what we might do for fun, we bring up the possibility of taking a trip to Historic Ellicott City and seeing the antique shops.
Today I stopped in at an antique dealer on my way to Murray's house. I'm in the market for a good antique chair right now (to put in the corner of our guest room, and I promise to post a picture when we find one and I reupholster it, but that won't be until after we're married). As I walked through the aisles of overpriced junk, I came upon some antique hats. You might think that the hat experience wouldn't be quite as fun without Dr. Rice, but as I tried on hats and took my picture with them, I imagined all the fun I would have sending the pictures to Dr. Rice.
And I even thought about the blog post I would write about the whole thing. I mean, I even found a hat made from---I swear---squirrel tails. Which is so important to me and Dr. Rice since Dr. Rice has been cursed squirrel-wise ever since we went squirrel fishing. So, like I said, I had my own private photo shoot, which was very enjoyable.
When I got to Murray's, I told him about my experience and I brought out my iPhone to show him the pictures. What we saw caused a chill to go through Murray's body, and caused me to squeal. And I'm not normally the squealing type:
Now I don't know about you, but that picture freaks me right out. At the time I took it, I had glanced at the result and thought, "That's funny... my eyes were closed." So I took another.
Now I have only to conclude that I've been possessed by the spirit of the previous hat owner. And since it's a black hat with black mesh, it was probably a widow's hat. And the widow probably killed her husband and her children and that's why she wore this mourning hat. And most likely she was killed by a rabid squirrel because she also had a squirrel curse, and now her spirit has possessed me. Great.
No, but seriously, the picture really is creepy. Creepy, creepy, creepy. I wanted to delete it immediately, but better judgment set in and I decided to post it to the internet so that the whole world knows of my possession.
And now, to lighten the mood a little, I present you (and Dr. Rice) with my other antique hat pictures in which I am not so freaky. Well, unless wearing a hat made of severed squirrel tails is considered freaky. Which it is.
So when we asked my mom for a recommendation, she suggested we take a day to visit Historic Ellicott City, a beautiful old city nearby. So we went. And we soon discovered that Ellicott City was simply a city full of nothing but antique shops. It didn't take us long to get tired of that. On the whole, it was a pretty lame experience. So we went home, and that was possibly the day we also went squirrel fishing. I can't quite remember.
The thing is, while we were antique shopping, we found a collection of antique hats. And we tried them on. And we took our pictures in the antique hats. And I brought the pictures with me on my mission.
So fast forward to present time. Since that trip five years ago, Historic Ellicott City has become a joke between me and Dr. Rice. Any time we're together and there's some question about what we might do for fun, we bring up the possibility of taking a trip to Historic Ellicott City and seeing the antique shops.
Today I stopped in at an antique dealer on my way to Murray's house. I'm in the market for a good antique chair right now (to put in the corner of our guest room, and I promise to post a picture when we find one and I reupholster it, but that won't be until after we're married). As I walked through the aisles of overpriced junk, I came upon some antique hats. You might think that the hat experience wouldn't be quite as fun without Dr. Rice, but as I tried on hats and took my picture with them, I imagined all the fun I would have sending the pictures to Dr. Rice.
And I even thought about the blog post I would write about the whole thing. I mean, I even found a hat made from---I swear---squirrel tails. Which is so important to me and Dr. Rice since Dr. Rice has been cursed squirrel-wise ever since we went squirrel fishing. So, like I said, I had my own private photo shoot, which was very enjoyable.
When I got to Murray's, I told him about my experience and I brought out my iPhone to show him the pictures. What we saw caused a chill to go through Murray's body, and caused me to squeal. And I'm not normally the squealing type:
Now I don't know about you, but that picture freaks me right out. At the time I took it, I had glanced at the result and thought, "That's funny... my eyes were closed." So I took another.
Now I have only to conclude that I've been possessed by the spirit of the previous hat owner. And since it's a black hat with black mesh, it was probably a widow's hat. And the widow probably killed her husband and her children and that's why she wore this mourning hat. And most likely she was killed by a rabid squirrel because she also had a squirrel curse, and now her spirit has possessed me. Great.
No, but seriously, the picture really is creepy. Creepy, creepy, creepy. I wanted to delete it immediately, but better judgment set in and I decided to post it to the internet so that the whole world knows of my possession.
And now, to lighten the mood a little, I present you (and Dr. Rice) with my other antique hat pictures in which I am not so freaky. Well, unless wearing a hat made of severed squirrel tails is considered freaky. Which it is.
This and That
I haven't updated in so long and I've had a lot to say, so I'll see how I can do at giving you a life update as concisely as possible.
1. I booked a gaycation with Switchback. Of course, neither of us is gay, but it just turned into what we called our gaycation. She called me one night with news that I could get a round-trip ticket to San Diego for $60. Since Switchback is always worth at least $60, I went online to book my trip, only to discover that the fare was non-existent. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were both purchasing tickets to Maryland for the end of March while she's on Spring Break. We plan on staying with my parents and doing DC and Baltimore. When I didn't blog about this, she wrote me the following email:
2. This leads me into my next story. I was google chatting with Saule Cogneur the other day. My google chat tagline at the time read, "I'm going on gaycation." He asked me how I was doing and pointed out that I seemed busy lately. I mentioned that I've been busy at work and that I've recently started dating someone. Several minutes later, I realized that my tagline read, "I'm going on gaycation" and I told him that I had recently started dating someone, so I felt a strong need to clarify to him that I am dating a MAN.
3. This leads me into my next story. I'm dating a MAN. No seriously. He's ten years older than me. He's suggested we round it down to nine, but I pointed out that it's almost exactly nine and three-quarters years, so it really makes more sense to round up to ten. Since you're all dying to know everything there is to know about him, I'll give you only the most relevant details:
Which doesn't lead me to any more points. I'll try to be better at updating, promise.
1. I booked a gaycation with Switchback. Of course, neither of us is gay, but it just turned into what we called our gaycation. She called me one night with news that I could get a round-trip ticket to San Diego for $60. Since Switchback is always worth at least $60, I went online to book my trip, only to discover that the fare was non-existent. One thing led to another and before we knew it, we were both purchasing tickets to Maryland for the end of March while she's on Spring Break. We plan on staying with my parents and doing DC and Baltimore. When I didn't blog about this, she wrote me the following email:
so I couldn't help but notice that you havent put up our plans for a gaycation on the blog. Are you afraid to admit to everyone who you are and what our relationship is really? Because if you can't, I serious think we should reconsider me meeting your parents.
2. This leads me into my next story. I was google chatting with Saule Cogneur the other day. My google chat tagline at the time read, "I'm going on gaycation." He asked me how I was doing and pointed out that I seemed busy lately. I mentioned that I've been busy at work and that I've recently started dating someone. Several minutes later, I realized that my tagline read, "I'm going on gaycation" and I told him that I had recently started dating someone, so I felt a strong need to clarify to him that I am dating a MAN.
3. This leads me into my next story. I'm dating a MAN. No seriously. He's ten years older than me. He's suggested we round it down to nine, but I pointed out that it's almost exactly nine and three-quarters years, so it really makes more sense to round up to ten. Since you're all dying to know everything there is to know about him, I'll give you only the most relevant details:
- He has only missed flossing three times in the last decade (like, since when he was my age). He was traveling all three times.
- He thinks that Banana Republic is "low-end" and "cheap."
- His Republicanism has already made me angry enough to have caused me to excuse myself from dinner and go to the bathroom to sing repeatedly the first line of Mary Cox and the Pop Rocks' song "All I Care about Is You," which goes, "I don't care if you're Republican; I don't care 'cause that's not quite the worst sin..." I tried unsuccessfully to convince myself that it was true.
- One of his hobbies is photography, and I haven't admitted to him yet that I kindof want to make him go to Antelope Island with me to show me how to take good pictures of birds, because I'm afraid that he'll think I'm cooky. I admit it. It's cooky, which is a word I never use but is entirely applicable in this case. (Luckily, since I am grounded in reality, I'm sure that he'll tell me that he doesn't have the right lens for taking pictures of birds on Antelope Island.)
CICADA: Oh! Wait! Oh my gosh!
RICE: What!
CICADA: I almost forgot!
RICE: OMG! [That’s her making fun of me.] WHAT!
CICADA: El Senor told me the story about the SQUIRREL in your HOUSE and you were SCREAMING and you didn't know what to do!!! Rogers Rice! Of ALL people, I thought you would know BEST what to do with a squirrel. Didn't you have hot dogs and a pole and a string???!
RICE: Oh Cicada. That was Hilarious. And squirrels in homes are much scarier than those in the wild. It started charging me while I was talking to El Senor. No hot dog was going to quell his want of my blood. I fear that I've made an enemy. He now sits on my porch and watches me.
CICADA: How did you get him out?
RICE: It was so awesome. We set up an elaborate obstacle course for him, so he had to charge at me. But I was waiting, holding a broom, at which point I was able to hockey puck out the open door, and he ran up a tree in front of my house. And now he stalks me.
CICADA: Wait... so he really was after YOU the whole time??
RICE: That's what I'm saying. He even peed on my bed
CICADA: I bet it's squirrel revenge. Oh, Rice!
RICE: We made some powerful enemies, Cicada. The hot dog on the stick... Biggest mistake of my life
CICADA: I'm going to have to watch my back from now on. And my bed.
RICE: Word. They'll get you
Which doesn't lead me to any more points. I'll try to be better at updating, promise.
Fishing with Rice
So I promised that I'd tell the story about squirrel fishing with Rice. And that I'd explain why she's called Rice. I'll do so, but don't forget to scroll down and read my post Plugs for Blogs, because I don't want my precious friends to be forgotten.
To give away a bit of Rice's identity, I'm going to admit that her last name is Rogers. I think it's a common enough last name not to get her in trouble (for animal rights violations) on the Internet. Rice's family has a wonderful recipe called Rogers Rice. It was one of the first things I learned about her and one of the first things that made me love her. And believe me---if you got a taste of Rogers Rice, you would want more, too.
I was getting to know Rice in the days before cell phones or caller ID or something---all I know is that I was able to successfully prank call her twice. The first time was a random announcement that her horse was dead (which was funny because she had no horse). The second time, she received a call from Betty Crocker:
Me: Yes, may I please speak to Rice Rogers?
Rice: This is Rice.
Me: Hello, Ms. Rogers. This is Karen from Betty Crocker Inc. It has come to our attention that you have been preparing and sharing a recipe you call "Rogers Rice." Is that correct?
Rice: Yes, that is correct.
Me: Well, Ms. Rogers, it juts so happens that we at Betty Crocker hold the copyright on that recipe and if you do not stop passing out the recipe, we will have to press charges.
Okay, so she figured out it was me. I thought I was very convincing.
Another random fact you should know about Rice that has nothing to do with squirrel fishing is that she hates dairy. I don't understand it. How can anyone not like cheese or ice cream? One day at a Pie Night, I had brought a lemon merengue pie but still had to prepare the merengue. So I had two little egg whites in a small cup. When Rice asked me what was in the cup, Captain Fabuloso and I quickly informed her that it was a non-dairy drink that we brought for her that she simply had to try. So she tried it and then spat the egg whites back into the cup, and then I got mad at her for ruining my merengue. And then El Senor grabbed the "non-dairy drink" that she had spat in and he drank the whole thing down. And I was relieved that my eggs were unwasted. (Here, I'd insert a joke about my eggs being wasted every month as I hurtle toward spinsterhood, but that might gross you all out more than the idea of El Senor drinking egg whites, and none of you would take me seriously anyway because you'd all say something like, "Oh you have a boyfriend. You can't complain.")
Squirrel Fishing
Alright, alright. This is what you all wanted to hear anyway. Before my mission, Rice moved out to the DC area, where I was also living with my parents. She had no friends and I had no friends, so we'd get together and try to find things to do that were new and interesting. One day, we made an unforgettable trip to Historic Ellicott City. We thought it was going to be fun. Instead, we just hit antique shop after antique shop, and really, you can only take so much of that. Another day, in listing ideas of activities, somehow "turtle fishing" was mentioned. Okay, so it may have been me that mentioned it. The fact was that our family lived on a house that backed onto a lake that had turtles. And I had never seen live turtles before! And so I wanted to catch one and play with it.
I reasoned that when I went crawdad fishing (12 years earlier), we caught the crawdads by fastening bacon onto strings tied to sticks. Turtles couldn't be so different. So Rice and I got a broom stick, tied on some string, and brought some hot dogs with us to fasten to the end of the string. We brought a bucket and set off to the lake, full of hope.
It took us about five minutes with our hot dog in the water to figure out that no turtles were going to be interested in what we had to offer. We took our hot dog out of the water and started walking back home. But the woods we had to walk through were full of squirrels. So we decided to see what we could catch. We set the hot dog, still tied to the string attached to our stick, on the ground. A squirrel approached, tentatively picked up the hot dog, and started running as fast as it could. Until it got to the end of the string, at which point, the hot dog stayed still and the squirrel's feet flew out from under it. Upon recovery, the confused squirrel returned to the hot dog and repeated the same process. Rice and I were thrilled to exploit a stupid and helpless creature for our own entertainment.
After a few tries, the squirrel finally wrenched the hot dog free of the string and took off with its prize. And Rice and I set off with a new hot dog to find a new squirrel.
Rogers Rice
2 cups of long grain rice
2 cans of beef consume soup
2 cans of french onion soup
1/2 stick of butter
Combine in a casserole dish and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.
Serve, and enjoy a little piece of Rogers heaven.
(and don't tell Betty Crocker)
To give away a bit of Rice's identity, I'm going to admit that her last name is Rogers. I think it's a common enough last name not to get her in trouble (for animal rights violations) on the Internet. Rice's family has a wonderful recipe called Rogers Rice. It was one of the first things I learned about her and one of the first things that made me love her. And believe me---if you got a taste of Rogers Rice, you would want more, too.
I was getting to know Rice in the days before cell phones or caller ID or something---all I know is that I was able to successfully prank call her twice. The first time was a random announcement that her horse was dead (which was funny because she had no horse). The second time, she received a call from Betty Crocker:
Me: Yes, may I please speak to Rice Rogers?
Rice: This is Rice.
Me: Hello, Ms. Rogers. This is Karen from Betty Crocker Inc. It has come to our attention that you have been preparing and sharing a recipe you call "Rogers Rice." Is that correct?
Rice: Yes, that is correct.
Me: Well, Ms. Rogers, it juts so happens that we at Betty Crocker hold the copyright on that recipe and if you do not stop passing out the recipe, we will have to press charges.
Okay, so she figured out it was me. I thought I was very convincing.
Another random fact you should know about Rice that has nothing to do with squirrel fishing is that she hates dairy. I don't understand it. How can anyone not like cheese or ice cream? One day at a Pie Night, I had brought a lemon merengue pie but still had to prepare the merengue. So I had two little egg whites in a small cup. When Rice asked me what was in the cup, Captain Fabuloso and I quickly informed her that it was a non-dairy drink that we brought for her that she simply had to try. So she tried it and then spat the egg whites back into the cup, and then I got mad at her for ruining my merengue. And then El Senor grabbed the "non-dairy drink" that she had spat in and he drank the whole thing down. And I was relieved that my eggs were unwasted. (Here, I'd insert a joke about my eggs being wasted every month as I hurtle toward spinsterhood, but that might gross you all out more than the idea of El Senor drinking egg whites, and none of you would take me seriously anyway because you'd all say something like, "Oh you have a boyfriend. You can't complain.")
Squirrel Fishing
Alright, alright. This is what you all wanted to hear anyway. Before my mission, Rice moved out to the DC area, where I was also living with my parents. She had no friends and I had no friends, so we'd get together and try to find things to do that were new and interesting. One day, we made an unforgettable trip to Historic Ellicott City. We thought it was going to be fun. Instead, we just hit antique shop after antique shop, and really, you can only take so much of that. Another day, in listing ideas of activities, somehow "turtle fishing" was mentioned. Okay, so it may have been me that mentioned it. The fact was that our family lived on a house that backed onto a lake that had turtles. And I had never seen live turtles before! And so I wanted to catch one and play with it.
I reasoned that when I went crawdad fishing (12 years earlier), we caught the crawdads by fastening bacon onto strings tied to sticks. Turtles couldn't be so different. So Rice and I got a broom stick, tied on some string, and brought some hot dogs with us to fasten to the end of the string. We brought a bucket and set off to the lake, full of hope.
It took us about five minutes with our hot dog in the water to figure out that no turtles were going to be interested in what we had to offer. We took our hot dog out of the water and started walking back home. But the woods we had to walk through were full of squirrels. So we decided to see what we could catch. We set the hot dog, still tied to the string attached to our stick, on the ground. A squirrel approached, tentatively picked up the hot dog, and started running as fast as it could. Until it got to the end of the string, at which point, the hot dog stayed still and the squirrel's feet flew out from under it. Upon recovery, the confused squirrel returned to the hot dog and repeated the same process. Rice and I were thrilled to exploit a stupid and helpless creature for our own entertainment.
After a few tries, the squirrel finally wrenched the hot dog free of the string and took off with its prize. And Rice and I set off with a new hot dog to find a new squirrel.
Rogers Rice
2 cups of long grain rice
2 cans of beef consume soup
2 cans of french onion soup
1/2 stick of butter
Combine in a casserole dish and bake at 375 for 45 minutes.
Serve, and enjoy a little piece of Rogers heaven.
(and don't tell Betty Crocker)
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