1.Post the rules on your blog
2.Write 6 random things about yourself
3.Tag 6 people at the end of your post
4.If you are tagged, just do it, and pass the tag along!
ONE: I fell down a couple of stairs when I visited the Louvre. I don't think anyone saw. Those marble floors are slick!! :o)
TWO: I'm growing my hair out because last December I had a dream that I had very long hair, almost to my waist. In the dream, whenever I let my hair down out of a ponytail or clip and it would cascade down my back, men would literally stop in their tracks. Here's hoping it was a prophetic dream!
THREE: Sometimes I think I like animals better than people. Not that I don't love my friends and family, believe me. But as an introvert with a capital "I", people are often exhausting. I enjoy spending time with my pets and watching animals at the zoo because they have a completely different energy than humans. I find them very soothing.
FOUR: I once got teary-eyed to the Eminem song "Lose Yourself." Granted, I was very hormonal that day. But can't you just feel the raw emotion in these words? "Success is my only motherf****n option. Failure's not. Mom, I love you but this trailer's got to go. I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot. So here I go it's my shot, feet fail me not. This may be the only opportunity that I got." Sniff, sniff. Okay, so maybe I'm hormonal today, too...
FIVE: Every time I visit a bookstore, library, or craft store, I need to poop. Immediately. Without fail. Maybe it's all the paper?
SIX: I watch "America's Next Top Model" and try some of the crazy poses. I never look as glamorous as they do. I also watch "So You Think You Can Dance?" and then get down with my bad self. Ahem. I don't think I'll ever make a living as a dancer either.
Tag you're it! If you've already been tagged, I'm tagging you again because you haven't posted your 6 random facts and I'm pretending like I got to you first. :o)
1. Patricia
2. Kathie
3. Rebekah
4. Kristin
5. Monkey David
6. Liann
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
I guess this means...
that I don't have to get married just to get a KitchenAid stand mixer.
My wonderful extended team at work totally ambushed me this afternoon - in the best way possible. There was a meeting on the calendar that simply said "HR Treats" which I assumed was in honor of one of our departing co-workers. Instead, I was presented with the shiny black KitchenAid of my dreams, along with an apron and new rubber spatula.
Over the last three+ years here (at this company which shall remain nameless), I've enjoyed baking for my teammates and my extended department for a myriad of birthdays and other random occasions. This was a very much unexpected and overwhelming 'thank you' from them, and a total blessing to me.
For Paty and Aim and anyone else who might actually read this, THANK YOU!!!!!! I don't even have words right now. I'm so very touched. (sniff, sniff)
My wonderful extended team at work totally ambushed me this afternoon - in the best way possible. There was a meeting on the calendar that simply said "HR Treats" which I assumed was in honor of one of our departing co-workers. Instead, I was presented with the shiny black KitchenAid of my dreams, along with an apron and new rubber spatula.
Over the last three+ years here (at this company which shall remain nameless), I've enjoyed baking for my teammates and my extended department for a myriad of birthdays and other random occasions. This was a very much unexpected and overwhelming 'thank you' from them, and a total blessing to me.
For Paty and Aim and anyone else who might actually read this, THANK YOU!!!!!! I don't even have words right now. I'm so very touched. (sniff, sniff)
Thursday, September 04, 2008
Pachyderms & Pickles
On Saturday morning, August 23rd, I fought the general laziness that compelled me to sleep late or stay at home. Instead I rose early and made the trek up to the Oregon Zoo. The zoo opens at 9:00am, and in the summertime, you’d better get there by 10:00am if you want to find a parking space. I arrived and began my own version of a “three hour tour,” and much like Gilligan, I got sidetracked and ended up spent vastly more time there… 9+ hours actually.
One of our female Asian elephants, Rose-Tu, was expecting a bouncing baby girl. The due date, after 22 long months of gestation, was anytime between late August and early October. I just wanted to go commune with the animals that morning and leave by noon, not having heard that Rose was in labor. I arrived at the elephant exhibit and found the doors to the indoor viewing area blocked off and covered with paper and signs advising that only staff could enter. I quickly found a volunteer and confirmed my suspicions, that the blessed event was imminent. Much to my excitement, I also discovered that the staff had set up a flat panel TV inside the Elephant Museum building with continuous live feed of the labor & delivery process.
I understand that for many people, watching video of an elephant in labor would rank only slightly higher than watching paint dry, but to me it was irresistible. I stood in that museum for 4 hours, watching, waiting and praying for a safe delivery. Some people might find it a bit odd to pray for animals, but I figure the Lord cares for all of his creation and wants to see animals thrive as well as humans.With the recent decline in the Asian elephant population and a decade-long hiatus on any serious breeding programs, we are at risk of having only 20 Asian elephants left in North American zoos by 2050. The 30% mortality rate for infant elephants doesn’t help either.
Rose-Tu wasn’t alone in her time of need. Shine and Chendra, the other females, kept her company. Normally the “experienced” mothers in a herd would function as midwives and assist a first-time mother such as Rose. Although neither Shine nor Chendra is a mother, Shine had actually witnessed Rose’s birth 14 years ago, when she herself was 11 years old. Shine did her best to comfort her, staying nearby and stroking Rosie's contracting belly with her trunk.
I started watching around noon, just after her water broke, along with a crowd that ranged from perhaps 50-60 people in quieter moments to upwards of 200 in the final hour before the delivery. Early on, Rose-Tu’s labor seemed to be progressing nicely, but by 3:00, it seemed to have stalled. The keepers and vets came in to perform another ultrasound and give her some massage to encourage her contractions. After determining that a.) the baby was in a safe position and b.) that labor had virtually stopped, the vets decided to administer oxytocin to speed things up. The gamble paid off, because at 3:56pm, the baby arrived!
The crowd cheered wildly in those first moments, until things took a frightening turn. It’s common for elephants to nudge their newborns to break the amniotic sack and help the baby to stand, but Rose-Tu seemed confused about what was happening, and became aggressive. She kicked the poor little guy repeatedly, sending him spinning around like a hockey puck. I watched, horrified and wondering if the baby was alive, as the keepers rushed in to intervene. The video feed cut out at that point, leaving the crowd shocked and unsure of what we had just witnessed.
The first update, given by the verklempt Deputy Director about 20 minutes after the birth, was dire news indeed. Although the baby was alive – and surprisingly a “he” rather than the “she” that was expected – they anticipated that he might have internal injuries. The news 20 minutes later was slightly better; the baby was on his feet (with some help), and didn’t have any obvious fractures or deformities. X-rays and scans were needed to rule out any invisible injuries. I spent the next couple of hours wandering around aimlessly and periodically returning to the Elephant Museum for updates. Finally there was some good news! The baby was walking around, had a good sucking reflex and had accepted some fluids, and he was calling for mom. Better yet, Rose-Tu was starting to call back to him. At that point, the Deputy Director said they were “guardedly optimistic,” and I breathed a major sigh of relief.
The battle wasn’t over, yet, for our dedicated staff. Although baby appeared healthy, they now had to reintroduce him to Rose-Tu and determine that her intentions were maternal instead of murderous. The first couple of attempts did not go well, and there were fears that she would reject the calf entirely. After a slow and careful reintroduction process that took nearly 4 days, Rose-Tu began to nurse the baby and accept her role of mother. Hallelujah!!
So this brings me to this past weekend, and the title of my blog… On Saturday, August 30th, the zoo starting offering limited viewing of our new boy. Naturally, I *had* to be there, to bring the traumatic events of the previous Saturday full circle in my mind. I arrived at 9:00am, and stood in a line of hundreds to get a brief peek at the little one. Of course, “little” is a relative term for baby elephants. Nonetheless, our boy tops the scales at 286 pounds – significantly more than the 200-250 pound average.
When I reached the front of the line and entered the viewing area with eager anticipation, I was elated to find a healthy and curious baby, with mom stoically eating and keeping tabs on the boy. This guy is all charm and personality, and it seems clear he’ll be a handful when he gets bigger. And like all newborns, he sleeps. A lot. In fact, while I was watching, he deemed it was time for a nap, and went from exploring and literally trying to climb the walls, to flopping down for a snooze. I think the transition took all of about 20 seconds, and left the observers giggling and emitting gleeful noises.
So the pachyderm connection is clear, but what about the pickles? Well, that was the other main event in this 3-day weekend… trekking to Sauvie Island with Beth and Rebekah to procure 50 pounds of lovely, petite cucumbers for this year’s pickling extravaganza. After 2 days of washing, sorting, slicing, packing jars, and boiling brine we are now knee-deep in dills, bread & butters, and tarragon pickles. The payoff for the labor is worth it in the end, but as Beth indicated, it’s an exhausting process that tends to leave a person smelling like a deli and not wanting to see another pickle for quite some time. Luckily, this is the stage where the pickles “rest” for about 6 weeks, and by the time they’re ready for eating, we’ll have forgotten the long hours in the kitchen and will appreciate anew the glory that is homemade pickles. :o)
Pachyderms + Pickles + 3-Day Weekend = Contented Lisa
One of our female Asian elephants, Rose-Tu, was expecting a bouncing baby girl. The due date, after 22 long months of gestation, was anytime between late August and early October. I just wanted to go commune with the animals that morning and leave by noon, not having heard that Rose was in labor. I arrived at the elephant exhibit and found the doors to the indoor viewing area blocked off and covered with paper and signs advising that only staff could enter. I quickly found a volunteer and confirmed my suspicions, that the blessed event was imminent. Much to my excitement, I also discovered that the staff had set up a flat panel TV inside the Elephant Museum building with continuous live feed of the labor & delivery process.
I understand that for many people, watching video of an elephant in labor would rank only slightly higher than watching paint dry, but to me it was irresistible. I stood in that museum for 4 hours, watching, waiting and praying for a safe delivery. Some people might find it a bit odd to pray for animals, but I figure the Lord cares for all of his creation and wants to see animals thrive as well as humans.With the recent decline in the Asian elephant population and a decade-long hiatus on any serious breeding programs, we are at risk of having only 20 Asian elephants left in North American zoos by 2050. The 30% mortality rate for infant elephants doesn’t help either.
Rose-Tu wasn’t alone in her time of need. Shine and Chendra, the other females, kept her company. Normally the “experienced” mothers in a herd would function as midwives and assist a first-time mother such as Rose. Although neither Shine nor Chendra is a mother, Shine had actually witnessed Rose’s birth 14 years ago, when she herself was 11 years old. Shine did her best to comfort her, staying nearby and stroking Rosie's contracting belly with her trunk.
I started watching around noon, just after her water broke, along with a crowd that ranged from perhaps 50-60 people in quieter moments to upwards of 200 in the final hour before the delivery. Early on, Rose-Tu’s labor seemed to be progressing nicely, but by 3:00, it seemed to have stalled. The keepers and vets came in to perform another ultrasound and give her some massage to encourage her contractions. After determining that a.) the baby was in a safe position and b.) that labor had virtually stopped, the vets decided to administer oxytocin to speed things up. The gamble paid off, because at 3:56pm, the baby arrived!
The crowd cheered wildly in those first moments, until things took a frightening turn. It’s common for elephants to nudge their newborns to break the amniotic sack and help the baby to stand, but Rose-Tu seemed confused about what was happening, and became aggressive. She kicked the poor little guy repeatedly, sending him spinning around like a hockey puck. I watched, horrified and wondering if the baby was alive, as the keepers rushed in to intervene. The video feed cut out at that point, leaving the crowd shocked and unsure of what we had just witnessed.
The first update, given by the verklempt Deputy Director about 20 minutes after the birth, was dire news indeed. Although the baby was alive – and surprisingly a “he” rather than the “she” that was expected – they anticipated that he might have internal injuries. The news 20 minutes later was slightly better; the baby was on his feet (with some help), and didn’t have any obvious fractures or deformities. X-rays and scans were needed to rule out any invisible injuries. I spent the next couple of hours wandering around aimlessly and periodically returning to the Elephant Museum for updates. Finally there was some good news! The baby was walking around, had a good sucking reflex and had accepted some fluids, and he was calling for mom. Better yet, Rose-Tu was starting to call back to him. At that point, the Deputy Director said they were “guardedly optimistic,” and I breathed a major sigh of relief.
The battle wasn’t over, yet, for our dedicated staff. Although baby appeared healthy, they now had to reintroduce him to Rose-Tu and determine that her intentions were maternal instead of murderous. The first couple of attempts did not go well, and there were fears that she would reject the calf entirely. After a slow and careful reintroduction process that took nearly 4 days, Rose-Tu began to nurse the baby and accept her role of mother. Hallelujah!!
So this brings me to this past weekend, and the title of my blog… On Saturday, August 30th, the zoo starting offering limited viewing of our new boy. Naturally, I *had* to be there, to bring the traumatic events of the previous Saturday full circle in my mind. I arrived at 9:00am, and stood in a line of hundreds to get a brief peek at the little one. Of course, “little” is a relative term for baby elephants. Nonetheless, our boy tops the scales at 286 pounds – significantly more than the 200-250 pound average.
When I reached the front of the line and entered the viewing area with eager anticipation, I was elated to find a healthy and curious baby, with mom stoically eating and keeping tabs on the boy. This guy is all charm and personality, and it seems clear he’ll be a handful when he gets bigger. And like all newborns, he sleeps. A lot. In fact, while I was watching, he deemed it was time for a nap, and went from exploring and literally trying to climb the walls, to flopping down for a snooze. I think the transition took all of about 20 seconds, and left the observers giggling and emitting gleeful noises.
So the pachyderm connection is clear, but what about the pickles? Well, that was the other main event in this 3-day weekend… trekking to Sauvie Island with Beth and Rebekah to procure 50 pounds of lovely, petite cucumbers for this year’s pickling extravaganza. After 2 days of washing, sorting, slicing, packing jars, and boiling brine we are now knee-deep in dills, bread & butters, and tarragon pickles. The payoff for the labor is worth it in the end, but as Beth indicated, it’s an exhausting process that tends to leave a person smelling like a deli and not wanting to see another pickle for quite some time. Luckily, this is the stage where the pickles “rest” for about 6 weeks, and by the time they’re ready for eating, we’ll have forgotten the long hours in the kitchen and will appreciate anew the glory that is homemade pickles. :o)
Pachyderms + Pickles + 3-Day Weekend = Contented Lisa
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Jonathan
A poem for Jonathan, who sees the zoo through his own unique eyes... :o)
jonathan at the zoo
shrewd felines wink conspiratorially
sagacious apes soundlessly beckon
meerkats hint at secrets unbidden
but the stalwart owl reveals nothing
nimble elephants dance a merry jig while
stately giraffes converse in rhyme
placid fish take fight beyond
the long reach of resolute penguins
peacocks dabble in vain pursuits
bears stifle giggles behind huge paws
zebras heckle neighboring gazelles
and the croc nods his head in approval
but animals aren’t the only ones who speak here
sidewalks tug at your feet
compelling you against restraint
“hurry, boy, lest you miss
the antics of these affable beasts”
jonathan at the zoo
shrewd felines wink conspiratorially
sagacious apes soundlessly beckon
meerkats hint at secrets unbidden
but the stalwart owl reveals nothing
nimble elephants dance a merry jig while
stately giraffes converse in rhyme
placid fish take fight beyond
the long reach of resolute penguins
peacocks dabble in vain pursuits
bears stifle giggles behind huge paws
zebras heckle neighboring gazelles
and the croc nods his head in approval
but animals aren’t the only ones who speak here
sidewalks tug at your feet
compelling you against restraint
“hurry, boy, lest you miss
the antics of these affable beasts”
Monday, August 18, 2008
Heat, Humidity & Profanity
For any of you not local to the Portland area, our summers are relatively mild, with typically maybe a dozen days of temps over 90 degrees, and only three or four 100+ degree days each summer. This weekend, we had three of those 100 degree days in a row. Now you might not think that's so bad, but I assure you, central air conditioning is not common around here given the usual climate. To make matters worse, I live in a 3rd floor dwelling, where the heat accumulates readily. One hot day won't totally ruin my indoor temps, but three sure will!
It was somewhere in the high 80's inside my apartment by Saturday night, and I was sweating while sitting still doing nothing. The cats at least generally had the good sense to avoid cuddling, so as not to combine our heat and increase it exponentially.
I was so desperate to escape the heat that I actually stopped watching the Olympics to go to a movie. I have been so entranced by the gymnastics and swimming events, that the last 10 days have left me sleep-deprived and thus relatively grateful that this only happens every four years (or every two if you count the Winter Games). :o)
I took a chance on "Tropic Thunder," the concept of which looked fairly funny. I was sorely disappointed... not by a lack of humor - the audience was certainly laughing - but by a level of vulgarity that made all other Stiller movies seem like Pixar flicks. This was a 1 hour 46 minute "f-word" marathon. The rare lines which didn't contain that particular adjective/verb/adverb/noun - they used it in more ways than I had ever imagined!- substituted euphamisms for male genitalia instead. By the end, I thought my ears must be bleeding. I really felt like a worse person for having watched it.
It's unfortunate that the writers chose to take it that route, because the concept was definitely funny, it was very well cast (Kudos to Robert Downey Jr!), and had the potential to be a laughable farse. Instead, I needed "brain bleach" afterwards to rid myself of the parade of expletives and graphic depictions of sexual favors.
Anyway, moving on to more pleasant territory... There is now large a cold front pushing out the hot air (hooray!), and resulting in some rip-roaring thunderstorms, reminiscent of when I lived in Nebraska as a kid. So with the weather somewhere in the high 60's right now, it's time for me to head home and catch up on laundry and other heat-creating household chores, not to mention catching up on 3 day worth of kitty snuggles. >^..^<
It was somewhere in the high 80's inside my apartment by Saturday night, and I was sweating while sitting still doing nothing. The cats at least generally had the good sense to avoid cuddling, so as not to combine our heat and increase it exponentially.
I was so desperate to escape the heat that I actually stopped watching the Olympics to go to a movie. I have been so entranced by the gymnastics and swimming events, that the last 10 days have left me sleep-deprived and thus relatively grateful that this only happens every four years (or every two if you count the Winter Games). :o)
I took a chance on "Tropic Thunder," the concept of which looked fairly funny. I was sorely disappointed... not by a lack of humor - the audience was certainly laughing - but by a level of vulgarity that made all other Stiller movies seem like Pixar flicks. This was a 1 hour 46 minute "f-word" marathon. The rare lines which didn't contain that particular adjective/verb/adverb/noun - they used it in more ways than I had ever imagined!- substituted euphamisms for male genitalia instead. By the end, I thought my ears must be bleeding. I really felt like a worse person for having watched it.
It's unfortunate that the writers chose to take it that route, because the concept was definitely funny, it was very well cast (Kudos to Robert Downey Jr!), and had the potential to be a laughable farse. Instead, I needed "brain bleach" afterwards to rid myself of the parade of expletives and graphic depictions of sexual favors.
Anyway, moving on to more pleasant territory... There is now large a cold front pushing out the hot air (hooray!), and resulting in some rip-roaring thunderstorms, reminiscent of when I lived in Nebraska as a kid. So with the weather somewhere in the high 60's right now, it's time for me to head home and catch up on laundry and other heat-creating household chores, not to mention catching up on 3 day worth of kitty snuggles. >^..^<
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
McDonalds, My Nemesis
I haven't been a frequent customer at the "Golden Arches" for several years now, probably since reading that a person would have to walk *10 miles* to burn off the calories contained in a BigMac value meal. Nonetheless, I periodically feel the draw of the drive-thru... much to my detriment.
For all of you ladies, you *know* how much hormones affect your eating choices, epecially on those PMS days when you are either craving a.) red meat b.) grease & fat c.) chocolate d.) salt or e.) all of the above.
I started the day on a reasonably healthy note, with a piece of string cheese and a slice of banana bread for breakfast. I then proceeded to have a low calorie, all-fruit "Pomegranate Paradise" smoothie (courtesy of Jamba Juice) for lunch. That's 5 servings of fruit in all their lovely, blended glory, baby! I felt pretty satisified until about 4:45pm when my stomach was empty and gurgling, and someone at work (you know who you are!) started talking with me about RedBox video rentals, which are located at --everyone say it with me-- McDONALDS!
Suddenly my mouth started watering profusely and I could taste that unique McD's burger grease. It was all I could think about for the next 15 minutes. I agonized. I looked at the clock. Dang it, 1.5 hours to go in my work day! No one could reasonably expect to fight a PMS craving for that long, with a growling tummy and a diabolically scheming uterus! Why is my uterus yelling at me this way? Why can't it just go back to its singing antics?! Doh!
I caved. I admit it. I am weak. I hopped in my car and drove to the drive thru, and I returned to my desk a very satisfied woman. Maybe a regular cheeseburger would only require a couple of miles of walking? Plus one more mile for the small order of fries? 3 miles isn't so bad, right?
Men, you will NEVER, EVER know the power of PMS. You may think you do --heck, you may even live with it for a few days each month-- but you will never really know.
For all of you ladies, you *know* how much hormones affect your eating choices, epecially on those PMS days when you are either craving a.) red meat b.) grease & fat c.) chocolate d.) salt or e.) all of the above.
I started the day on a reasonably healthy note, with a piece of string cheese and a slice of banana bread for breakfast. I then proceeded to have a low calorie, all-fruit "Pomegranate Paradise" smoothie (courtesy of Jamba Juice) for lunch. That's 5 servings of fruit in all their lovely, blended glory, baby! I felt pretty satisified until about 4:45pm when my stomach was empty and gurgling, and someone at work (you know who you are!) started talking with me about RedBox video rentals, which are located at --everyone say it with me-- McDONALDS!
Suddenly my mouth started watering profusely and I could taste that unique McD's burger grease. It was all I could think about for the next 15 minutes. I agonized. I looked at the clock. Dang it, 1.5 hours to go in my work day! No one could reasonably expect to fight a PMS craving for that long, with a growling tummy and a diabolically scheming uterus! Why is my uterus yelling at me this way? Why can't it just go back to its singing antics?! Doh!
I caved. I admit it. I am weak. I hopped in my car and drove to the drive thru, and I returned to my desk a very satisfied woman. Maybe a regular cheeseburger would only require a couple of miles of walking? Plus one more mile for the small order of fries? 3 miles isn't so bad, right?
Men, you will NEVER, EVER know the power of PMS. You may think you do --heck, you may even live with it for a few days each month-- but you will never really know.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Penguins! (and an occasional dinosaur)
A bit over a week ago, my sister and niece made the 400-mile journey to Oregon for a long overdue visit. Last time they were here, 2 years ago now, our plans were thwarted by a bout of flu, and they departed having spent more time in bed or bent over a bucket than doing anything fun, such as visiting the zoo.
My behind-the-scenes Africa tour of the zoo in March --wherein I fed the giraffe, hippos, and rhino-- proved to be addictive, so I felt the need to spread this new "habit" to others. My sis has been a penguin freak ever since we were kids, and the obsession seems to have been genetically passed to her daughter. Therefore, when the zoo announced a behind-the-scenes penguin encounter, plans were quickly made for a visit that weekend.
Fast forward a couple of months, and we found ourselves at the gates of the Oregon Zoo, preparing to go meet the Humboldt penguin residents. We met up with "our" keeper, Rick, in the "kitchen" (work room) behind the penguin habitat, and he quickly summoned Mochica, the guest of honor.
Throughout his lifetime, Mochica has staunchly refused to believe that he is indeed a penguin. He decided early on that he was a human, and nothing the keepers tried convinced him otherwise. He won't pick a mate, despite his valuable genetics, instead favoring the company of the keepers.
Rick summoned Mo, who came running for the door to the kitchen, and joined us there. He strolled around our feet, preening compulsively and generally being grumpy as he was in the middle of his annual molt.
After the sharing of some fascinating tidbits about penguin anatomy and adaptations, Rick scooped up Mo and brought him around for us to touch. There are two ways I can describe the sensation... First, penguins are extremely muscular and solid. The feeling is similar to wrapping your hands around your quadriceps while flexed. Second, the texture of the feathers felt like petting a damp labrador retriever. It's sleek, but you can feel the texture of the many little clumps of hair (or feathers in this case). We touched him again later when he was dry, and he was rather soft at that point.
Rick decided to take our group out into the enclosure at that point, and we filed through the door onto the platform at the back of the exhibit. I was first through the door, and found myself down at the end of the platform where a ramp leads down to the water. It wasn't long before several of the penguins came up the ramp to check us out, and presumably to determine if we came bearing fishy gifts.
Humboldt penguins are of the variety that mate for life, and we were able to see one pair that had been together for 18 years. (Puts a lot of marriages to shame, eh?) She is nearly blind and he has arthritis, so they're like the perfect little grandparent penguins. :o)
We left the penguin enclosure after a bit, and headed back into the kitchen for a photo op with Mo. I was ecstatic when Rick retrieved the penguin from under a kitchen counter, took my camera, plonked him down on the floor in front of me and said, "Here. Hold him."
My sis had the same opportunity, and her huge grin nearly split her head in half. Here's my sister and niece in a different photo op with our tuxedo-wearing buddy...
After the conclusion of the tour, we spent the rest of the day at the zoo, totalling about 9 hours of viewing pleasure. This was tough on my sister, who had fallen down her basement stairs and wrenched her back 2 days before the trip, but I'm glad she was up to checking out the whole place considering how much she's heard about it from me, and how long it took to actually get them here.
The zoo has had a special exhibit his summer, featuring animatronic dinosaurs in a "natural" setting along a newly built and lovely trail. Some were small and very clearly animatronic, but others were a bit more realistic. The predatory dinosaurs, such as Megalosauros, were posed so that they looked as if they were about to leap on you. T-Rex is the only life-size model in the bunch, but they did a phenomenal job with him, placing him at the head of a trail as you come up a little hill and around a corner. He's there, waiting to blast you with a loud roar, and following you with his beady eyes. It's really quite an effect (even his throat "muscles" move!), and my sister found that her heart rate sped up substantially, even knowing that he's not real.
At the end of the path, we took a moment to rest with the apotosaurs...
The zoo was just one highlight of a lovely weekend. Girls, thank you so much for coming, and don't stay away too long!
Smooches,
"Aunt Lisa"
My behind-the-scenes Africa tour of the zoo in March --wherein I fed the giraffe, hippos, and rhino-- proved to be addictive, so I felt the need to spread this new "habit" to others. My sis has been a penguin freak ever since we were kids, and the obsession seems to have been genetically passed to her daughter. Therefore, when the zoo announced a behind-the-scenes penguin encounter, plans were quickly made for a visit that weekend.
Fast forward a couple of months, and we found ourselves at the gates of the Oregon Zoo, preparing to go meet the Humboldt penguin residents. We met up with "our" keeper, Rick, in the "kitchen" (work room) behind the penguin habitat, and he quickly summoned Mochica, the guest of honor.
Throughout his lifetime, Mochica has staunchly refused to believe that he is indeed a penguin. He decided early on that he was a human, and nothing the keepers tried convinced him otherwise. He won't pick a mate, despite his valuable genetics, instead favoring the company of the keepers.
Rick summoned Mo, who came running for the door to the kitchen, and joined us there. He strolled around our feet, preening compulsively and generally being grumpy as he was in the middle of his annual molt.
After the sharing of some fascinating tidbits about penguin anatomy and adaptations, Rick scooped up Mo and brought him around for us to touch. There are two ways I can describe the sensation... First, penguins are extremely muscular and solid. The feeling is similar to wrapping your hands around your quadriceps while flexed. Second, the texture of the feathers felt like petting a damp labrador retriever. It's sleek, but you can feel the texture of the many little clumps of hair (or feathers in this case). We touched him again later when he was dry, and he was rather soft at that point.
Rick decided to take our group out into the enclosure at that point, and we filed through the door onto the platform at the back of the exhibit. I was first through the door, and found myself down at the end of the platform where a ramp leads down to the water. It wasn't long before several of the penguins came up the ramp to check us out, and presumably to determine if we came bearing fishy gifts.
Humboldt penguins are of the variety that mate for life, and we were able to see one pair that had been together for 18 years. (Puts a lot of marriages to shame, eh?) She is nearly blind and he has arthritis, so they're like the perfect little grandparent penguins. :o)
We left the penguin enclosure after a bit, and headed back into the kitchen for a photo op with Mo. I was ecstatic when Rick retrieved the penguin from under a kitchen counter, took my camera, plonked him down on the floor in front of me and said, "Here. Hold him."
My sis had the same opportunity, and her huge grin nearly split her head in half. Here's my sister and niece in a different photo op with our tuxedo-wearing buddy...
After the conclusion of the tour, we spent the rest of the day at the zoo, totalling about 9 hours of viewing pleasure. This was tough on my sister, who had fallen down her basement stairs and wrenched her back 2 days before the trip, but I'm glad she was up to checking out the whole place considering how much she's heard about it from me, and how long it took to actually get them here.
The zoo has had a special exhibit his summer, featuring animatronic dinosaurs in a "natural" setting along a newly built and lovely trail. Some were small and very clearly animatronic, but others were a bit more realistic. The predatory dinosaurs, such as Megalosauros, were posed so that they looked as if they were about to leap on you. T-Rex is the only life-size model in the bunch, but they did a phenomenal job with him, placing him at the head of a trail as you come up a little hill and around a corner. He's there, waiting to blast you with a loud roar, and following you with his beady eyes. It's really quite an effect (even his throat "muscles" move!), and my sister found that her heart rate sped up substantially, even knowing that he's not real.
At the end of the path, we took a moment to rest with the apotosaurs...
The zoo was just one highlight of a lovely weekend. Girls, thank you so much for coming, and don't stay away too long!
Smooches,
"Aunt Lisa"
Monday, July 14, 2008
Braveheart
 | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0 created with QuizFarm.com | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| You scored as William Wallace The great Scottish warrior William Wallace led his people against their English oppressors in a campaign that won independence for Scotland and immortalized him in the hearts of his countrymen. With his warrior's heart, tactician's mind, and poet's soul, Wallace was a brilliant leader. He just wanted to live a simple life on his farm, but he gave it up to help his country in its time of need.
|
Monday, July 07, 2008
In all her glory...
As life has been spinning around in a whirlwind the past few weeks, I've been kept away from "recreational" computer use and thus, my blog has been neglected. Sigh. But I'm back, for what it's worth...
Mom came for a much-needed visit in mid/late June, and we opted to go somewhere different than our usual haunts. We headed north to Mt St Helens, and were richly rewarded for the 2 hour drive. I hadn't been there since I was in 6th grade, so around 19 years ago. That visit was 9 years post-eruption, so it has now been 28 years since the big kaboom, and a lot has changed.
There are sites all over Bronson Pinchot National Forest - scratch that, I mean Gifford Pinchot National Forest - worth seeing, but unfortunately there is no road that circumnavigates the whole mountain, so something that's 20 miles away as the crow flies might take 4 hours to get to by road.
Being that we only had a few hours - ideally, this would make a great camping trip for a long weekend, to see the many sites on all 4 sides - we had to stick to the north and west sides, but those provided stunning views at any rate. This route takes you along the North Fork of the Toutle River, where the mud flows ultimately raised the floor of the river valley by 150+ feet.
As you leave I-5 and head east towards the mountain, you can hardly throw a rock without hitting a visitor center (whether state, federal, or private) or dramatic view point. Here's a view from the visitor center near Castle Rock by Silver Lake. It's a bit tough to see her in the photo, because the sky was positively bathed with sunlight, and the vibrant greens somewhat drowned out the white snowcapped beauty. This is almost 50 miles from the base, but even here you can tell that she's one giant mountain!
The drive in from this first visitor center to our ultimate destination, Johnston Ridge Observatory, entailed about 45 minutes or so of beautiful forested country and cool bridges. (Note: When you pull off at a viewpoint called 'Bridge View', the view is *not* that of the mountain from a bridge. It's really just a view of a bridge.)
As you approach from the northwest, you start to see the gaping hole in her side. We couldn't resist the snapping a few pics at this viewpoint, where we also viewed herds of elk that have congregating in the area again since the year after the eruption. I also 'fed' a large elk statue here, much to my dad's befuddlement when he viewed the pics. Time for an eye checkup, okay, Dad? ;o)
As we got higher in elevation and closer to mountain, the stillness and heat gave way to substantial winds. At this particular place, the Loowit Viewpoint, the blowing ash and dust gave her a surreal misty quality. If you had told me I wasn't actually looking at a mountain but rather at a matte painting, I would've almost believed it.
As you drive towards the mountain, there's a pretty clear line of demarcation where the Weyerhauser-owned lands were replanted and where the national monument lands have been intentionally left untouched to see how and when life will return. The copious quantities of ash (several feet deep in places) initially prevented new plant growth, unless a plant had survived that was already rooted in the soil beneath the ash... of course, that's in the places that still have soil and weren't blasted all the way down to the bedrock. It may take centuries for abundant life to return within the 6-mile 'blast zone' around the mountain. Anyhow, I digress...
We left Loowit and discovered to our surprise that we were literally just around the bend from Johnston Ridge Observatory. The observatory, named in honor of geologist David Johnston who was killed in the blast, is a mere 5.5 miles from the crater, and the view is breathtaking. From here, you can actually see the glaciers inside the crater, as well as the new cone trying to 'rebuild' itself. Although quite a few plant and animal species have returned in the past 28 years, the pumice plain in front of the lateral blast area is still barren and haunting.
Mom and I lingered for a long time, not really wanting to leave her. Mountains in general are impressive, but she's one of those special ones that seems utterly majestic and imbued with (mostly) repressed strength, all the while being simply gorgeous. She seemed to speak, if you can believe it. (Maybe this is what the Bible refers to about even the rocks crying out?) It was hard to leave, and we kept craning our heads backwards as we drove away, always wanting one last view.
Kathie, next time you are here visiting in late spring/summer/early fall, we'll all need to take a road trip to see her in person. I, for one, am I kinda sad that I stayed away for so long and have missed out on this beauty in our 'backyard.'
Just a shout out to Mommers - Thank you so much for coming to visit and being there to comfort my hurting heart. I continue to be grateful for the providence of your presence that weekend. I love you!!
Mom came for a much-needed visit in mid/late June, and we opted to go somewhere different than our usual haunts. We headed north to Mt St Helens, and were richly rewarded for the 2 hour drive. I hadn't been there since I was in 6th grade, so around 19 years ago. That visit was 9 years post-eruption, so it has now been 28 years since the big kaboom, and a lot has changed.
There are sites all over Bronson Pinchot National Forest - scratch that, I mean Gifford Pinchot National Forest - worth seeing, but unfortunately there is no road that circumnavigates the whole mountain, so something that's 20 miles away as the crow flies might take 4 hours to get to by road.
Being that we only had a few hours - ideally, this would make a great camping trip for a long weekend, to see the many sites on all 4 sides - we had to stick to the north and west sides, but those provided stunning views at any rate. This route takes you along the North Fork of the Toutle River, where the mud flows ultimately raised the floor of the river valley by 150+ feet.
As you leave I-5 and head east towards the mountain, you can hardly throw a rock without hitting a visitor center (whether state, federal, or private) or dramatic view point. Here's a view from the visitor center near Castle Rock by Silver Lake. It's a bit tough to see her in the photo, because the sky was positively bathed with sunlight, and the vibrant greens somewhat drowned out the white snowcapped beauty. This is almost 50 miles from the base, but even here you can tell that she's one giant mountain!
The drive in from this first visitor center to our ultimate destination, Johnston Ridge Observatory, entailed about 45 minutes or so of beautiful forested country and cool bridges. (Note: When you pull off at a viewpoint called 'Bridge View', the view is *not* that of the mountain from a bridge. It's really just a view of a bridge.)
As you approach from the northwest, you start to see the gaping hole in her side. We couldn't resist the snapping a few pics at this viewpoint, where we also viewed herds of elk that have congregating in the area again since the year after the eruption. I also 'fed' a large elk statue here, much to my dad's befuddlement when he viewed the pics. Time for an eye checkup, okay, Dad? ;o)
As we got higher in elevation and closer to mountain, the stillness and heat gave way to substantial winds. At this particular place, the Loowit Viewpoint, the blowing ash and dust gave her a surreal misty quality. If you had told me I wasn't actually looking at a mountain but rather at a matte painting, I would've almost believed it.
As you drive towards the mountain, there's a pretty clear line of demarcation where the Weyerhauser-owned lands were replanted and where the national monument lands have been intentionally left untouched to see how and when life will return. The copious quantities of ash (several feet deep in places) initially prevented new plant growth, unless a plant had survived that was already rooted in the soil beneath the ash... of course, that's in the places that still have soil and weren't blasted all the way down to the bedrock. It may take centuries for abundant life to return within the 6-mile 'blast zone' around the mountain. Anyhow, I digress...
We left Loowit and discovered to our surprise that we were literally just around the bend from Johnston Ridge Observatory. The observatory, named in honor of geologist David Johnston who was killed in the blast, is a mere 5.5 miles from the crater, and the view is breathtaking. From here, you can actually see the glaciers inside the crater, as well as the new cone trying to 'rebuild' itself. Although quite a few plant and animal species have returned in the past 28 years, the pumice plain in front of the lateral blast area is still barren and haunting.
Mom and I lingered for a long time, not really wanting to leave her. Mountains in general are impressive, but she's one of those special ones that seems utterly majestic and imbued with (mostly) repressed strength, all the while being simply gorgeous. She seemed to speak, if you can believe it. (Maybe this is what the Bible refers to about even the rocks crying out?) It was hard to leave, and we kept craning our heads backwards as we drove away, always wanting one last view.
Kathie, next time you are here visiting in late spring/summer/early fall, we'll all need to take a road trip to see her in person. I, for one, am I kinda sad that I stayed away for so long and have missed out on this beauty in our 'backyard.'
Just a shout out to Mommers - Thank you so much for coming to visit and being there to comfort my hurting heart. I continue to be grateful for the providence of your presence that weekend. I love you!!
Monday, June 23, 2008
Monday, June 02, 2008
It's June 2nd...
...which means that my month sans chai lattes is over, and I was free to indulge in one on the way to church yesterday. The good news is that I believe the magical spell is broken. It tasted good and I was glad to drink it, but it wasn't like, "O Sweet Nectar of Life, where have you been?!?!" I think chai has been downgraded from addiction to merely something I enjoy. Now that is good news for my spirit, my waistline, and my wallet! I suppose perhaps I should try this little fasting experiment with chocolate to break its hold on me... but not quite yet. I'll get there one of these days. :o)
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tra-la-la-la-laaaaaa!
My routine 6-month dental cleaning was yesterday, and I noticed something strange in my chart notes...
The hygienist was asking about medications and supplements, and I mentioned taking evening primrose oil for menstrual symptoms. She noted that it was for "minstrel cramps", so I guess if my uterus breaks into song then you'll know it's my time of the month. :o)
The hygienist was asking about medications and supplements, and I mentioned taking evening primrose oil for menstrual symptoms. She noted that it was for "minstrel cramps", so I guess if my uterus breaks into song then you'll know it's my time of the month. :o)
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Shout to the Lord
WOW. Okay, so I heard from a reliable source (Seth, our drummer with the TFC worship team) that the American Idol contestants sang "Shout to the Lord" as a group number on one of the shows this year. It's not that I disbelieved him, but I really wanted to see for myself. Well, here it is...
Jesus has definitely been a more prevalent name than usual in this year's competition, especially on the night when Dolly Parton was the guest artist. On that night, more than one contestant sang faith-based songs, and Dolly herself sang a song called "Jesus & Gravity." What a remarkable thing, to welcome our Lord and Savior onto network television! :o)
Jesus has definitely been a more prevalent name than usual in this year's competition, especially on the night when Dolly Parton was the guest artist. On that night, more than one contestant sang faith-based songs, and Dolly herself sang a song called "Jesus & Gravity." What a remarkable thing, to welcome our Lord and Savior onto network television! :o)
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Day 8
This, my friends, is Day 8 of my month without indulging in the supremely addictive chai lattes which have become my comfort from stress and the bane of my caloric existence. Argh, this is harder than it should be. It's only a beverage right? On the bright side, I noticed today that my hands aren't shaking in the morning with the rush of sugar and caffeine. That makes it much easier to sit at my keyboard and type, without the appearance of early-onset Parkinson's disease. Oh why, oh why must you call to me so, O Woobie in Liquid form, Thou $4 Temptress?! As Beth would say, "You will not defeat me!"
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
Random cat humour...
...courtesy of YouTube. >^..^<
An Engineer's Guide to Cats
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 1
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 2
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 3, The Star Wars Special
An Engineer's Guide to Cats
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 1
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 2
Cat of 1000 Faces - Episode 3, The Star Wars Special
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Presentation Skills
Today's lesson on the art of presentation skills:
While providing corporate training on the use of internal web-based software applications, make sure that there aren't ridiculously cute goslings gawking at the class through the conference room windows. They *totally* steal your thunder and cause the students to be distracted...
While providing corporate training on the use of internal web-based software applications, make sure that there aren't ridiculously cute goslings gawking at the class through the conference room windows. They *totally* steal your thunder and cause the students to be distracted...
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I'm a tricksey one! :o)
Your Superpower Should Be Invisibility |
 You are stealth, complex, and creative. You never face problems head on. Instead, you rely on your craftiness to get your way. A mystery to others, you thrive on being a little misunderstood. You happily work behind the scenes... because there's nothing better than a sneak attack! Why you would be a good superhero: You're so sly, no one would notice... not even your best friends Your biggest problem as a superhero: Missing out on all of the glory that visible superheroes get |
Friday, April 11, 2008
I'm cheating on my own blog.
Just a nod to my *new* blog, specific to Battlestar Galactica. If you're interested in reading my sometimes snarky commentary regarding Season 4, feel free to check out Previously on Battlestar Galactica...
http://previouslyonBSG.blogspot.com
If you choose to just remain here, it'll protect you from spoilers... and from boredom if you're not a BSG lover.
Now grab your gun and bring in the cat. What do you hear? Nothing but the rain, sir!
http://previouslyonBSG.blogspot.com
If you choose to just remain here, it'll protect you from spoilers... and from boredom if you're not a BSG lover.
Now grab your gun and bring in the cat. What do you hear? Nothing but the rain, sir!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Not Easter, But Valentines
There are days in life that stand out from the rest, remarkable and unforgettable. This past Saturday was one such magical day for me.
As a birthday present to myself last month, I registered for a VIP Encounter at the Oregon Zoo. I realize that this wouldn’t be everyone’s ideal way to spend a Saturday, but to me, the zoo is a place of rest and never ending fascination. I don’t believe that anyone has to know me very well or for very long before discovering my passion for animals. In the days leading up to the tour, I became increasingly excited. Saturday morning dawned and found me much as a child on Christmas morning. I awoke with the sun and continued to toss and turn in giddy anticipation. Today I am going to meet a giraffe.
Giraffes in particular delight and astound me. They are a miracle of engineering that I believe defy natural selection. Due to their absurdly long necks, the only way that blood can actually make the long trek to the brain is by a special series of valves to prevent gravity from dragging it all back down between heartbeats. Likewise, when the giraffe straddles his front legs wide and dips down his head to drink, the overwhelming rush of blood to the head would be fatal, were it not for a pressure-regulation system in the upper neck. The giraffe has a 2-foot long heart and twice the blood pressure of other large mammals (three times the blood pressure of a human) to power this amazing circulatory system. The giraffe’s extraordinarily thick hide (2 or more inches) serves as a pressure suit to prevent the massive blood pressure from forcing blood out through the capillary walls.
This is no simple creature, but highly developed and highly specialized. If it really is “survival of the fittest,” I’m a bit skeptical about evolution trying so hard to put together an herbivore that defies physics, just to keep the topmost foliage from getting out of hand. Seriously, wouldn’t a bird or a climbing primate or marsupial do just as well, and with less modification? To me, the giraffe speaks volumes about a superbly creative God, and defies the notion that a creature with such intricate systems evolved on its own from the primordial ooze from whence we allegedly sprang.
Returning to my story, I rose early on Saturday morning and prepared for a day which I knew would be potentially amazing. I’ve watched this particular giraffe, Akeem, for many hours, and have longed to get up close to him. The tour description said that we would be feeding treats to Akeem, which was enough to make me pay the $85 fee, even if that was all we got to do. The rest would be gravy.
After arriving at the zoo and walking with two volunteers and the other seven individuals on the tour to the predetermined meeting place with “our” zookeeper, we commenced on a tour of the Africa exhibit, learning fascinating facts along the way. Our first animal contact was to take place at the giraffe barn. I entered into the building just behind the zookeeper, and made a beeline for the window at Akeem’s head level. For some reason I was imagining that he would need to be summoned, to be coaxed over to meet us, but the moment I approached the window, in swung his big, beautiful head in greeting. I was standing face to face with one of the most glorious creatures I’ve ever been privileged to meet. While he is meek, Akeem is anything but wooden. It’s hard to describe, but he radiated a sense of thought and purpose. His eyes were dancing with thoughts unknown. I approached with a handful of alfalfa pellets, and his whiskered and warm lips eagerly scooped them into his mouth, his breath warm on my fingers. It was magical. I looked past his head and my eager eyes traveled down all 16’3” of him to the floor. It’s an impressive sight, believe me. After an all too brief time with Akeem, I reluctantly departed the giraffe barn to continue on and meet other fascinating creatures.
The tour ended after we looped back around to the rhino barn, and went in for a “meet and greet” with Pete, the black rhino. Unbeknownst to me, however, the rhino barn is also the hippo barn, and we were also going to meet the curvaceous hippo gals, Poppy and Bubbles. Could you possibly come up with more dainty names for 2000+ pound hippos? The irony was not lost on me. The keeper called to the plump pachyderms, and they came lumbering up to the gate separating the barn from the hippo habitat. I’m not going to pretend that hippos are the most aesthetically pleasing animals, but I must say that their charm greatly helped to offset other deficiencies… like oral hygiene. These ladies were all about the chow, and immediately propped their many chins against the bars of the gate, and opened up those cavernous mouths in hopes of a snack. We proceeded to toss in slices of fruit, which they occasionally closed their mouths to chew and swallow. We were able to stroke them under their chins, which surprised me given how inherently grouchy and dangerous they are in the wild. These ladies seemed quite happy for the attention, however. I have to admit, though, that I snatched my hand back pretty quickly whenever those massive jaws closed down.
After bidding a fond farewell to Poppy and Bubbles, we proceeded back through the barn to the next paddock, the home of Pete. His keeper called his name loudly, and moments later he appeared at the gate. Pete is an easygoing old guy who seems to like people and enjoys a good scratching. Here’s a side note about rhinos: the “white” and “black” rhino species are really misnomers. White rhinos are called such because of a misinterpretation of the Afrikaans word for “wide”, referring to its wide mouth, used for grazing on grass. The black rhino, while not particularly darker in color, has a narrow mouth and a prehensile upper lip, used for eating leaves, twigs, and woody plants. Pete is of the “black” variety, and up close his lip is just the goofiest thing you can imagine. Unlike the rough leathery body, the lip is smooth and rubbery, and acts almost like a finger as he uses it to scoop up food. We offered him pieces of apple which he maneuvered from our cupped hands using that ridiculous appendage. As often as not, our whole hands would get sucked up into his mouth along with the fruit, but we were not in danger of being bitten. We were, however, in danger of being drowned in slobber. I’m telling you, I was wet up to the elbows!
After a final snapshot or two with Pete and a thorough hand washing, the tour ended and we all went our own ways to enjoy the remainder of the day. If this was where my story ended, if this was the end of my day, I’d have been incandescently happy. But there was more in store for me.
This being the day before Easter, the zoo had a variety of activities for families and kids, including egg hunts and face painting and the like. One thing I had noticed on a flier I was handed as we entered the zoo, was that at 12:45 there was to be a drawing which would allow a few lucky winners the opportunity to hide Easter treats for the elephants. When we left the rhino barn, it was already 12:30, and I had to hustle to find the place where I could enter the contest. After a brief wait, a local radio DJ commenced pulling names from the basket, while I sat down and reviewed the schedule, planning to go see the polar bears receive their goodie baskets. I was shocked when I heard my name called a few minutes later. Are you kidding me?! This morning I got to pet and feed a giraffe, two hippos and a rhino, and now I get to go into the elephant enclosure?? This is unbelievable!
Our group of perhaps twenty winners headed to the back of the elephant barn, and were let into the paddock. I expected that the elephants would have been taken into the barn, and then let out again once we were safely outside. I figured wrong. The three female elephants were lined up obediently at one end of the enclosure, while we proceeded to hide apple and sweet potato pieces in all of the nooks and crannies of the walls or lightly buried in the dirt. The zookeepers encouraged us to challenge the elephants a bit, and I was happy to oblige. (Anyone who has endured my Easter egg hiding skills can relate.)
After we had hidden the loot, the humans were asked to return to one area of the enclosure, and the elephants were then led out to “center stage.” After performing a series of tricks, including lying down, sitting up, and saluting, the ladies were released to look for the food. The keepers then asked if we’d like our pictures taken with an elephant. They had to ask?! They drew a line in the dirt and had us approach one person (or one family) at a time and stand on the line. They would then lead one of the elephants up behind us and have it pose for the shot. I ended up with Chendra, a rather small adult female, in my photo. (She’s the one that makes most visitors say, “Oh, look at the baby!” but she’s actually an adult that was malnourished as a youngster and is consequently maybe 2/3 the size of the other females.) After the picture was taken, I looked over my shoulder and found that she was perhaps 3 feet away from me. Gasp!
When I arrived home, still positively grinning and floating on air, I returned a call from Beth and related the experience to her. Oddly enough, her response was what I had been thinking all day: “Jesus loves you, Lisa!” Throughout the morning as I was able to partake of His glorious creation, and especially when my name was drawn for the elephant experience, I couldn’t help but feel like the Lord was saying, “The doors are open for you today, my love. Come. Experience my creation. Taste and see that I am good.” In the midst of a season in which my faith has felt transient and contrived, this was a welcome blessing indeed.
Jesus speaks to Chris through bears (and through deers in the past) and to Lanette via hearts, but here was my love letter. So for me, this weekend wasn’t so much Easter as it was Valentines Day. Amen.
As a birthday present to myself last month, I registered for a VIP Encounter at the Oregon Zoo. I realize that this wouldn’t be everyone’s ideal way to spend a Saturday, but to me, the zoo is a place of rest and never ending fascination. I don’t believe that anyone has to know me very well or for very long before discovering my passion for animals. In the days leading up to the tour, I became increasingly excited. Saturday morning dawned and found me much as a child on Christmas morning. I awoke with the sun and continued to toss and turn in giddy anticipation. Today I am going to meet a giraffe.
Giraffes in particular delight and astound me. They are a miracle of engineering that I believe defy natural selection. Due to their absurdly long necks, the only way that blood can actually make the long trek to the brain is by a special series of valves to prevent gravity from dragging it all back down between heartbeats. Likewise, when the giraffe straddles his front legs wide and dips down his head to drink, the overwhelming rush of blood to the head would be fatal, were it not for a pressure-regulation system in the upper neck. The giraffe has a 2-foot long heart and twice the blood pressure of other large mammals (three times the blood pressure of a human) to power this amazing circulatory system. The giraffe’s extraordinarily thick hide (2 or more inches) serves as a pressure suit to prevent the massive blood pressure from forcing blood out through the capillary walls.
This is no simple creature, but highly developed and highly specialized. If it really is “survival of the fittest,” I’m a bit skeptical about evolution trying so hard to put together an herbivore that defies physics, just to keep the topmost foliage from getting out of hand. Seriously, wouldn’t a bird or a climbing primate or marsupial do just as well, and with less modification? To me, the giraffe speaks volumes about a superbly creative God, and defies the notion that a creature with such intricate systems evolved on its own from the primordial ooze from whence we allegedly sprang.
Returning to my story, I rose early on Saturday morning and prepared for a day which I knew would be potentially amazing. I’ve watched this particular giraffe, Akeem, for many hours, and have longed to get up close to him. The tour description said that we would be feeding treats to Akeem, which was enough to make me pay the $85 fee, even if that was all we got to do. The rest would be gravy.
After arriving at the zoo and walking with two volunteers and the other seven individuals on the tour to the predetermined meeting place with “our” zookeeper, we commenced on a tour of the Africa exhibit, learning fascinating facts along the way. Our first animal contact was to take place at the giraffe barn. I entered into the building just behind the zookeeper, and made a beeline for the window at Akeem’s head level. For some reason I was imagining that he would need to be summoned, to be coaxed over to meet us, but the moment I approached the window, in swung his big, beautiful head in greeting. I was standing face to face with one of the most glorious creatures I’ve ever been privileged to meet. While he is meek, Akeem is anything but wooden. It’s hard to describe, but he radiated a sense of thought and purpose. His eyes were dancing with thoughts unknown. I approached with a handful of alfalfa pellets, and his whiskered and warm lips eagerly scooped them into his mouth, his breath warm on my fingers. It was magical. I looked past his head and my eager eyes traveled down all 16’3” of him to the floor. It’s an impressive sight, believe me. After an all too brief time with Akeem, I reluctantly departed the giraffe barn to continue on and meet other fascinating creatures.
The tour ended after we looped back around to the rhino barn, and went in for a “meet and greet” with Pete, the black rhino. Unbeknownst to me, however, the rhino barn is also the hippo barn, and we were also going to meet the curvaceous hippo gals, Poppy and Bubbles. Could you possibly come up with more dainty names for 2000+ pound hippos? The irony was not lost on me. The keeper called to the plump pachyderms, and they came lumbering up to the gate separating the barn from the hippo habitat. I’m not going to pretend that hippos are the most aesthetically pleasing animals, but I must say that their charm greatly helped to offset other deficiencies… like oral hygiene. These ladies were all about the chow, and immediately propped their many chins against the bars of the gate, and opened up those cavernous mouths in hopes of a snack. We proceeded to toss in slices of fruit, which they occasionally closed their mouths to chew and swallow. We were able to stroke them under their chins, which surprised me given how inherently grouchy and dangerous they are in the wild. These ladies seemed quite happy for the attention, however. I have to admit, though, that I snatched my hand back pretty quickly whenever those massive jaws closed down.
After bidding a fond farewell to Poppy and Bubbles, we proceeded back through the barn to the next paddock, the home of Pete. His keeper called his name loudly, and moments later he appeared at the gate. Pete is an easygoing old guy who seems to like people and enjoys a good scratching. Here’s a side note about rhinos: the “white” and “black” rhino species are really misnomers. White rhinos are called such because of a misinterpretation of the Afrikaans word for “wide”, referring to its wide mouth, used for grazing on grass. The black rhino, while not particularly darker in color, has a narrow mouth and a prehensile upper lip, used for eating leaves, twigs, and woody plants. Pete is of the “black” variety, and up close his lip is just the goofiest thing you can imagine. Unlike the rough leathery body, the lip is smooth and rubbery, and acts almost like a finger as he uses it to scoop up food. We offered him pieces of apple which he maneuvered from our cupped hands using that ridiculous appendage. As often as not, our whole hands would get sucked up into his mouth along with the fruit, but we were not in danger of being bitten. We were, however, in danger of being drowned in slobber. I’m telling you, I was wet up to the elbows!
After a final snapshot or two with Pete and a thorough hand washing, the tour ended and we all went our own ways to enjoy the remainder of the day. If this was where my story ended, if this was the end of my day, I’d have been incandescently happy. But there was more in store for me.
This being the day before Easter, the zoo had a variety of activities for families and kids, including egg hunts and face painting and the like. One thing I had noticed on a flier I was handed as we entered the zoo, was that at 12:45 there was to be a drawing which would allow a few lucky winners the opportunity to hide Easter treats for the elephants. When we left the rhino barn, it was already 12:30, and I had to hustle to find the place where I could enter the contest. After a brief wait, a local radio DJ commenced pulling names from the basket, while I sat down and reviewed the schedule, planning to go see the polar bears receive their goodie baskets. I was shocked when I heard my name called a few minutes later. Are you kidding me?! This morning I got to pet and feed a giraffe, two hippos and a rhino, and now I get to go into the elephant enclosure?? This is unbelievable!
Our group of perhaps twenty winners headed to the back of the elephant barn, and were let into the paddock. I expected that the elephants would have been taken into the barn, and then let out again once we were safely outside. I figured wrong. The three female elephants were lined up obediently at one end of the enclosure, while we proceeded to hide apple and sweet potato pieces in all of the nooks and crannies of the walls or lightly buried in the dirt. The zookeepers encouraged us to challenge the elephants a bit, and I was happy to oblige. (Anyone who has endured my Easter egg hiding skills can relate.)
After we had hidden the loot, the humans were asked to return to one area of the enclosure, and the elephants were then led out to “center stage.” After performing a series of tricks, including lying down, sitting up, and saluting, the ladies were released to look for the food. The keepers then asked if we’d like our pictures taken with an elephant. They had to ask?! They drew a line in the dirt and had us approach one person (or one family) at a time and stand on the line. They would then lead one of the elephants up behind us and have it pose for the shot. I ended up with Chendra, a rather small adult female, in my photo. (She’s the one that makes most visitors say, “Oh, look at the baby!” but she’s actually an adult that was malnourished as a youngster and is consequently maybe 2/3 the size of the other females.) After the picture was taken, I looked over my shoulder and found that she was perhaps 3 feet away from me. Gasp!
When I arrived home, still positively grinning and floating on air, I returned a call from Beth and related the experience to her. Oddly enough, her response was what I had been thinking all day: “Jesus loves you, Lisa!” Throughout the morning as I was able to partake of His glorious creation, and especially when my name was drawn for the elephant experience, I couldn’t help but feel like the Lord was saying, “The doors are open for you today, my love. Come. Experience my creation. Taste and see that I am good.” In the midst of a season in which my faith has felt transient and contrived, this was a welcome blessing indeed.
Jesus speaks to Chris through bears (and through deers in the past) and to Lanette via hearts, but here was my love letter. So for me, this weekend wasn’t so much Easter as it was Valentines Day. Amen.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Simon is a genius!
In case you missed Angeleen's semi-recent post of the side-splitting animated escpade of a cat trying to wake his owner --or in case you already saw it but need a good laugh-- here it is in all its comical glory.
I just discovered a new short animated film by Simon Tofield, and present it to you for your viewing pleasure. Seriously, this guy KNOWS cats and all of their mischievous and charming ways... :o)
I just discovered a new short animated film by Simon Tofield, and present it to you for your viewing pleasure. Seriously, this guy KNOWS cats and all of their mischievous and charming ways... :o)
Friday, February 29, 2008
Fun Fact for Friday
The "Real Fact #96" from the inside of my Snapple lid says, "The average American will eat 35,000 cookies during his/her lifetime."
Last I heard, the life expectancy for a woman in the US is up to 78 years, so that would mean an annual average of 448.7 cookies. Break it down further, and that's 1.2 cookies per day. We all know what happens when you break open a bag of Double Stuff Oreos, so not only do I find the statistic of 35,000 believable, but I'm also thinking that I am *not* one of those folks bringing the average down. :o)
Last I heard, the life expectancy for a woman in the US is up to 78 years, so that would mean an annual average of 448.7 cookies. Break it down further, and that's 1.2 cookies per day. We all know what happens when you break open a bag of Double Stuff Oreos, so not only do I find the statistic of 35,000 believable, but I'm also thinking that I am *not* one of those folks bringing the average down. :o)
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
One Poor Sonnet
Bethy McBethles has posted recently about her escape from the stresses of life - extraordinarily more stressful as of late - into the world of entertainment. I, too, divert myself down this path, however not into the world of action (ala 'Prison Break') or snarky medical dramas (ala 'House').
I used to have two comfort movies - the flicks to which I ran away over and over, depending on my mood. When I needed reassurance that there is still good in a broken world, I watched 'Babe.' When James Cromwell says, "That'll do, Pig... That'll do," give me a tissue and somehow life is alright again.
When I needed to vent my cheekiness or ire, I'd rely on the crass 'A Fish Called Wanda' for its brilliant British wit, not to mention Kevin Kline in perhaps his best role ever. And I'm sorry, Beth, but even if the Monty Python boys are getting a bit geriatric, John Cleese and Michael Palin still do it for me. ;o)
Nowadays, my comfort movie has become the (2005) Keira Knightly version of 'Pride & Prejudice.' While I still love the (1995) Colin Firth version, Keira has won me over with her portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet. Plus Donald Sutherland, in a surprisingly wonderful role for him, can make me weep happy tears like none other. Who woulda thunk it? (sniff)
I'm too exhausted from my real life romantic woes (or lack thereof) to expound much on the story behind it, but here's my favorite scene from the movie, following Mr.Darcy's rude dismissal of Elizabeth at the ball:
Lizzie: I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?
Darcy: I thought that poetry was the food of love?
Lizzie: Of a fine, stout love it may, but if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.
Darcy: So what do you recommend to encourage affection?
Lizzie: Dancing... even if one's partner is barely tolerable.
Just the look alone on Keira's face as she bows to Darcy and walks away following that last remark should have earned her the Oscar. The rest - the stellar cast and beautiful story - is just icing on the cake. I also still marvel at the scene at the long awaited Netherfield ball. I haven't timed it, although it must be a good 10-15 minutes, and it always makes me drop whatever I'm doing to stop and gawk. There is one long continuous shot, weaving through the rooms of this English manor, and picking up the dialogue and subtle actions of about a dozen principle players. The execution of that scene is flawless and a cinematic marvel.
Then there's also the WORST marriage proposal EVER. Seriously, it will make you cringe. See, there's just so much to love about this movie. If you haven't seen it already, I *highly* recommend that you pick up a copy and sit down some quiet afternoon or evening to enjoy a delightful retelling of Jane Austen's beloved novel.
I've rambled long enough now, so I'll sign off before I'm tempted to type the script verbatim.
That'll do, Lisa... That'll do. :o)
I used to have two comfort movies - the flicks to which I ran away over and over, depending on my mood. When I needed reassurance that there is still good in a broken world, I watched 'Babe.' When James Cromwell says, "That'll do, Pig... That'll do," give me a tissue and somehow life is alright again.
When I needed to vent my cheekiness or ire, I'd rely on the crass 'A Fish Called Wanda' for its brilliant British wit, not to mention Kevin Kline in perhaps his best role ever. And I'm sorry, Beth, but even if the Monty Python boys are getting a bit geriatric, John Cleese and Michael Palin still do it for me. ;o)
Nowadays, my comfort movie has become the (2005) Keira Knightly version of 'Pride & Prejudice.' While I still love the (1995) Colin Firth version, Keira has won me over with her portrayal of Elizabeth Bennet. Plus Donald Sutherland, in a surprisingly wonderful role for him, can make me weep happy tears like none other. Who woulda thunk it? (sniff)
I'm too exhausted from my real life romantic woes (or lack thereof) to expound much on the story behind it, but here's my favorite scene from the movie, following Mr.Darcy's rude dismissal of Elizabeth at the ball:
Lizzie: I wonder who first discovered the power of poetry in driving away love?
Darcy: I thought that poetry was the food of love?
Lizzie: Of a fine, stout love it may, but if it is only a vague inclination I'm convinced one poor sonnet will kill it stone dead.
Darcy: So what do you recommend to encourage affection?
Lizzie: Dancing... even if one's partner is barely tolerable.
Just the look alone on Keira's face as she bows to Darcy and walks away following that last remark should have earned her the Oscar. The rest - the stellar cast and beautiful story - is just icing on the cake. I also still marvel at the scene at the long awaited Netherfield ball. I haven't timed it, although it must be a good 10-15 minutes, and it always makes me drop whatever I'm doing to stop and gawk. There is one long continuous shot, weaving through the rooms of this English manor, and picking up the dialogue and subtle actions of about a dozen principle players. The execution of that scene is flawless and a cinematic marvel.
Then there's also the WORST marriage proposal EVER. Seriously, it will make you cringe. See, there's just so much to love about this movie. If you haven't seen it already, I *highly* recommend that you pick up a copy and sit down some quiet afternoon or evening to enjoy a delightful retelling of Jane Austen's beloved novel.
I've rambled long enough now, so I'll sign off before I'm tempted to type the script verbatim.
That'll do, Lisa... That'll do. :o)
Friday, January 18, 2008
Some things never change...
In the last weeks, which have been framed with the dissolution of a dear friend’s marriage (not to mention three other marriages in crisis amongst my friends and acquaintances), the sickening news of the allegedly successful cloning of human embryos and their subsequent destruction, and other challenging circumstances which I have been calling “a big bag of ugly,” it’s nice to know that some things remain unchanged. I still suck at video games.
This may sound absurd, but I had actually convinced myself that once I got to try Will and Ben’s new Wii, I would discover that this new kinesthetic style of play suited me infinitely better than just sitting around with the old analog controllers or joysticks. Not so. I still lack the hand-eye coordination necessary to defeat even a child… although in the boys’ case, they are quite skilled. I think that possibly a one-eyed cat playing with its tail might be able to beat me. Had I actually turned out to have some mad “cow racing” or “tanks” or “ping pong” skills, I’d be afraid that the sun was going to explode. Or stranger still, that the Cubs might win the World Series. I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief. There’s no reason to panic, folks.
Though this is all quite tongue in cheek, there were a couple of simple joys that made this week easier to endure. Last week, the betta who shared my desk for the past 2-3 years passed away, leaving my office feeling bereft of life, and really was the final “emotional straw” that day. Normally I’d just say, “Aw, poor little thing” and move on, but I actually grieved that beautiful creature. Last night, after 9 days sans betta, I went to the store and picked out a new one. And this morning when I brought him to my office and set up his bowl, I was beaming like a proud parent.
The other joy –and yes, you may laugh at my geekdom– is that the release date for Battlestar Galactica Season 3 on dvd was FINALLY announced. March 25th, baby! Seeing as the release date was supposed to be last August (according to a post on Bear McCreary’s website), when I saw the “official” date announcement, I was positively giddy. If I was a puppy, I would have peed on the rug in my exuberance. If I was a cylon puppy, I still would have peed, but not because it was a biological necessity… just a design component to make me seem more realistic. Clever cylon bastards.
Anyhow, I find it appropriate to end a completely nonsensical post such as this with an equally nonsensical Norwegian proverb: He who shall, so shall he who.
Remember that, folks. That’s deep stuff.
This may sound absurd, but I had actually convinced myself that once I got to try Will and Ben’s new Wii, I would discover that this new kinesthetic style of play suited me infinitely better than just sitting around with the old analog controllers or joysticks. Not so. I still lack the hand-eye coordination necessary to defeat even a child… although in the boys’ case, they are quite skilled. I think that possibly a one-eyed cat playing with its tail might be able to beat me. Had I actually turned out to have some mad “cow racing” or “tanks” or “ping pong” skills, I’d be afraid that the sun was going to explode. Or stranger still, that the Cubs might win the World Series. I think we can all breathe a sigh of relief. There’s no reason to panic, folks.
Though this is all quite tongue in cheek, there were a couple of simple joys that made this week easier to endure. Last week, the betta who shared my desk for the past 2-3 years passed away, leaving my office feeling bereft of life, and really was the final “emotional straw” that day. Normally I’d just say, “Aw, poor little thing” and move on, but I actually grieved that beautiful creature. Last night, after 9 days sans betta, I went to the store and picked out a new one. And this morning when I brought him to my office and set up his bowl, I was beaming like a proud parent.
The other joy –and yes, you may laugh at my geekdom– is that the release date for Battlestar Galactica Season 3 on dvd was FINALLY announced. March 25th, baby! Seeing as the release date was supposed to be last August (according to a post on Bear McCreary’s website), when I saw the “official” date announcement, I was positively giddy. If I was a puppy, I would have peed on the rug in my exuberance. If I was a cylon puppy, I still would have peed, but not because it was a biological necessity… just a design component to make me seem more realistic. Clever cylon bastards.
Anyhow, I find it appropriate to end a completely nonsensical post such as this with an equally nonsensical Norwegian proverb: He who shall, so shall he who.
Remember that, folks. That’s deep stuff.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)