Dear Everyone Who Lives In My House,
Have you ever noticed how when you open the refrigerator door, you always find things in the same place? Beverages are on the top shelf; everything in tubs (margarine, cream cheese, yogurt, etc) is on the second shelf next to the eggs; cheese and lunchmeats are in the drawer; leftovers are on the third shelf; bread products (tortillas included!) are on the forth shelf; fruit is in the fruit draw; vegetables are in the veggie drawer; condiments (i.e., everything in jars and bottles) are in the door.
Easy peasy, right? Everytime you open the door, you know right where to look for what you want. Amazingly, you grasp the inherent order when you are LOOKING for something, but it completely escapes you when it comes time to put something back. How can that be?
I know I don't have to rearrange the damn refrigerator every single day. I realize it's my choice to do it and we'd all live if I left it in disarray. But come on, people, how freaking hard would it be to put something back where you found it? Even you, orderly little German girl. You can spend 2 minutes each evening pairing up our shoes and lining them up in size order every evening, but you can't put the ketchup back in the empty spot in the door? You can do it. I know you can!
Sincerely,
Me
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
CREEPY!!!!
Yep. That's the theme of my week. C R E E P Y! It all started with a bizarre passive agressive e-mail from my longtime kinda stalker. If you know me well, you know the story, and I'm not going to rehash it here. But suffice it to say, those of you who helped me compose my response, that he didn't reply to it. I'm hoping that whole phase of my life is tied up with a bow--all official- like. (YIKES!)
(edited: I've just returned to revisit the above paragraph because if my alleged longtime kinda stalker were to read this, the wording would be unnecessarily cruel. in truth, he never technically stalked me--it was just an awkward and one-sided friendship. However, I decided on second thought to leave it as is, because in the event he does read this, he might be stalking me after all, and that changes everything. . .)
But that's not the creepiest thing that happened at the Czarnecki house his week. No it's not! However, since I can never tell a short story, I'll have to provide a little background.
A couple of weeks ago, Davy, the girls, and I were out trying to fly a kite when we discovered a big patch of milkweed. I thought it would be fun to see if we could find piece with a couple of monarch eggs on it that the we could raise and release. I spied a piece with an egg, picked it, and took it home. Little did I know, the plant was host to several already hatched microscopic caterpillars and we ended up with seven of the suckers. It might not sound like that many, but until you've tried to keep seven hungry monarch caterpillars supplied with fresh milkweed, I respectfully ask you to withhold your judgement!
In order to raise the seven cats, which turned out to be at different points in their development, I had to go out and buy several additional containers. I've also been making daily trips to random fields to gather more milkweed. Finally, yesterday, we had our first pupation! The two larger caterpillars attached themselves to the top of the container and formed the tell-tale "J" that monarchs make before they split off their skin for the last time and form their chrysallis. We were actually able to watch one of them do it, and it was bizarre, to say the least. The hanging caterpillar writhes and wiggles and pulses for about five minutes as its skin splits off. Then the caterpillar innards emerge in a gelatinous green glop that somehow hardens into a glittering chrysalis over the next hour or so.
Now, maybe you think that's the creepy part, but you'd be wrong. While those two big guys were forming their "J" and shedding their skins, a much smaller caterpillar started the same process. He attached himself to the top of the container and formed his "J" and . . . then . . . nothing. Normally, if you approach a monarch caterpillar in the "J," he will wiggle and do what appear to be little caterpillar sit-ups. But not this guy. He just hung there. After awhile, his "J" became and "I" and we were pretty sure he was dead. We considered a few possible explanations for his demise (maybe he attached himself too soon and he still needed to eat, but he couldn't move so he starved?) and then decided to check the Internet. After a few fruitless Google searches ("monarch caterpillar J too soon" "little monarch caterpillar J") I finally hit gold with "monarch caterpillar J dead." It turns out there's a parasitic fly called the tachnid fly that lays its eggs on the skin of very young butterfly and moth larvae. The resulting fly larvae burrow into the caterpillar's skin and wait there. They feed on non-essential tissues and grow with the host. The host continues to live normally until the tachinid fly larvae begin to feed on essential tissues and kill the host. Somehow the larvae cue the caterpillar to begin his pupation early. After the caterpillar dies, they emerge from the caterpillar's body.
After I read this, I immediately removed the dead hanging caterpillar from the communal container and stuck him in something else, just in case. And this morning we awoke just in time to watch as the tachnid maggot emerged from the caterpillar's dead body. Blech, blech, blech. Yes, I understand all about the circle of life, but that, my friends, was truly creepy.
Yep. That's the theme of my week. C R E E P Y! It all started with a bizarre passive agressive e-mail from my longtime kinda stalker. If you know me well, you know the story, and I'm not going to rehash it here. But suffice it to say, those of you who helped me compose my response, that he didn't reply to it. I'm hoping that whole phase of my life is tied up with a bow--all official- like. (YIKES!)
(edited: I've just returned to revisit the above paragraph because if my alleged longtime kinda stalker were to read this, the wording would be unnecessarily cruel. in truth, he never technically stalked me--it was just an awkward and one-sided friendship. However, I decided on second thought to leave it as is, because in the event he does read this, he might be stalking me after all, and that changes everything. . .)
But that's not the creepiest thing that happened at the Czarnecki house his week. No it's not! However, since I can never tell a short story, I'll have to provide a little background.
A couple of weeks ago, Davy, the girls, and I were out trying to fly a kite when we discovered a big patch of milkweed. I thought it would be fun to see if we could find piece with a couple of monarch eggs on it that the we could raise and release. I spied a piece with an egg, picked it, and took it home. Little did I know, the plant was host to several already hatched microscopic caterpillars and we ended up with seven of the suckers. It might not sound like that many, but until you've tried to keep seven hungry monarch caterpillars supplied with fresh milkweed, I respectfully ask you to withhold your judgement!
In order to raise the seven cats, which turned out to be at different points in their development, I had to go out and buy several additional containers. I've also been making daily trips to random fields to gather more milkweed. Finally, yesterday, we had our first pupation! The two larger caterpillars attached themselves to the top of the container and formed the tell-tale "J" that monarchs make before they split off their skin for the last time and form their chrysallis. We were actually able to watch one of them do it, and it was bizarre, to say the least. The hanging caterpillar writhes and wiggles and pulses for about five minutes as its skin splits off. Then the caterpillar innards emerge in a gelatinous green glop that somehow hardens into a glittering chrysalis over the next hour or so.
Now, maybe you think that's the creepy part, but you'd be wrong. While those two big guys were forming their "J" and shedding their skins, a much smaller caterpillar started the same process. He attached himself to the top of the container and formed his "J" and . . . then . . . nothing. Normally, if you approach a monarch caterpillar in the "J," he will wiggle and do what appear to be little caterpillar sit-ups. But not this guy. He just hung there. After awhile, his "J" became and "I" and we were pretty sure he was dead. We considered a few possible explanations for his demise (maybe he attached himself too soon and he still needed to eat, but he couldn't move so he starved?) and then decided to check the Internet. After a few fruitless Google searches ("monarch caterpillar J too soon" "little monarch caterpillar J") I finally hit gold with "monarch caterpillar J dead." It turns out there's a parasitic fly called the tachnid fly that lays its eggs on the skin of very young butterfly and moth larvae. The resulting fly larvae burrow into the caterpillar's skin and wait there. They feed on non-essential tissues and grow with the host. The host continues to live normally until the tachinid fly larvae begin to feed on essential tissues and kill the host. Somehow the larvae cue the caterpillar to begin his pupation early. After the caterpillar dies, they emerge from the caterpillar's body.
After I read this, I immediately removed the dead hanging caterpillar from the communal container and stuck him in something else, just in case. And this morning we awoke just in time to watch as the tachnid maggot emerged from the caterpillar's dead body. Blech, blech, blech. Yes, I understand all about the circle of life, but that, my friends, was truly creepy.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Can't Stop Laughing. . . .
I posted the following on a message board I frequent. My sentiment was, as I think you'll recognize, somewhat facetious.
"I've reached an all-time personal low. Yes, I know it's completely pathetic.Yes, I know I'm part of the problem.But I actually just logged on to the internet to find out whether Anna Nicole Smith's daughter's paternity results have been announced.I can't believe the depths to which I have sunk."
Okay, well, it was mostly facetious. I did actually log on to find out the results (which have not yet been posted), and I am not proud of it. But as for it being my all-time personal low? Well that may have been an exaggeration.
In any event, I received the following response almost immediately:
"You sound bored with your life. I was telling my dd yesterday that as she goes through this life, she needs to live it not just sit back and watch it go by but participate in it. I suggested keeping a list, or jar, or whatever, with a list of things that she wants to do and picking one thing each year and accomplishing that thing. Maybe that way she would spend more time trying to accomplish the things that she wants to do and therefore will be living her life. Just a thought."
Oh my. I guess I need to go get a jar. Or whatever.
I posted the following on a message board I frequent. My sentiment was, as I think you'll recognize, somewhat facetious.
"I've reached an all-time personal low. Yes, I know it's completely pathetic.Yes, I know I'm part of the problem.But I actually just logged on to the internet to find out whether Anna Nicole Smith's daughter's paternity results have been announced.I can't believe the depths to which I have sunk."
Okay, well, it was mostly facetious. I did actually log on to find out the results (which have not yet been posted), and I am not proud of it. But as for it being my all-time personal low? Well that may have been an exaggeration.
In any event, I received the following response almost immediately:
"You sound bored with your life. I was telling my dd yesterday that as she goes through this life, she needs to live it not just sit back and watch it go by but participate in it. I suggested keeping a list, or jar, or whatever, with a list of things that she wants to do and picking one thing each year and accomplishing that thing. Maybe that way she would spend more time trying to accomplish the things that she wants to do and therefore will be living her life. Just a thought."
Oh my. I guess I need to go get a jar. Or whatever.
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