Parakeet Lost

Ok, so first and foremost, let me begin by offering an excuse for the unacceptable upkeep of my blog. My work recently implemented a very strict "no internet" policy. Apparently the bulk of my blog time was concentrated at work, as evidenced by my two month gaps between posts. So while there are many things for me to post about from these last few months, I'll begin by sharing a tragic story of love and loss, as requested by Meghan.

Jason's birthday was in the beginning of February. I had given the boys a few simple ideas of what he may want for his birthday, and asked them to try and think of some of their own ideas as well. However, after a family outing to the pet store for some fish food (during which Jason showed some interest in the birds), the kids had made their minds up. They wanted to get him a pet bird. I should mention here that I am actually not a fan of birds. At all. There is just something about a small creature that is both capable of "fluttering" and "pecking" at the same time that terrifies me. Oh yeah, and the talons. I don't like talons. However, much to my dismay, the kids would not be swayed in their idea. And since I knew that Jason really did want one, I gave in.

And thus, the plan was set in motion. Caleb and Jacob and I ventured out to the pet store about a week before his birthday. We spent a while reading all the "Must-Knows for Parakeets" pamphlets, then proceeded to pick out the perfect cage and accessories. On the day of Jason's birthday, we hid the cage in one of our bathtubs, and then led him all over the house on a hunt for his present. When he finally found it, the kids had made cards and put them inside the cage explaining that we would take him to the store to pick out his own bird.

Luckily, Jason was thrilled with the idea, and we immediately piled into the car- all of us in eager anticipation of our new pet-to-be (well, most of us anyway). After debating for an unbelievably long time, Jason finally settled on a grey and black parakeet (while trying to upload my pictures to my computer recently, I accidentally deleted them all instead... so this is not our actual bird, just a close resemblance). With the help of the kids, he named him Grundy. For those of you that do not live with a house full of comic book boys, Grundy is DC Universe's super-strong, zombified, mobster villain. You can see the likeness, I'm sure.

And so began our new life as bird owners...

When we got Grundy home, he was quick to warm up to us and eager to explore our apartment. (All those "Must-Knows For Parakeets" had told us that it's important to let your bird out of his cage for at least half an hour a day). Day by day, little Grundy seemed to feel more and more comfortable in his new home, and even began to perch on our fingers or shoulders on his own will. I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was growing to like Grundy as well. I still don't like birds, but Grundy was ok in my book.

Then came that fateful day, only four days after bringing home the new addition to our family. Jason and I were the only ones home, and Grundy was freely exploring the apartment. Jason asked me to keep and eye on him for a few minutes while he went and took a shower. I nodded a quick "sure, yeah, whatever..." and went about my business. Grundy was peacefully perched atop our windowsill, and I was a mere 10-20 feet away finishing up the dishes.

Approximately 4 minutes after Jason had entrusted his dear new pet to my care, I heard a very brief fluttering of wings. I glanced up to check on Grundy's whereabouts, but couldn't seem to find him anywhere. After a few short moments of panic and confusion, I heard a tremendous splashing sound come from our fish aquarium, and looked to find our two largest fish flopping and flailing about in mortal fear of some unknown cause. Upon closer inspection, I was horrified to find Grundy frantically swimming laps along the top of the tank, seemingly trying to escape from the hysterical, gargantuan bala sharks below.

In the fleeting moments that followed, I mustered my inner heroic instincts and scooped Grundy out of the tank. I was sitting on the couch and cradling him in a towel when Jason emerged only 10 minutes after leaving me alone with the poor bird. His eyes darted from me, to Grundy, to the towel, to the open fish tank. Suspicion set in.

I explained what had happened, and promised that Grundy's "accident" had absolutely nothing to do with my prior avian-directed hatred. Grundy seemed more or less ok after the event, if not slightly lethargic. I tried to stress the heroic part of my story to Jason while placing Grundy back into his cage. Thinking all was well, and assured that disaster had been avoided, we headed off to work. We came home that night to find Grundy on the bottom of his cage... very dead.

I've maintained my innocence in the days following the loss of Grundy, despite great scepticism and accusations from those around me. According to the kids, "Molly defeated Daddy's birthday present" (Jason doesn't like them to say "kill" or any other such related words... it's always "Batman defeated Joker"... "Molly defeated Grundy"...etc.).

Shortly after the above events transpired, we headed back to the pet store for a second try as bird owners. This time Jason picked a yellow and green one (this picture is actually him), and together with the kids settled on the name Loki. Loki is Marvel Universe's adopted brother and enemy of Thor... just in case you didn't know. Again, the resemblance is uncanny.

I'm proud to say that Loki has been with us for over a month now with no incident. While I have lost some of my previous privileges, I have been granted supervised visits due to good behavior.

Roundtable Friday

Despite the fact that my brain has felt like exploding recently due to over use, I can’t seem to think of a single interesting thing to blog about. So for that reason, I’m going to ask anyone out there that may be reading this to answer a few questions that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while. They are random and in no way related to each other (other than the fact that they have all crossed my mind in recent days), but perhaps if someone out there can provide any answers and lay these fleeting queries to rest, then my brain will have slightly more room to think of something blogworthy.

1. How does one efficiently grocery shop for all needed items using coupons and store deals, without spending a straight week organizing said coupons, documenting said sales, and drawing up detailed blue prints of the grocery store layout? I have been trying to find my niche in this area, and I am failing miserably. I have always loved lists, and can organize with the best of ‘em, but this task has proven to be far more overwhelming than I ever imagined. Does anyone out there have any tips or magical systems for this that I could possibly use to my advantage?

2. Is it possible to make my blog prettier and break away from the standard Blogger layouts without actually paying for a new layout? Is there a certain site that people are going to that I just don’t know about? Or are all the people out there with pretty blogs just less cheap than myself and are actually paying for them?

3. How much would you pay someone to come and paint a mural on your wall? I realize the answer to this one may differ greatly depending on wall size and mural size… so for the sake of the question, let’s just say it’s a one wall mural, and takes up approximately ¾ of the standard household-sized wall. Any ball park idea of what a fair price would be for commissioned work?

4. In the end of Reservoir Dogs, did Mr. Pink die too?

5. What is tapioca made of? Really?

Thank you very much for your assistance in these matters. Perhaps if this works well I'll make it a regular Friday thing, as I spend most of my time somewhat confused and in need of answers.

For Just A Day

Today is my dad’s birthday. He passed away 7 years ago, and while I miss him deeply, I take an abundant amount of comfort in knowing that he is experiencing something now that truly makes me envious. Yet, I would be lying to say that there aren’t certain days, or moments, which make me feel the ache of missing him a little more than others.

I would never wish upon him this broken world that he’s left behind, or the broken body that he’s free of now. But I do sometimes wish he could come hang out for a just day or two. I wish he would have had the chance to meet my nieces. I know that he would take absolute joy in them. I love to picture the delight in his eyes, and the childish grin he’d be unable to contain while doting on them.

I want him to meet the man I married, and spend a day watching football together with him. I want Caleb and Jacob to go fishing with him.

I wish he could see the grace with which Meghan has grown into her role of mother, and shake hands with the godly man that she’s committed herself to. I want him see how selfless Chad is in everything he does, and see what an honorable man, father, husband, and brother he is. I want to hear him laugh with Matt, and see how excited he gets for the things that he’s passionate about.

I want to draw with him. I want him to see the Jelly Bean Machine that Chad made for me for Christmas. I want him to watch Meghan with her girls, and to see her finish a triathlon. I want him to recognize his own sense of humor and sparkle mirrored in Matt’s eyes. I want him to see the ways that he’s woven into each of us, and I want to tell him how proud it makes me to know that I’m his daughter.

I know the value of dwelling in the joy of where he’s at, rather than hanging on the ache of where he no longer is. Still, it brings a smile to my face to wish for just a day or two, bittersweet as that wish may be. And if I’m really going to be honest with myself, a tinge of that bittersweet ache may be due more in part to my jealousy than to his absence; because as much as I long to invite him into my world for just a day, oh how much greater it would be to be invited into his world- to see that what he’s seeing- for just a day.

...oh, that's where I left my blog...

Oh my goodness, I haven’t posted anything in over a month. How did that happen? I know I’m new to this blogging thing, but I think it’s safe to say that I am more of a January-November blogger, rather than the year-round type. So, in the interest of not writing a whole novel to make up for lost posts, I think I’ll dabble in the art of picture story to recap some of this past month’s highlights…


As the rest of the country has been pounded with snowstorms and cold fronts, Colorado seems to have been having ridiculously mild weather. Our first real snow storm did not even hit the Denver Metro area until the very end of November. As someone who spends all year eagerly awaiting winter, naturally I have been disappointed. But, here’s a picture off our balcony of our first snow in our new apartment!


Ironically, this storm hit us the same weekend we had scheduled to go pick out a tree to bring home and decorate. It was a very cold day, and Jason was having much less fun than this picture would suggest… (Caleb was cheering because we had finally settled on a tree and could go home).

We then spent the night decorating and making Christmas cookies.

Jacob made three valiant attempts to place the star on top of the tree before Jason finally gave in and did it for him.

My favorite highlight of the month was when my friend lost her job. Wait, that makes me sound like a jerk. Nope, I definitely meant it. Miss Annabella, I am so glad that you lost your job and had to move home sooner than expected! A year and a half is far too long to live in a different time zone than you.

The week before Christmas, we spent one cold night at Zoo Lights with my family. It was very cold. Denver Zoo’s website assures that they offer plenty of inside attractions, warming stations, and hot cocoa/cider for the weary and weather-worn masses. This is a generous description. In reality, there were 2 very small warming stations, limited inside attractions (all of which were packed and smelled of hippo dung or other pachyderm matter), and the cider came in really cool insulated cups that radiated no heat whatsoever. However, despite this paragraph having sounded a lot like whining and complaining, we really had a lot of fun. Cold fun.

Christmas morning found us at my parents’ house eating our traditional “Christmas Eggs” for breakfast. I don’t think I have ever experienced a Christmas morning without my mom’s Christmas Eggs, and I don’t ever intend to. We stayed there for a while doing a gift exchange and enjoying each other’s company, then headed home to do our gift exchange with the boys. Jason’s mom got to come over and spend the evening with us, and even made some of her famous chili. My mom’s Christmas eggs… Jason’s mom’s chili… all in one day! I don’t think it gets any better than that.

And that brings me just about up to date. I’ve got about 20 other posts flying around my head (yes Annabel, that includes the unfinished “Ode to Bella”), but those can wait for 2009. I hope you all have had a fantastic month!

The Ebb and Flow of Creative Juices

I’m currently reading The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay by Michael Chabon. First and foremost, let me just say that I love this book and would highly recommend it. In short, it’s the story of two cousins- one from New York, the other from Prague, both Jewish- and their success as pioneers in the comic book industry in America during WWII. For those that are not at all interested in comic books, I assure you this book is still fascinating and well worth reading.

The other night I was reading and came to a line that I just loved and that so resonated with me. It’s a scene early on in the book, while the main characters are still just young boys dreaming of creating their own comic book. One character, Joe, had just masterfully scaled the fire escape of an empty New York apartment building, and his cousin looked on…

"As he watched Joe stand, blazing, on the fire escape, Sammy felt an ache in his chest that turned out to be, as so often occurs when memory and desire conjoin with a transient effect of weather, the pang of creation. "

I love that line. I love it because I so understand it. I know that pang and that ache in my chest to simply create. I think this is a God-given desire, regardless of the gifts or talents He has given us. I fully believe that he has fashioned us after His own heart, and that His heart is the heart of a true Creator.

Whatever our ability may be, we all possess the desire to create. One person may make music, while another can capture a blazing sunset within the confines of a painted canvas. One person can produce ideas and methods that push the flow of business, while another person can cultivate a warm and welcoming environment that invites the cold and hungry. One may master a pencil and sketchpad; another may master the kitchen and culinary world. This world is full of thinkers and writers and visionaries and inventors and crafters and dreamers, and regardless of what means we utilize, our end is always a creation of sorts.

Lately I've really been feeling that pang- that ache to use any and all the gifts God gave me and just make something of it. I want a job that I enjoy and that provides me an outlet for my passions (don't we all). I want to draw or write or paint. I want to scrapbook; I want to blog; I want to write a novel. I want to be a published children's book illustrator. I want to learn to cook, and I want to make something worthy of selling in a Christmas craft fair. My problem is that I want to do them all, I want to do them well, and I want to do them simultaneously. The end result is this spewing volcano of creative desire that will probably erupt into one solid week of hibernating and trying to accomplish all at once, followed by an extremely deflated and exhausted me that is devoid of any creative inclinations whatsoever.

Anyone else out there go through these same cycles, or is it just me?

Does Anyone Else Think This Is Funny?

Ok, so normally I really try to avoid using things like WebMD as it tends to cause me unreasonable amounts of paranoia. One moment I'm experiencing mild cold symptoms, the next I'm convinced that I've contracted some rare form of Mongolian baht fly virus, mad cow disease, or any other number of ailments containing an animal name prefix and an -itis suffix. However the other night at work I couldn't resist doing a little research on some worrisome symptoms my friend was experiencing.

For those not familiar with WebMD, allow me to provide a brief overview... After clicking on the pale little man labeled "symptom checker", you're directed to click on the specific portion of your body that is giving you trouble. It then proceeds to present you with a ridiculously long list of possible symptoms (most of which will make you feel much better, by comparison, about your current complaint or illness). While you scan the list and select all symptoms that apply to you, WebMD compiles a list of all possible diseases, syndromes, disorders, etc. However some of the symptoms you select will then prompt you to provide a more in depth description. The following screenshot is one I came across the other night:

In case that's a little too hard to read, that does in fact say "encounter with an octopus in the south Pacific".

On a side note- my friend went to the real doctor a few days later and found that she has neither Mongolian baht fly virus nor mad cow disease. She's feeling much better, in fact.

A Word About Daylight Savings

I used to love the “Fall Back” time of year. Seriously, what’s not to love?

Here’s what’s not to love:

Clocks go back an hour at 2:00am. I work an 8-hour swing shift that ends at 2:00am. Therefore, as I sat here tonight nearing the end of my shift and watching that final minute pass from 1:59 to 2:00-- the minute that generally signals my freedom and all-around happiness-- something terrible happened instead. I have never felt as defeated as when I witnessed 1:59am become 1:00am. I imagine this may be what Hell is like (this, and also an eternity of trying to match Tupperware lids to their proper bowls).

I used to hate “Spring Forward” day. Oh how I miss those days…