Last week, after Christmas, the teenagers and I traveled down to see the Grandparents of No at their homestead. Upon arrival, I discovered that the Son of Never Stops Eating had left his deodorant at home.
Mom, he said, exasperated, I don't need deodorant! I'm on vacation!
That is life with teenagers, right there: teenagers are often odiferous attitude-filled buckets of sass and stress added to a substantial amount of idealism mixed in with the idea that everything worth knowing, they know and anyone over the age of 30 has forgotten. The whole mess is spiced up with a dash of believing that the generations before them have completely and irrevocably messed the place up and it's up to them to fix it as best they can (this generation of teenagers might actually be right about that; sorry, guys.)
On social media sites, it's often popular to bash teenagers as a group whenever something in the community goes awry- or even just for fun. Car doing doughnuts in the school parking lot? Must be teenagers. Danged teenagers have no respect; it's not like when we were growing up when even the thought of wrongdoing would earn us a whipping from our father and a public flogging in the town square. Vandalism? Teenagers. Rude, entitled behavior? Snowflake teenagers. Lazy with no work ethic whatsoever? Entitled teenagers. Crime of any kind? Definitely teenagers, with too much time on their hands. One teenager messes up, they're all to blame. Teenagers are viewed as the Borg Collective of humankind.
I'm sure that since the dawn of time, old geezers have been complaining about the young whippersnappers up to no good with their weird haircuts and odd fashion sense and their lack of work ethic and their strange ideas about almost any issue affecting humanity and, last but not least, their ability to sleep soundly until 2 PM and eat everything in sight that isn't frozen solid.
Adults are guilty of a lot of the same sins as teenagers, but we've lived longer and we should definitely know better- and no one blames adults as a group for the sins of one grownup. One entitled, rude adult is one entitled, rude adult; one entitled, rude teenager is to condemn every teenager walking the planet at this point in time.
Honestly, you couldn't pay me to be a teenager again for anything. If you're a teenaged girl, you can't dress correctly no matter what you wear. College tuition is a runaway freight train headed your way, your adults are probably nagging you about what you're going to do after high school, you're beginning to learn about stressful adult stuff like driving and working, everyone over the age of 30 automatically assumes you're up to no good any time you go anywhere in a group (or even by yourselves) and there's all kinds of pressure to do or not do. Being a teenager in the 1980's wasn't anywhere near as complicated as being a teenager in the late 2010's seems to be.
Yes, I know there are plenty of teenagers who manage to get themselves into big trouble. Adults manage to do that, too, but without the collective blame that teenager wrongdoing seems to create. I also know that there are plenty of teenagers getting up at the crack of dawn to go to band or athletic practice, spending their weekends working a part-time job, spending part of their summers doing good deeds, taking college-level classes, helping with the care of older and/or disabled family members, and basically trying to get to adulthood without running their personal lives off the road too many times before that all-important 18th birthday.
So, for my teenagers-yes, I like to pester you about college and community service hours and saving your money and wearing deodorant and cleaning your rooms and driving (at least I don't have to nag about data usage anymore; thank you unlimited data plan!), but I also respect the serious amount of work that you're putting into your life. Being a teenager is serious, stressful stuff and I do respect it even if you think I don't. Now, go work on those scholarship applications.
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Saturday, December 30, 2017
The Marsh Project Week #5
It's cold out there. Really cold out there. I forgot gloves, so I had to stick my hands in my pockets when I wasn't trying to photograph critters and fungi. The temperature is supposed to drop even more tonight, and a few armadillos were out rustling around, probably preparing.
Birds were out, mostly in flight; they weren't hearing my pleas to be still so that I could get great photos. I don't have the kind of camera that takes great shots of birds in flight, and my hands were cold, so I had to mostly settle for standing in the blind and observing. An osprey flew overhead several times, as did a raptor I'm fairly certain was a red-tailed hawk although it wouldn't slow down enough for me to get a positive ID.
I did get to see my first common goldeneyes of the winter.
Since the critters weren't posing nicely, I kept an eye out for stationary lifeforms and was rewarded with this lovely fungus. I didn't want to stick my hands near the water to see if it had gills or pores on the other side, but my guess- having seen similar fungi before on this log- is going to be gills. I used the vibrant function of the camera to get this shot.
Then, back on the trail headed to the car and warmth, this beautiful ruby-crowned kinglet actually sat still for me long enough to get a photo. These birds are so cute but they almost are never still long enough for my neophyte nature photography skills, so this could be the best photo I've ever gotten of one. I kept thinking I was hearing woodpeckers but either they were hiding really well or it was really just branches moving around in the wind.
Seen on the trail today: Osprey, eastern phoebe, greater yellowlegs, mallards, gadwall, common goldeneyes, great blue herons, great egrets, a few small brown birds, unidentified raptor (probably red-tailed hawk but not sure), northern cardinals, armadillos, ruby crowned kinglets, and one brave turtle swimming near the surface of the water.
Birds were out, mostly in flight; they weren't hearing my pleas to be still so that I could get great photos. I don't have the kind of camera that takes great shots of birds in flight, and my hands were cold, so I had to mostly settle for standing in the blind and observing. An osprey flew overhead several times, as did a raptor I'm fairly certain was a red-tailed hawk although it wouldn't slow down enough for me to get a positive ID.
I did get to see my first common goldeneyes of the winter.
Since the critters weren't posing nicely, I kept an eye out for stationary lifeforms and was rewarded with this lovely fungus. I didn't want to stick my hands near the water to see if it had gills or pores on the other side, but my guess- having seen similar fungi before on this log- is going to be gills. I used the vibrant function of the camera to get this shot.
Then, back on the trail headed to the car and warmth, this beautiful ruby-crowned kinglet actually sat still for me long enough to get a photo. These birds are so cute but they almost are never still long enough for my neophyte nature photography skills, so this could be the best photo I've ever gotten of one. I kept thinking I was hearing woodpeckers but either they were hiding really well or it was really just branches moving around in the wind.
Seen on the trail today: Osprey, eastern phoebe, greater yellowlegs, mallards, gadwall, common goldeneyes, great blue herons, great egrets, a few small brown birds, unidentified raptor (probably red-tailed hawk but not sure), northern cardinals, armadillos, ruby crowned kinglets, and one brave turtle swimming near the surface of the water.
Sunday, December 24, 2017
The Marsh Project Week #4
The calm before the chaos.
It was a freezing morning to be outside. Even though I had on thick wool hiking socks my toes were still cold. Even the critters, for the most part, seemed to have holed up somewhere warmer, with a few notable exceptions- I saw a few deer as I drove to the trailhead parking lot, and even they stood at the edge of the road placidly staring at my car. A nutria/coypu swam across the marsh; a large flock of unidentified birds flew high in the sky on some undisclosed mission. The mallards, of course, were out in force.
This is Christmas Eve morning, and today there will be church (twice!) and last minute baking and errands and cleaning (Do we need more eggs? Did I get all the stocking stuffers? Who tracked in mud on the kitchen floor ? Oops, that was me!) until the sun sets, the stores close and the day is done; whatever stage the preparations are in, they will have to be sufficient.
But for now, in the early morning light, there is a quiet stillness as the day begins.
It was a freezing morning to be outside. Even though I had on thick wool hiking socks my toes were still cold. Even the critters, for the most part, seemed to have holed up somewhere warmer, with a few notable exceptions- I saw a few deer as I drove to the trailhead parking lot, and even they stood at the edge of the road placidly staring at my car. A nutria/coypu swam across the marsh; a large flock of unidentified birds flew high in the sky on some undisclosed mission. The mallards, of course, were out in force.
This is Christmas Eve morning, and today there will be church (twice!) and last minute baking and errands and cleaning (Do we need more eggs? Did I get all the stocking stuffers? Who tracked in mud on the kitchen floor ? Oops, that was me!) until the sun sets, the stores close and the day is done; whatever stage the preparations are in, they will have to be sufficient.
But for now, in the early morning light, there is a quiet stillness as the day begins.
Friday, December 22, 2017
Living the Middle Class Life
Many years ago, the Teenager got her first experience with taxes. She had saved up some money for a desired toy, and when we got to the store and found her heart's desire on the shelf I had to break the news to her that she actually didn't have enough money because she'd also have to pay sales tax and she only had enough money for the toy itself. She attempted to take out a loan from the Bank of Mom (the loan request was denied, on the basis of insufficient income and lack of credit history), and the entire episode ended in the classic "It's NOT FAIR! Kids shouldn't have to pay TAX!".
This past week, in between finalizing Christmas shopping, spending some time with friends, finishing up work for the week, watching the hilariousness of "Christmas Vacation" with the Son of Never Stops Eating, and going to the dentist, I've been trying to figure out what this new tax bill means for me. It's not the easiest thing in the world because I can't seem to find any information that gives just the facts; everything is either "DOOM! You are DOOMED! Run for the hills!" or "This is the greatest gift to the Middle Class of America since the invention of the TV remote control and the drive-thru restaurant!".
One article I read said that this bill means an extra $900 a year for the middle class. OK, I can use an extra $900. If that's actually true, because another article said that basically I'd be sending it all in, except maybe a small allowance for bread and water, and gas money to get to work. Apparently there's an increase in the child tax credit, but that isn't really helpful when your children are 17 and 15. I suspect I am not the only person who really isn't sure what happened to me here.
If this bill was meant to alleviate the angst of the middle class, or at least my angst, it fails. First, I don't mind paying taxes that much- sure, I like money, but I also like things like free public K-12 education, roads (except toll roads; those suck), parks, clean water coming out of my tap, knowing that if I call 911 someone will show up to help, and a functioning system of law and order. I don't mind handing over some of my money so that other people can have a safe place to live or that schoolchildren can have a hot lunch. I definitely don't agree with everything my tax dollars go to, but I don't see my tax burden as my biggest problem.
I looked at my pay stub for my final pay period of 2017, and realized that I've paid as much in health insurance premiums as I have in federal tax. Once you factor in all those co-pays, and deductibles, and "you pay 15% of the plan allowance if you use a preferred provider for a medical emergency", some years I probably pay a lot more. One year I had my gallbladder out as emergency surgery, and the anesthesiologist wasn't a "preferred provider". You should have checked, I was told. Sure, as I'm being wheeled to the OR. Oh, you're not a provider on my insurance? I don't need anesthesia. How about you just give me a bottle of whiskey and knock me out with a hammer instead? That was a big bill. If you really want to do a girl a favor, address the cost of medical care.
Or, this year I did my first FAFSA for The Teenager. The end result of that was basically "This is how much you make? Send it in!". College tuition is a fast moving train headed in my direction. Evidently for the next four years I'm allowed to pay my mortgage, my utilities, and buy food, and supposedly everything else is available for tuition. Then I have to figure out how to provide for the Son of Never Stops Eating; having a special needs child adds a whole new dimension to your financial planning. Last week I went to a transition fair and heard a presentation from a swanky new "Autism adult community". Price tag: $5000. Per month. For years. We can scratch that one off the list. Believe me, I lay awake at night worried about this; I can't say that I've ever had tax-induced insomnia.
The Grandpa of No is looking at assisted living facilities for my mom. He's reported back that the costs are somewhere in the $5000 per month range (what is it with the $5000 per month?). Add that to the list of things to save for: old age. Somewhere in between paying for medical care, college tuition, the Son of Never Stop's Eating's financial planning, my homeowner's and auto insurance that goes up every year, and all the other expenses involved in the middle class experience, I probably need to come up with a several hundred thousand smackers or at least the premiums for two long-term care policies so the Teenager doesn't go bankrupt paying for our assisted living care.
I could save that $900 per year I'm supposedly getting back; at that rate, it would only take 66 years to save up for almost one year in Memory Acres or Loving Arms Long Term Care or wherever I end up.
So, forgive me if I'm personally not feeling like I was handed a huge Christmas gift by Congress Claus; It feels more like one of those candy canes that you put on your Christmas tree as a decoration but no one actually eats, so you end up either breaking it up in pieces and putting it in brownies or tossing it in the garbage can in early February.
Anyway, a Merry Christmas from the Household of No. I'm going to spend the next week eating fudge, watching Christmas Vacation, nagging teenagers, and hopefully getting some birding in. 2018 promises to be a year of excitement, challenges, and change.
This past week, in between finalizing Christmas shopping, spending some time with friends, finishing up work for the week, watching the hilariousness of "Christmas Vacation" with the Son of Never Stops Eating, and going to the dentist, I've been trying to figure out what this new tax bill means for me. It's not the easiest thing in the world because I can't seem to find any information that gives just the facts; everything is either "DOOM! You are DOOMED! Run for the hills!" or "This is the greatest gift to the Middle Class of America since the invention of the TV remote control and the drive-thru restaurant!".
One article I read said that this bill means an extra $900 a year for the middle class. OK, I can use an extra $900. If that's actually true, because another article said that basically I'd be sending it all in, except maybe a small allowance for bread and water, and gas money to get to work. Apparently there's an increase in the child tax credit, but that isn't really helpful when your children are 17 and 15. I suspect I am not the only person who really isn't sure what happened to me here.
If this bill was meant to alleviate the angst of the middle class, or at least my angst, it fails. First, I don't mind paying taxes that much- sure, I like money, but I also like things like free public K-12 education, roads (except toll roads; those suck), parks, clean water coming out of my tap, knowing that if I call 911 someone will show up to help, and a functioning system of law and order. I don't mind handing over some of my money so that other people can have a safe place to live or that schoolchildren can have a hot lunch. I definitely don't agree with everything my tax dollars go to, but I don't see my tax burden as my biggest problem.
I looked at my pay stub for my final pay period of 2017, and realized that I've paid as much in health insurance premiums as I have in federal tax. Once you factor in all those co-pays, and deductibles, and "you pay 15% of the plan allowance if you use a preferred provider for a medical emergency", some years I probably pay a lot more. One year I had my gallbladder out as emergency surgery, and the anesthesiologist wasn't a "preferred provider". You should have checked, I was told. Sure, as I'm being wheeled to the OR. Oh, you're not a provider on my insurance? I don't need anesthesia. How about you just give me a bottle of whiskey and knock me out with a hammer instead? That was a big bill. If you really want to do a girl a favor, address the cost of medical care.
Or, this year I did my first FAFSA for The Teenager. The end result of that was basically "This is how much you make? Send it in!". College tuition is a fast moving train headed in my direction. Evidently for the next four years I'm allowed to pay my mortgage, my utilities, and buy food, and supposedly everything else is available for tuition. Then I have to figure out how to provide for the Son of Never Stops Eating; having a special needs child adds a whole new dimension to your financial planning. Last week I went to a transition fair and heard a presentation from a swanky new "Autism adult community". Price tag: $5000. Per month. For years. We can scratch that one off the list. Believe me, I lay awake at night worried about this; I can't say that I've ever had tax-induced insomnia.
The Grandpa of No is looking at assisted living facilities for my mom. He's reported back that the costs are somewhere in the $5000 per month range (what is it with the $5000 per month?). Add that to the list of things to save for: old age. Somewhere in between paying for medical care, college tuition, the Son of Never Stop's Eating's financial planning, my homeowner's and auto insurance that goes up every year, and all the other expenses involved in the middle class experience, I probably need to come up with a several hundred thousand smackers or at least the premiums for two long-term care policies so the Teenager doesn't go bankrupt paying for our assisted living care.
I could save that $900 per year I'm supposedly getting back; at that rate, it would only take 66 years to save up for almost one year in Memory Acres or Loving Arms Long Term Care or wherever I end up.
So, forgive me if I'm personally not feeling like I was handed a huge Christmas gift by Congress Claus; It feels more like one of those candy canes that you put on your Christmas tree as a decoration but no one actually eats, so you end up either breaking it up in pieces and putting it in brownies or tossing it in the garbage can in early February.
Anyway, a Merry Christmas from the Household of No. I'm going to spend the next week eating fudge, watching Christmas Vacation, nagging teenagers, and hopefully getting some birding in. 2018 promises to be a year of excitement, challenges, and change.
Friday, December 15, 2017
The Marsh Project Week #3
This week, it was a quick hike between finishing up Christmas preparations and dinner out with friends. Everything was brown, and it was a chilly day, although the sun was shining. The birds were chirping but mostly invisible.
I had spent the morning running around getting stocking stuffers, a haircut, and visiting the public library to pay some overdue fines. It felt wonderful to be outside, even if it would be a short hike, just to take a break from the seemingly endless list of chores that make up the weeks before Christmas.
The wildlife wasn't moving around during my walk, but there was clearly evidence that something had been out and about at some point:
And of course I scared the waterfowl.
Finally, it was time to walk back to the car. I will admit, as I started back I was a bit disappointed that I hadn't seen anything really spectacular, but you never know what nature will send your way. I looked up and saw two yellow-bellied sapsuckers flying from tree to tree, and was able to get one photo before they flew away.
Critters observed: Lots of little brown birds, cardinals, woodpeckers (downy woodpeckers, red-bellied woodpeckers, and the yellow-bellied sapsuckers), several great blue herons, several ruby-crowned kinglets, mallards, a kingfisher, and an osprey with a fish.
The wildlife wasn't moving around during my walk, but there was clearly evidence that something had been out and about at some point:
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| No, I don't know what animal this is from. |
And of course I scared the waterfowl.
Critters observed: Lots of little brown birds, cardinals, woodpeckers (downy woodpeckers, red-bellied woodpeckers, and the yellow-bellied sapsuckers), several great blue herons, several ruby-crowned kinglets, mallards, a kingfisher, and an osprey with a fish.
Tuesday, December 12, 2017
Grownup Stuff
The Son of Never Stops Eating turned 15 last week. To celebrate, we went to the "all you can eat place", aka the local Chinese buffet, and he got a Lego kit he'd been eyeballing at Target. He also got a meeting with his Mom, his teacher, and one of the school district's transition planners to talk about what he wanted to do after high school. The festivities and merriment never end at the Household of No.
A surprise for Mom: The Son of Never Stops Eating was all about getting a driver's license. Not to worry, neighbors; if that day comes, I have "Student Driver" magnets for our vehicles.
Much of the meeting centered around working- what kind of work he would like and do well at, whether he would be working full time or part time, where he might want to work (Target and Petco were mentioned), how he was going to get there (that's how the driver's license issue came up), and how he would manage his money. Eventually, the conversation came around to maintaining his eligibility for Medicaid through SSI.
Here's the thing about special needs planning: It is extremely complicated. Half the time, I'm not even sure I'm getting it right. People, the Mom of No included, pay other people specifically for assistance in navigating through the maze of state and federal programs. You almost have to; a single mistake could destroy even the most carefully calibrated plan. Because I don't know if the Son of Never Stops Eating will be able to hold a job that pays well enough to include health insurance benefits, maintaining eligibility for Medicaid is the center of the web that we are carefully weaving, strand by strand, in the hopes that it will be strong enough to support him for his entire life.
What struck me at this meeting, although I didn't really realize it until later, was that his future working life won't be based so much on his abilities or his desires to work (he wants a job really badly, to pay for all those Legos his mean mother won't buy him), or even on any opportunities that may present themselves. The decisions will be based on maintaining his eligibility for health insurance. That is, as the teenagers would say, messed up.
The assumption of competence is, in planning for a special needs child's adult life, an extremely risky proposition.
The second I begin assuming competence- the ability to make life choices, to get married, to hold down a full time job, to navigate daily life as an adult without your mom nagging you to do boring stuff like brushing your teeth or doing your laundry, is the moment I assume a risk that the already fragile safety net will tear into so many fragments. As a parent, I don't want to assume incompetence. I want my soon-to-be adult child to make as many choices as he can for himself, to find fulfilling work, to live independently, but planning for competence within the constraints of what the system allows is like walking on a tightrope over a pit full of very hungry piranha.
It doesn't help that the conversations that our society really needs to be having- the ones that would make a huge difference, especially the one about the issue that dare not speak its name (that would be health care) are just not possible at this time. Conversations I've had with people about my son's future often go like this: Oh, your son is great, kids with autism are precious, God is watching out for them, what a wonderful mother you are. These days the contrasting unspoken message is getting louder and louder: Wow, that sucks for you, but it's not really my problem. Let's not commit any actual resources or demand that our politicians change anything.
Good luck, you're mostly on your own.
I left the meeting feeling optimistic and frustrated all at the same time. Later, after he got home from school, the Son of Never Stops Eating was hanging out on the sofa, watching The Simpsons and working on his latest Lego project. When I walked into the living room, I asked him what he'd thought of the meeting.
Mom, he told me, being a grownup is going to be hard work. He didn't sound dismayed or nervous; he seemed more in awe of the entire proceeding.
Yes, kid, being a grownup is definitely going to be hard work. I'm not sure either of us really know what we're in for yet.
A surprise for Mom: The Son of Never Stops Eating was all about getting a driver's license. Not to worry, neighbors; if that day comes, I have "Student Driver" magnets for our vehicles.
Much of the meeting centered around working- what kind of work he would like and do well at, whether he would be working full time or part time, where he might want to work (Target and Petco were mentioned), how he was going to get there (that's how the driver's license issue came up), and how he would manage his money. Eventually, the conversation came around to maintaining his eligibility for Medicaid through SSI.
Here's the thing about special needs planning: It is extremely complicated. Half the time, I'm not even sure I'm getting it right. People, the Mom of No included, pay other people specifically for assistance in navigating through the maze of state and federal programs. You almost have to; a single mistake could destroy even the most carefully calibrated plan. Because I don't know if the Son of Never Stops Eating will be able to hold a job that pays well enough to include health insurance benefits, maintaining eligibility for Medicaid is the center of the web that we are carefully weaving, strand by strand, in the hopes that it will be strong enough to support him for his entire life.
What struck me at this meeting, although I didn't really realize it until later, was that his future working life won't be based so much on his abilities or his desires to work (he wants a job really badly, to pay for all those Legos his mean mother won't buy him), or even on any opportunities that may present themselves. The decisions will be based on maintaining his eligibility for health insurance. That is, as the teenagers would say, messed up.
The assumption of competence is, in planning for a special needs child's adult life, an extremely risky proposition.
The second I begin assuming competence- the ability to make life choices, to get married, to hold down a full time job, to navigate daily life as an adult without your mom nagging you to do boring stuff like brushing your teeth or doing your laundry, is the moment I assume a risk that the already fragile safety net will tear into so many fragments. As a parent, I don't want to assume incompetence. I want my soon-to-be adult child to make as many choices as he can for himself, to find fulfilling work, to live independently, but planning for competence within the constraints of what the system allows is like walking on a tightrope over a pit full of very hungry piranha.
It doesn't help that the conversations that our society really needs to be having- the ones that would make a huge difference, especially the one about the issue that dare not speak its name (that would be health care) are just not possible at this time. Conversations I've had with people about my son's future often go like this: Oh, your son is great, kids with autism are precious, God is watching out for them, what a wonderful mother you are. These days the contrasting unspoken message is getting louder and louder: Wow, that sucks for you, but it's not really my problem. Let's not commit any actual resources or demand that our politicians change anything.
Good luck, you're mostly on your own.
I left the meeting feeling optimistic and frustrated all at the same time. Later, after he got home from school, the Son of Never Stops Eating was hanging out on the sofa, watching The Simpsons and working on his latest Lego project. When I walked into the living room, I asked him what he'd thought of the meeting.
Mom, he told me, being a grownup is going to be hard work. He didn't sound dismayed or nervous; he seemed more in awe of the entire proceeding.
Yes, kid, being a grownup is definitely going to be hard work. I'm not sure either of us really know what we're in for yet.
Friday, December 8, 2017
The Marsh Project Week #2
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| The marsh on a cold December day. |
This week, I acknowledge my inadequacy as a birder.
Summer seems to be the domain of the bright birds - the blue herons, the scissortail flycatchers, the painted buntings. Winter is the domain of the "LBB"- the "little brown birds".
The little brown birds enjoy rustling around in the cattails and the dead vegetation, making themselves sound like something bigger. Before I got wise to their tricks, I would stand still waiting for something like a bobcat or a raccoon to emerge, but eventually I realized all that rustling was either an LBB, an armadillo, or the wind. When the LBB's finally deign to show themselves, it is only for a fleeting moment. They are mostly unwilling to perch on branches for more than a few seconds at a time. They blend in to the winter landscape. On occasion, I manage something better than a blur. When that happens, it's definitely luck- not skill. Birders who actually know what they are doing can identify these little birds on sight; I require assistance.
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Red Fox Sparrow
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Even woodpeckers seem to sense when the camera is focused on them, and they fly off to some other tree, leaving me with only a blur as evidence that they were seen. They are slightly easier to see, however, once the leaves have fallen off the trees- especially the red-bellied woodpeckers, with their bright red heads. Downy woodpeckers are more of a challenge; they are loud but smaller.
Winter is also prime waterfowl time. I find waterfowl easier to identify, but they have the ability to sense my approach before I sense their presence, and off they fly. A substantial number of my waterfowl photos are of ducks in the distance surrounded by a lot of water. At least great blue herons are willing to stand still while I document their presence. I have a lot of great blue heron photos.
However, all is not lost. The marsh is a popular spot for one of my favorite birds, the northern flicker. I love the patterns on the feathers, and the northern flickers are often more willing to hang around for a few minutes while I attempt to get a photo that doesn't have a branch or a few dead leaves blocking a complete view of the bird. I often fail at this, but I don't fret too much; the process is just as much fun as viewing the results back at home.
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| Northern Flicker (with branches in the way) |
Today's visit was a quiet one, other than the rustling LBB's, dueling red bellied woodpeckers arguing over a tree (I tried to get a photo, only to find out that my battery had died), a northern flicker, a bunch of cardinals, and a great blue heron. It was cold, and any critter with any sense was probably holed up somewhere.
Tuesday, December 5, 2017
It's a Very Slacker Christmas
December is here, so that means that Christmas preparations are in full swing. Cookies are being baked; trees are being decorated; presents are being bought; cards are being sent; festivities are being planned and executed; carols are being sung; Santa is reading petitions from hopeful children; lights are being installed on houses all over the neighborhoods, along with all sorts of festive yard décor.
The Dad of No put up the exterior lights. I've made three pans of pumpkin spice fudge (yes, that is a real thing, don't judge, it's delicious). The Son of Never Stops Eating and I saw a Christmas parade. I spent an hour with my friend Amazon.com, shopping. That's my entire list of holiday-related accomplishments to this point.
The older the Mom of No gets, the more of a Christmas slacker I become. It's been years since I've sent out Christmas cards- almost everyone I'd send a Christmas card to is on Facebook and our lives just aren't exciting enough to merit writing a Christmas letter. If I did, it would probably be like this:
"Dear friends and relatives: we're still here. Same house, same cars, same job, one graduates from high school this year, the other swims and eats. We went to the beach last summer. The big thrill in our lives was that we had new duct work installed in our attic before the summer heat hit. Have a merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year!"
It's not that I don't like Christmas or that I'm anti-festivities; please don't send me any hate mail about the "War on Christmas". I'm just not very motivated when it comes to decorating, or gift wrapping with homemade wrapping paper, or baking cookies from recipes that are four pages long, or decorating my house with a different Christmas theme every year. I feel accomplished once the tree is up and all the ornaments are on it. In terms of Christmas decorating, my bar is set pretty darn low.
One of the great things about having teenagers as opposed to small kids is that teenagers generally do not want their pictures taken with Santa Claus, which is good because it means I don't have to go seek out a Santa Claus at the mall and then wait in line for hours just to find out that the kid has a heart's desire Christmas wish that I knew nothing about. I learned the Santa Claus at the Mall lesson a long time ago with the Teenager, who as a toddler insisted on seeing Santa then chickened out when it was her turn, so we left without actually talking to the Big Guy, then when we got to the car said "Mommy, I think I want to see Santa now". I was extremely pregnant at the time, and the occupant of my uterus was being the Son of Let's Kick Mommy's Bladder For Fun! so there was no way I was getting back into that line. I was the Mom of Extremely Annoyed. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!
Actually, one of my Christmas goals is to not go to the mall at all, under any circumstances. I know that's part of the holiday experience with the festive décor and the music, but thanks to the internet, I can get the gifts purchased while sitting in the quiet of my own home, and I don't have to fight to get a parking space within walking distance of the mall or wait in line behind people who have complicated transactions. Another great thing about teenagers: both of mine wanted cash and gift cards, which are readily attainable. No more chasing down the must-have but hard to find Santa Claus gift.
I see photos of other peoples' festive crafts and décor and baking and wrapping, and I admire their work, but given a choice between spending Sunday afternoon lounging around on the sofa reading a book and decorating a gingerbread house with tiny little candies or handcrafting Christmas gift tags, I'd pick the book every time. I refuse to feel any guilt about this. I bought a bag of gingerbread cookies -decorated, even! and if anyone wants any gingerbread, they can have one of those cookies.
Christmas is high-pressure time, especially if you're female, and it's doubly high-pressure time if you're a mom. All that stuff people expect, that's all woman stuff (except hanging up the lights outside the house; it's acceptable to delegate that to male members of the household). All that decorating and gift buying and baking and organizing people to go places and do things takes a lot of energy, and it is all very time-sensitive. If you enjoy doing those activities, then you should do them, and you should post photos of the results on Facebook. You have my full support and admiration for your efforts.
If you're like me, and you'd rather spend the evening watching "Christmas Vacation" for the fiftieth time while eating pumpkin spice fudge and thinking that it's probably time to take the Thanksgiving decorations down and put the manger scene up on the fireplace mantel (once you locate the box it's in, that is), then you should feel absolutely no guilt about those choices. Let me know if you want the fudge recipe. It's good stuff and easy enough that even a Christmas slacker can make it.
The Dad of No put up the exterior lights. I've made three pans of pumpkin spice fudge (yes, that is a real thing, don't judge, it's delicious). The Son of Never Stops Eating and I saw a Christmas parade. I spent an hour with my friend Amazon.com, shopping. That's my entire list of holiday-related accomplishments to this point.
The older the Mom of No gets, the more of a Christmas slacker I become. It's been years since I've sent out Christmas cards- almost everyone I'd send a Christmas card to is on Facebook and our lives just aren't exciting enough to merit writing a Christmas letter. If I did, it would probably be like this:
"Dear friends and relatives: we're still here. Same house, same cars, same job, one graduates from high school this year, the other swims and eats. We went to the beach last summer. The big thrill in our lives was that we had new duct work installed in our attic before the summer heat hit. Have a merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year!"
It's not that I don't like Christmas or that I'm anti-festivities; please don't send me any hate mail about the "War on Christmas". I'm just not very motivated when it comes to decorating, or gift wrapping with homemade wrapping paper, or baking cookies from recipes that are four pages long, or decorating my house with a different Christmas theme every year. I feel accomplished once the tree is up and all the ornaments are on it. In terms of Christmas decorating, my bar is set pretty darn low.
One of the great things about having teenagers as opposed to small kids is that teenagers generally do not want their pictures taken with Santa Claus, which is good because it means I don't have to go seek out a Santa Claus at the mall and then wait in line for hours just to find out that the kid has a heart's desire Christmas wish that I knew nothing about. I learned the Santa Claus at the Mall lesson a long time ago with the Teenager, who as a toddler insisted on seeing Santa then chickened out when it was her turn, so we left without actually talking to the Big Guy, then when we got to the car said "Mommy, I think I want to see Santa now". I was extremely pregnant at the time, and the occupant of my uterus was being the Son of Let's Kick Mommy's Bladder For Fun! so there was no way I was getting back into that line. I was the Mom of Extremely Annoyed. Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas!
Actually, one of my Christmas goals is to not go to the mall at all, under any circumstances. I know that's part of the holiday experience with the festive décor and the music, but thanks to the internet, I can get the gifts purchased while sitting in the quiet of my own home, and I don't have to fight to get a parking space within walking distance of the mall or wait in line behind people who have complicated transactions. Another great thing about teenagers: both of mine wanted cash and gift cards, which are readily attainable. No more chasing down the must-have but hard to find Santa Claus gift.
I see photos of other peoples' festive crafts and décor and baking and wrapping, and I admire their work, but given a choice between spending Sunday afternoon lounging around on the sofa reading a book and decorating a gingerbread house with tiny little candies or handcrafting Christmas gift tags, I'd pick the book every time. I refuse to feel any guilt about this. I bought a bag of gingerbread cookies -decorated, even! and if anyone wants any gingerbread, they can have one of those cookies.
Christmas is high-pressure time, especially if you're female, and it's doubly high-pressure time if you're a mom. All that stuff people expect, that's all woman stuff (except hanging up the lights outside the house; it's acceptable to delegate that to male members of the household). All that decorating and gift buying and baking and organizing people to go places and do things takes a lot of energy, and it is all very time-sensitive. If you enjoy doing those activities, then you should do them, and you should post photos of the results on Facebook. You have my full support and admiration for your efforts.
If you're like me, and you'd rather spend the evening watching "Christmas Vacation" for the fiftieth time while eating pumpkin spice fudge and thinking that it's probably time to take the Thanksgiving decorations down and put the manger scene up on the fireplace mantel (once you locate the box it's in, that is), then you should feel absolutely no guilt about those choices. Let me know if you want the fudge recipe. It's good stuff and easy enough that even a Christmas slacker can make it.
Saturday, December 2, 2017
The Marsh Project Week #1
I've seen this marsh iced over with great blue herons walking on it, and I've seen this marsh in the height of summer. Several years ago, I recall seeing yellow-crowned night herons everywhere, and then they disappeared when the marsh temporarily dried up. Last summer, I saw at least three anhinga here. Now the ducks are back for the winter, but they seem to sense my presence and they take off before I have a chance to see what they are up to.
For 2018, my plan is to attempt at least a once a week photo and documentation of what I see. I think it will be interesting at the end of 2018 to go back and review the changes and observations; even in one year I've lost track of what I've seen and how the marsh looked at different times of the year. I know this is actually December of 2017, so consider this a trial run. I haven't set any rules for this project; if I miss a week, no guilt; life happens- and 2018 promises to be a crazy year, especially with the Teenager graduating high school.
I was there today, in the afternoon. As I approached the blind from the trail, a large group of people were going the other way. I was prepared to be disappointed. The dragonflies and butterflies are gone for the winter, apparently- not a one was to be found, not even the late fall variegated meadowhawks and common buckeyes. I was hoping, but not optimistic, for a snake sighting. I could hear birds -sparrows and cardinals, likely- rustling around in the reeds, but they move too fast for me to see very well. My photography skills are still at the point where I need the birds to sit still for me to get a decent photo. Herons cooperate; sparrows, not so much.
On my way back to the trail, however, my eyes caught sight of a green tree frog on a reed, and I decided to spend a few minutes playing around with the settings on my camera and photographing the frog, who was probably completely unaware of my interest. While I was doing that, I heard something moving around in the cattails on the other side of the boardwalk. I looked over, and after a few minutes saw two raccoons running out from the cattails into the woods at the edge of the marsh.
It was time to go; the preserve would be closing soon, and the sun was on its way down anyway.
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Not much was moving around - but I happened to see this green tree frog on a reed.
For fun, I used the vivid colors setting on the camera.
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