A couple of weeks ago, I delivered my last band pies ever.
Here is where I say what an emotional experience it was, knowing that a significant Band Mom tradition had come to an end for me. Never again would I be posting proud Mom Pleas on Facebook, asking if any of my Facebook friends wanted to buy a delicious Band Pie from The Teenager to help support the outstanding band program at the high school. After the pies left my custody, I stood at the door and cried, knowing that a era had come to an end.
Nah, actually, I was just happy to have the pies out of my freezer, because I need the room. I need the room desperately because Girl Scout Cookie season is upon us, and I need to stock up on those chocolate covered peanut butter nuggets of pure snacking heaven.
When the last band pie left my threshold, I realized that the milestone I'd just come to in my parenting was bigger than band pies: I am now a buyer, not a seller.
That's right, folks: as far as I am aware, that was my last parent fundraiser, ever. The Son of Never Stops Eating doesn't really do fundraisers for his activities, and honestly, if he did, I'd probably just write a check. Band Pies were the exception to the "Can I just write a check?" rule because it was simply impossible to pass up that irresistible creamy chocolate goodness (at about 2000 calories a slice) of the French Silk Band Pie, especially when the other three residents of the household were pleading for a bulk order of their favorite pies.
Next year, I'll probably be tracking down some band kids so that I can be a buyer of that divine deliciousness. I will not, however, be counting money or filling out order forms or delivering them at 10 PM on a school night because they don't all fit in the freezer.
Nope, not this girl. I will be paying and taking delivery and then consuming that pie. Or, at least hoping to get one piece before the other residents of my household eat it all. I'll probably need more than one pie.
Whenever I see Girl Scouts selling cookies, I am strongly tempted to stop and buy at least one box. I usually give in, especially if I see that they have those Lemonades, which are the best Girl Scout cookie ever made. Part of it is because I remember the cookie days: taking orders, organizing delivery, counting money, sitting at tables in grocery stores with hyper 3rd graders who are mostly arguing about who is wearing the cookie mascot outfit and not actually selling any cookies. I was there once, and now I'm not, and I cannot say that I miss it. It was fun, but I'm also glad that I don't have to worry any more about getting the order wrong or losing the money or having the family mutt eat several boxes.
I am now a buyer, not a seller, so I get to fork over my $4 a box and take my delicious cookies home and try to hide them somewhere before the Son of Never Stops Eating tracks them down and eats them.
I know that fundraisers are an essential part of running most child-related organizations, and I've sold and bought raffle tickets, cookies, pies, cookie dough, wrapping paper, some e-discount card that I didn't really ever get figured out (I only sold one, to myself, and then I never used it), chocolates, popcorn, "gift items", and probably quite a few more that I've now forgotten about. I've begged people for money for play-a-thons, jump-a-thons, run-a-thons, and math-a-thons. I taught the Teenager how to call Grandpa and give him her sales pitch so that he could get in on the fun.
But, to be quite honest, while this year has had several bittersweet moments, and I've choked up a few times, and felt sad at the thought that this will be the last time The Teenager does (fill in blank), completing my last fundraising task isn't one of them.
I'm really glad that I'm back to buyer status; my seller days are over.
Wednesday, January 24, 2018
Saturday, January 20, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #8
Compared to earlier this week, when it was freezing all day, this afternoon was gorgeous. It had warmed up, and the sun was shining. The Mom of No had spent a substantial amount of time this past week sampling Girl Scout cookies, and I was feeling a bit sluggish and in need of a walk and some time with nature.
I had high hopes for observations, since the weather was so perfect (except for a little bit of wind). The hike, however, started slow- I saw an osprey, with a fish, perched on top of a tree. I saw some ducks on the water. Other than that, it was quiet.
As I made my way to the blind, I passed a family with a young child. The child had dropped the trail map in the water, and was upset about it. His mom was soothing him, reassuring him that they could easily get another, and telling him that they needed to pack it out so that they didn't litter Nature's house.
Bless you, lady. Bless you.
Some turtles were out, soaking up some of the sun. I could hear birds rustling around in the reeds, and I sat for awhile where I saw the marsh wren last week. The day after I saw the marsh wren, I had gone back and seen a winter wren in the same spot, but both wrens were apparently about other business this day.
After sitting quietly for several minutes, a yellow-bellied sapsucker paid a visit to the marsh, and soon after that, a ladder-backed woodpecker. A pair of gadwalls swam in the distance, poking around in the vegetation along the waterline. I could hear a couple of great blue herons squawking about something in the distance. I wasn't the only one who had the idea of a hike; the blind was getting as many human visitors as it was critters.
Eventually, I moved on. I was a bit disappointed since I had been expecting to see more than I had. However, as is often the case, nature had surprises waiting for me as I got closer to my car: a wonderful western ribbon snake sunning on a log, and a opossum climbing a tree.
Seen on the trail today: Osprey, ruby-crowned kinglet, cardinals, sparrows, turtles (possibly red-eared slider), gadwall, mallards, ladder-backed woodpecker, yellow-bellied sapsucker, common goldeneye, more sparrows, diamondback water snake (deceased), armadillos, western ribbon snake, and an opossum.
I had high hopes for observations, since the weather was so perfect (except for a little bit of wind). The hike, however, started slow- I saw an osprey, with a fish, perched on top of a tree. I saw some ducks on the water. Other than that, it was quiet.
As I made my way to the blind, I passed a family with a young child. The child had dropped the trail map in the water, and was upset about it. His mom was soothing him, reassuring him that they could easily get another, and telling him that they needed to pack it out so that they didn't litter Nature's house.
Bless you, lady. Bless you.
Some turtles were out, soaking up some of the sun. I could hear birds rustling around in the reeds, and I sat for awhile where I saw the marsh wren last week. The day after I saw the marsh wren, I had gone back and seen a winter wren in the same spot, but both wrens were apparently about other business this day.
After sitting quietly for several minutes, a yellow-bellied sapsucker paid a visit to the marsh, and soon after that, a ladder-backed woodpecker. A pair of gadwalls swam in the distance, poking around in the vegetation along the waterline. I could hear a couple of great blue herons squawking about something in the distance. I wasn't the only one who had the idea of a hike; the blind was getting as many human visitors as it was critters.
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ladder-backed woodpecker
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Eventually, I moved on. I was a bit disappointed since I had been expecting to see more than I had. However, as is often the case, nature had surprises waiting for me as I got closer to my car: a wonderful western ribbon snake sunning on a log, and a opossum climbing a tree.
Seen on the trail today: Osprey, ruby-crowned kinglet, cardinals, sparrows, turtles (possibly red-eared slider), gadwall, mallards, ladder-backed woodpecker, yellow-bellied sapsucker, common goldeneye, more sparrows, diamondback water snake (deceased), armadillos, western ribbon snake, and an opossum.
Monday, January 15, 2018
Cumulative Impacts
Early this morning, the Teenager and I got up and headed out to the local nature preserve to get a couple hours of volunteer service in. Our task was, simply, to pick up trash. We worked our way down the river trail, picking up cans and glass bottles and cigarette cartons and socks (who leaves their socks on a trail?) and Styrofoam containers and fishing line (lots and lots of fishing line). We dumped all this trash in a big black heavy duty garbage bag.
Eventually, the trash bag was full and I hauled it back to the beginning of the trail, staggering under the weight.
One empty glass beer bottle does not weigh very much. A large black trash bag filled with glass bottles weighs a lot.
Yesterday, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I went to church and heard a sermon on the power of words. I asked him after church what he'd learned, and he said "I learned about God". I laughed, told him that was a good try but kind of obvious, since we were at church, so try again. His second attempt was this: "Don't be like Homer Simpson!".
Whether it's speech or glass bottles tossed out on the trail, our words and our deeds have a cumulative impact that we may not ever even see. The people tossing the glass bottles on the trail might be thinking "that's just one glass bottle; who cares what I do with it?" When you have what seems like hundreds of glass bottles in a big black garbage bag, it's a staggering weight to bear.
This past year, I feel like every day has had at least one "WTF moment". 99.9% of the time, my WTF moment of the day involves politics (the .1% was the day the 6 month old battery in my car died). I don't usually get political on my blog or my Facebook page because one of my basic beliefs about social media is that nothing you post about politics will change anyone else's mind. But I'm feeling the cumulative impacts of all the WTF moments, and it's becoming a heavy black trash bag filled with glass bottles.
The latest glass bottle was the "sh**hole" comment heard around the world. After that, the usual chaos ensued on Facebook. Lo and behold: the WTF moment of the day. So much for the gravitas of high office, or the hope that it might be possible to have some serious conversations about important issues. We're arguing about whether or not a cuss word that would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap as a kid is "fake news".
Where's a good zombie apocalypse when you need one?*
When I was a kid, I had a set of books about the Presidents and First Ladies. Dolly Madison was my favorite, although I don't actually remember why. Even though later I learned that (like the rest of us) they were flawed human beings, they represented lofty ideals. They owned their mistakes, overcame challenges, triumphed over adversity, made wise decisions. The presidents were like your teacher, or the minister at church- it was impossible to imagine them engaged in mundane tasks like grocery shopping, buying underwear, or going to the dentist, but they were paragons of leadership; they were worthy of emulation.
Now, it's just so many glass bottles clinking around in a big black bag.
I'm glad my children are older and realize that there's nothing to emulate here.
The amazing thing, about cumulative impacts, however, is that they can also be forces for good. Pick up one glass bottle, and another, and another, and soon the trail is clean (at least temporarily). Every kind word, every good deed, every act of positive leadership, it all matters in ways we may not recognize. It may seem small, insignificant, weightless. Put together, however, it matters.
It matters greatly.
*This is my weird sense of humor at work- I don't really want a zombie apocalypse; I've seen enough "Walking Dead" to know I'd end up either as a zombie or as a brain snack for a zombie somewhere in the first week.
Eventually, the trash bag was full and I hauled it back to the beginning of the trail, staggering under the weight.
One empty glass beer bottle does not weigh very much. A large black trash bag filled with glass bottles weighs a lot.
Yesterday, the Son of Never Stops Eating and I went to church and heard a sermon on the power of words. I asked him after church what he'd learned, and he said "I learned about God". I laughed, told him that was a good try but kind of obvious, since we were at church, so try again. His second attempt was this: "Don't be like Homer Simpson!".
Whether it's speech or glass bottles tossed out on the trail, our words and our deeds have a cumulative impact that we may not ever even see. The people tossing the glass bottles on the trail might be thinking "that's just one glass bottle; who cares what I do with it?" When you have what seems like hundreds of glass bottles in a big black garbage bag, it's a staggering weight to bear.
This past year, I feel like every day has had at least one "WTF moment". 99.9% of the time, my WTF moment of the day involves politics (the .1% was the day the 6 month old battery in my car died). I don't usually get political on my blog or my Facebook page because one of my basic beliefs about social media is that nothing you post about politics will change anyone else's mind. But I'm feeling the cumulative impacts of all the WTF moments, and it's becoming a heavy black trash bag filled with glass bottles.
The latest glass bottle was the "sh**hole" comment heard around the world. After that, the usual chaos ensued on Facebook. Lo and behold: the WTF moment of the day. So much for the gravitas of high office, or the hope that it might be possible to have some serious conversations about important issues. We're arguing about whether or not a cuss word that would have gotten my mouth washed out with soap as a kid is "fake news".
Where's a good zombie apocalypse when you need one?*
When I was a kid, I had a set of books about the Presidents and First Ladies. Dolly Madison was my favorite, although I don't actually remember why. Even though later I learned that (like the rest of us) they were flawed human beings, they represented lofty ideals. They owned their mistakes, overcame challenges, triumphed over adversity, made wise decisions. The presidents were like your teacher, or the minister at church- it was impossible to imagine them engaged in mundane tasks like grocery shopping, buying underwear, or going to the dentist, but they were paragons of leadership; they were worthy of emulation.
Now, it's just so many glass bottles clinking around in a big black bag.
I'm glad my children are older and realize that there's nothing to emulate here.
The amazing thing, about cumulative impacts, however, is that they can also be forces for good. Pick up one glass bottle, and another, and another, and soon the trail is clean (at least temporarily). Every kind word, every good deed, every act of positive leadership, it all matters in ways we may not recognize. It may seem small, insignificant, weightless. Put together, however, it matters.
It matters greatly.
*This is my weird sense of humor at work- I don't really want a zombie apocalypse; I've seen enough "Walking Dead" to know I'd end up either as a zombie or as a brain snack for a zombie somewhere in the first week.
Saturday, January 13, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #7
More cold. Not just cold but your feet are frozen solid despite the fact you're wearing hiking boots and thick socks cold. The cold, however, was not a problem when it came to getting some good observations- the birds were definitely out both for my morning and afternoon visits.
I went out early in the morning, bundled up, to see if the marsh has frozen over (some of the shallow water had) and I managed to get a observation of a new bird: two canvasback ducks.
On the way to the blind, I also saw several ruby-crowned kinglets walking on the ice. Those birds move fast so I took several photos and hoped that I'd get one that wasn't blurry or just showed the bird's butt.
Finally, I had to admit that it was too cold even for someone as obsessed with nature as I am (and I was craving a hot cup of coffee and some breakfast), so I headed back to the car. However, later in the day it warmed up so I put the thick socks and four layers of shirts back on and headed back out to enjoy the sunshine. I definitely had chores to do around the house but chores can wait when the birds are calling.
As I walked by one of the reedy areas on the boardwalk, I heard the distinctive sounds of a marsh wren. These birds are rather reclusive and hard to spot, but this one was flying in and out of the grass and the reeds, so I stood quietly for a few minutes and tried to predict where the wren would go next. I took several photos, mostly of the vegetation after the wren had flown through it, but I was able to get one photo I liked. Patience is not one of my personal strengths but if you want to get good photos of birds you have to make at least an attempt at patience.
The armadillos were also out, rooting around.
Observed on the trail today: Armadillo, belted kingfishers, common goldeneye, cardinals, the usual little brown birds, marsh wren, green-winged teal, gadwall, canvasback, downy woodpecker, red-bellied woodpecker, Canada goose, one turtle with his head sticking up out of the water, a few deer (in the morning), ruby-crowned kinglets, American coots, American kestrel, great blue egrets, mallards.
I went out early in the morning, bundled up, to see if the marsh has frozen over (some of the shallow water had) and I managed to get a observation of a new bird: two canvasback ducks.
On the way to the blind, I also saw several ruby-crowned kinglets walking on the ice. Those birds move fast so I took several photos and hoped that I'd get one that wasn't blurry or just showed the bird's butt.
Finally, I had to admit that it was too cold even for someone as obsessed with nature as I am (and I was craving a hot cup of coffee and some breakfast), so I headed back to the car. However, later in the day it warmed up so I put the thick socks and four layers of shirts back on and headed back out to enjoy the sunshine. I definitely had chores to do around the house but chores can wait when the birds are calling.
As I walked by one of the reedy areas on the boardwalk, I heard the distinctive sounds of a marsh wren. These birds are rather reclusive and hard to spot, but this one was flying in and out of the grass and the reeds, so I stood quietly for a few minutes and tried to predict where the wren would go next. I took several photos, mostly of the vegetation after the wren had flown through it, but I was able to get one photo I liked. Patience is not one of my personal strengths but if you want to get good photos of birds you have to make at least an attempt at patience.
The armadillos were also out, rooting around.
Observed on the trail today: Armadillo, belted kingfishers, common goldeneye, cardinals, the usual little brown birds, marsh wren, green-winged teal, gadwall, canvasback, downy woodpecker, red-bellied woodpecker, Canada goose, one turtle with his head sticking up out of the water, a few deer (in the morning), ruby-crowned kinglets, American coots, American kestrel, great blue egrets, mallards.
Sunday, January 7, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #6
Another cold and cloudy day. Yesterday I'd been out in the area picking up trash (mostly beer cans, bottles, and Styrofoam containers- if you brought it in, you should take it out, or at least put it in the dumpster at the parking lot) with some other volunteers and I hadn't had time to make it out to my spot even though the weather had been perfect. This morning, the feel of rain was in the air and the weather app on the phone informed me that there was a 100% chance of rain this afternoon, so it was probably a good idea to get the nature time in early.
The birds were chirping and doing their usual "I'm hiding and you can't find me!" tricks, except for a pair of Canada geese, which hung out near the wildlife blind for a few minutes and then flew off, squawking. After several minutes, I could see a small water bird in the distance but I couldn't tell what it was; there was something silvery and flashy about it. Finally, it got close enough to where I thought I might be able to see closer with the camera, and what I was looking at was (I think) a pied-billed grebe with a fish. I got one not-very good shot and then the grebe dove down into the water head-first with its fish treat. I learned something new today, because I actually hadn't known that grebes eat fish.
All this past week, the temperatures have been really cold, and I'd been hoping to make a very quick trip out to the spot at least once during lunch to see if the marsh had iced over, but the one day that I thought I'd be able to do it, I ended up having to take my car to the mechanic (long story). However, I did see what looked like some residual ice. I wasn't about to walk into the water to find out. Last year around this time, we'd had a spell of freezing weather and when the marsh iced over, I saw several great blue herons walking on the ice. It was a fun sight, and I'd hoped to see something like that again, but it was not to be.
Sightings on the trail: Canada goose, pied-billed grebe, mallards, downy woodpecker, least sandpipers, lots and lots of ruby-crowned kinglets, greater yellowlegs, the usual little brown birds, what I think was a hooded merganser but was too far away to tell for sure (but I've seen one there before, so it's possible), great blue herons, American coots, an osprey flying, and a northern flicker. Plenty of animal tracks and scat, but no actual mammals.
All this past week, the temperatures have been really cold, and I'd been hoping to make a very quick trip out to the spot at least once during lunch to see if the marsh had iced over, but the one day that I thought I'd be able to do it, I ended up having to take my car to the mechanic (long story). However, I did see what looked like some residual ice. I wasn't about to walk into the water to find out. Last year around this time, we'd had a spell of freezing weather and when the marsh iced over, I saw several great blue herons walking on the ice. It was a fun sight, and I'd hoped to see something like that again, but it was not to be.
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Downy Woodpecker
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Sightings on the trail: Canada goose, pied-billed grebe, mallards, downy woodpecker, least sandpipers, lots and lots of ruby-crowned kinglets, greater yellowlegs, the usual little brown birds, what I think was a hooded merganser but was too far away to tell for sure (but I've seen one there before, so it's possible), great blue herons, American coots, an osprey flying, and a northern flicker. Plenty of animal tracks and scat, but no actual mammals.
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