Recently, the Teenager and I made a college visit. She's starting to narrow down the choices, and I think we have a front-runner, but we still have a few more visits to make to be sure. This visit was out of state and it involved air travel, so it was more than a college visit; it was an adventure. We were going to a place with really cold weather, and I was having pre-visit nightmares of driving on icy roads covered in snow and crashing the rental car on some road hazard like a fence post or another car, and then having to explain to the rental car company that I wrecked their car because driving on ice just isn't a personal strength.
Anyway, that part of it went perfectly. The rental car was returned without a scratch on it.
As part of this visit we got to tour the different departments of the school's College of Engineering, and hear about all the wonderful things that happen there, and all the fantastic resources the university offers to maximize student success. Students have lots of study abroad opportunities, and they can gain real world experience through paid internships. I sat and listened to all of this, and my brain kept going back to three thoughts:
1. When do we get to the part about how much money you want me to give you? Because no one is really talking about that here.
2. I don't remember all this supportive stuff when I was a college student back in the ancient days of scan-trons, typewriters and poufy hair coated with Aqua-net. Back then it was essentially "Here it is, boys and girls, the source of knowledge. It's all on you now, so good luck and try not to flunk out, and enjoy that King Ranch Casserole in the cafeteria, because you'll be eating it every Wednesday!".
3. How is it possible that I have a daughter about to go to college, especially since I just gave birth to her yesterday? What happened here?
I was transported back to my own college days, especially when we decided to check out a cookie place near the campus called "Insomnia Cookies". It is the perfect name for a business near a college campus, because one aspect I do remember about my own college experience is that I stayed up all night quite a bit, especially during finals, hoping (in some cases, in vain) that the knowledge that had failed to percolate through to my brain all semester would all of a sudden bind itself to the gray matter inside my skull. This cookie place, we were told, would deliver cookies until 3 AM.
Of course we had to check it out; the cookies were delicious. We made a repeat visit before we left.
This business of applying to and then selecting a university seems a lot more involved than it did back in the 1980's, or maybe it was and I have just forgotten. I picked my undergraduate alma mater based on three factors: (1) the campus was really pretty; (2) It was affordable; and (3) they were willing to offer me admission. Now both prospective student and parent get bombarded with e-mail about college days and visits and orientations and this deadline and that deadline and I start feeling like it's time to retreat to a cave to perform simple tasks, like filing my 2017 income tax returns.
I do remember being bombarded with postcards and brochures, just like the Teenager is. But they definitely were not as fancy as they are now. I didn't have to set up e-mail accounts for every university I applied to (that was back when people actually mailed you things, young whippersnappers!). The residence halls still have that distinctive eau de dorm odor, but now you don't need quarters to operate the washers and dryers; you use your student account card. I don't recall study abroad opportunities; if they did exist it was a well-kept secret (at least from me). Now, it seems like it's almost a requirement.
Anyway, we left feeling like the time had been productively spent; we got a better feel for the campus and the surrounding area and I think the teenager got some valuable insights into her choice of major. We also saw snow, which was a big deal to us, but not a big deal to anyone else on the campus because apparently they see snow a lot and by February they're rather tired of dealing with it.
And we had cookies. Delicious, warm, chocolatey cookies. Not, however, at 3 AM. I need my sleep.
Wednesday, February 28, 2018
Sunday, February 25, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #11
Last weekend The Teenager and I were making a college visit out of state and then we had epic rain for several days, so I missed a week of marsh observation. That's okay; my project, my rules. The past two weeks have been hectic and stressful and I badly needed a walk in the woods.
Fortunately, after nearly a week of pouring rain, the sun came out in a big way today. Walking down the trail, I could sense that spring is just about to explode. The vegetation is still mostly brown, but here and there I see green popping up from the muddy ground, and some of the trees are budding out.
When I went out for a brief walk last night, I saw one red admiral butterfly fluttering by. I fully expect to start seeing more butterflies and the first of the dragonflies very soon. My iNaturalist project shows that my first dragonfly of 2017, a variegated meadowhawk, was observed on February 11, 2017. The variegated meadowhawks seem to be the harbinger of spring and late fall.
Today, the turtles were out sunning. Almost every available log had at least one red-eared slider on it, basking in the warmth. Some logs had multiple turtles. As I began walking down the boardwalk towards the blind, I saw a nutria swim towards one of the logs. When it finally reached the log, it climbed on top of it and took ownership. The turtles which had previously inhabited it slid back into the water, relinquishing their sunny perch.
The first time I saw a nutria out here, I didn't realize it was a nutria and I got really excited, thinking I'd finally seen a beaver itself and not just evidence of a beaver's existence. Once I got home and looked at my photos and saw the long tail, I realized that what I had was a nutria. Last October, I saw a nutria in this same pond several times; I don't know if this is the same one or not, but it seemed very much at home.
Observed on my hike: Northern cardinal (both male and female), little brown skink, lots of turtles, nutria (coypu), little brown birds, great blue heron, American kestrel, mallards, common goldeneye.
Fortunately, after nearly a week of pouring rain, the sun came out in a big way today. Walking down the trail, I could sense that spring is just about to explode. The vegetation is still mostly brown, but here and there I see green popping up from the muddy ground, and some of the trees are budding out.
When I went out for a brief walk last night, I saw one red admiral butterfly fluttering by. I fully expect to start seeing more butterflies and the first of the dragonflies very soon. My iNaturalist project shows that my first dragonfly of 2017, a variegated meadowhawk, was observed on February 11, 2017. The variegated meadowhawks seem to be the harbinger of spring and late fall.
Today, the turtles were out sunning. Almost every available log had at least one red-eared slider on it, basking in the warmth. Some logs had multiple turtles. As I began walking down the boardwalk towards the blind, I saw a nutria swim towards one of the logs. When it finally reached the log, it climbed on top of it and took ownership. The turtles which had previously inhabited it slid back into the water, relinquishing their sunny perch.
The first time I saw a nutria out here, I didn't realize it was a nutria and I got really excited, thinking I'd finally seen a beaver itself and not just evidence of a beaver's existence. Once I got home and looked at my photos and saw the long tail, I realized that what I had was a nutria. Last October, I saw a nutria in this same pond several times; I don't know if this is the same one or not, but it seemed very much at home.
Saturday, February 10, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #10
My husband thinks I am nuts.
The reason he thinks this is because I was out on the trail in the drizzling, freezing rain. I need this, I told him. I have to get out there. It's an itch that must be scratched. I haven't been outside all week. Then I told him I probably wouldn't be out there very long, just long enough for a quick walk to get some fresh air, and then he gave me the look that said I've heard this before (he has), and I don't believe you, and then I was putting on my hiking boots and heading down the road.
I got out there and not much was going on; a few ducks were floating on the river. They flew off as soon as I attempted a photo. I walked down the trail to the blind and, with the exception of a couple of the usual little brown birds, some ducks, and a flock of least sandpipers on the river's edge, I didn't see anything. I had hopes that this meant I'd see more on the way back to my car. I didn't stay long at the blind; my fingers were freezing (actually, all of me was freezing- it was really cold). I could hear a belted kingfisher chattering away, but he wasn't in viewing range.
On the way back, a bit more luck: some great egrets had settled in on another pond, and a very cold looking great blue heron was standing in the middle of the river. As I walked by he flew off and then settled down on a nearby log. I saw some song sparrows on another pile of wood; they didn't look cold. I saw no ruby-crowned kinglets, usually a staple observation in this area in the winter months.
The real excitement happened on my way out of the park. I was driving down the road, heater on full blast A coyote ran alongside the road for several yards just ahead of me, then ran across the road in front of my car and into the woods on the other side. No photos of that; he was running too fast.
Observed: downy woodpecker, red-bellied woodpecker, song sparrow, osprey, great blue heron, great egret, mallards, common goldeneye, spotted towhee, cardinals, least sandpiper, belted kingfisher (heard, not seen), what I think was either a double-crested or neotropic cormorant (flew off before I got a really good look) and one wily coyote. No roadrunners.
The reason he thinks this is because I was out on the trail in the drizzling, freezing rain. I need this, I told him. I have to get out there. It's an itch that must be scratched. I haven't been outside all week. Then I told him I probably wouldn't be out there very long, just long enough for a quick walk to get some fresh air, and then he gave me the look that said I've heard this before (he has), and I don't believe you, and then I was putting on my hiking boots and heading down the road.
I got out there and not much was going on; a few ducks were floating on the river. They flew off as soon as I attempted a photo. I walked down the trail to the blind and, with the exception of a couple of the usual little brown birds, some ducks, and a flock of least sandpipers on the river's edge, I didn't see anything. I had hopes that this meant I'd see more on the way back to my car. I didn't stay long at the blind; my fingers were freezing (actually, all of me was freezing- it was really cold). I could hear a belted kingfisher chattering away, but he wasn't in viewing range.
 |
Great Blue Heron
|
On the way back, a bit more luck: some great egrets had settled in on another pond, and a very cold looking great blue heron was standing in the middle of the river. As I walked by he flew off and then settled down on a nearby log. I saw some song sparrows on another pile of wood; they didn't look cold. I saw no ruby-crowned kinglets, usually a staple observation in this area in the winter months.
 |
Song Sparrow
|
The real excitement happened on my way out of the park. I was driving down the road, heater on full blast A coyote ran alongside the road for several yards just ahead of me, then ran across the road in front of my car and into the woods on the other side. No photos of that; he was running too fast.
Observed: downy woodpecker, red-bellied woodpecker, song sparrow, osprey, great blue heron, great egret, mallards, common goldeneye, spotted towhee, cardinals, least sandpiper, belted kingfisher (heard, not seen), what I think was either a double-crested or neotropic cormorant (flew off before I got a really good look) and one wily coyote. No roadrunners.
Wednesday, February 7, 2018
Handwriting
The other night I decided it was time to declutter the counter space of the hutch in our kitchen, which was overflowing with magazines, catalogs, receipts, markers, and various other bits and pieces of paper. In other words, "stuff". As I dug down through the stuff, I discovered the Christmas cards that someone (it could even have been me) had placed there.
I decided that before I tossed them in the recycle bin, I should probably go through them and see if any addresses had changed just in case I decide to become the Mom of Motivated and send out my own 2018 Christmas cards (this probably will not happen, but you never know). As I worked my way through the pile, I discovered an anomaly: one of the cards had a handwritten note in it. Not just a scrawled "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Holidays", either; this was a legit, actual letter.
I couldn't remember the last time someone had written me a letter; or for that matter, the last time I'd written someone else a letter. The Grandpa of No is fond of sending brief notes along with newspaper articles he thinks I'll find interesting, usually about the rising cost of college, but he's really the only one.
I don't even produce anything handwritten anymore. I'm old enough to remember learning how to write cursive as a class in second grade, making the K's and the Q's that looked like big 2's and the M's over and over again on paper with special lines until my letters met my teacher's exacting penmanship standards. In college I took spiral bound notebooks full of handwritten notes that ended up in the trashcan (this was before recycling was a thing) as soon as I'd taken the final exam. For awhile I wrote letters to my friends, until we got busy and distracted and lost track of each other, and to my step-grandmother, who would respond with gracefully written notes written on elegant little cards . After I got married, I wrote thank you notes, like a good bride.
Then e-mail happened.
These days, I don't even really write checks; I just scrawl a lazy version of my signature on those electronic pads with the plastic stylus or whatever that writing implement is called. If the nun from my second grade class saw what has become of my handwriting, she would be truly appalled.
So here I was, with this handwritten letter. Drop me a line, the last paragraph said, when you have a chance. I'd love to know how you and the family are doing.
So I did. I hunted down a notecard and an envelope, I located my reading glasses and a pen, I sat down at the kitchen table, and I started to write a letter. The Dad of No walked by and asked me what I was doing. Writing a letter, I told him.
He just shook his head and said something about he didn't know people still did that or it had been a long time since anyone he knew had written a letter. He was astonished to see what I was doing, I could tell.
Writing that letter was actually rather challenging. I had to think about what I wanted to say, because I didn't want to make a mess of my one notecard and I couldn't go through and cut and paste and delete at will. Once I put the words down they were there to stay, so writing this letter required some discipline and planning. I wrote about the Teenager graduating from high school in June, my birding adventures, The Son of Never Stops Eating's basketball triumphs. I closed the letter, put it in the envelope, and put a stamp on it.
Maybe I should write more letters. It's kind of fun to get a letter in the mail, as opposed to what we usually get which is bills, packets of coupons for duct cleaning and maid services, college brochures, flyers advertising "free" college application seminars where you learn all the "big secrets to the FAFSA!", and, currently, political advertisements that I peruse for misspelled words and grammatical errors and then toss in the recycle bin. Sewing is apparently back "in"; maybe writing letters will be next! I could be the Mom of Setting A New Trend!
I still probably won't send out any Christmas cards next year, though.
I decided that before I tossed them in the recycle bin, I should probably go through them and see if any addresses had changed just in case I decide to become the Mom of Motivated and send out my own 2018 Christmas cards (this probably will not happen, but you never know). As I worked my way through the pile, I discovered an anomaly: one of the cards had a handwritten note in it. Not just a scrawled "Merry Christmas!" or "Happy Holidays", either; this was a legit, actual letter.
I couldn't remember the last time someone had written me a letter; or for that matter, the last time I'd written someone else a letter. The Grandpa of No is fond of sending brief notes along with newspaper articles he thinks I'll find interesting, usually about the rising cost of college, but he's really the only one.
I don't even produce anything handwritten anymore. I'm old enough to remember learning how to write cursive as a class in second grade, making the K's and the Q's that looked like big 2's and the M's over and over again on paper with special lines until my letters met my teacher's exacting penmanship standards. In college I took spiral bound notebooks full of handwritten notes that ended up in the trashcan (this was before recycling was a thing) as soon as I'd taken the final exam. For awhile I wrote letters to my friends, until we got busy and distracted and lost track of each other, and to my step-grandmother, who would respond with gracefully written notes written on elegant little cards . After I got married, I wrote thank you notes, like a good bride.
Then e-mail happened.
These days, I don't even really write checks; I just scrawl a lazy version of my signature on those electronic pads with the plastic stylus or whatever that writing implement is called. If the nun from my second grade class saw what has become of my handwriting, she would be truly appalled.
So here I was, with this handwritten letter. Drop me a line, the last paragraph said, when you have a chance. I'd love to know how you and the family are doing.
So I did. I hunted down a notecard and an envelope, I located my reading glasses and a pen, I sat down at the kitchen table, and I started to write a letter. The Dad of No walked by and asked me what I was doing. Writing a letter, I told him.
He just shook his head and said something about he didn't know people still did that or it had been a long time since anyone he knew had written a letter. He was astonished to see what I was doing, I could tell.
Writing that letter was actually rather challenging. I had to think about what I wanted to say, because I didn't want to make a mess of my one notecard and I couldn't go through and cut and paste and delete at will. Once I put the words down they were there to stay, so writing this letter required some discipline and planning. I wrote about the Teenager graduating from high school in June, my birding adventures, The Son of Never Stops Eating's basketball triumphs. I closed the letter, put it in the envelope, and put a stamp on it.
Maybe I should write more letters. It's kind of fun to get a letter in the mail, as opposed to what we usually get which is bills, packets of coupons for duct cleaning and maid services, college brochures, flyers advertising "free" college application seminars where you learn all the "big secrets to the FAFSA!", and, currently, political advertisements that I peruse for misspelled words and grammatical errors and then toss in the recycle bin. Sewing is apparently back "in"; maybe writing letters will be next! I could be the Mom of Setting A New Trend!
I still probably won't send out any Christmas cards next year, though.
Saturday, February 3, 2018
The Marsh Project Week #9
This is actually week #10 of my project, but last weekend I had bronchitis. I could barely stay awake, let alone hike, so I missed a week- but if I call this Week #10, it will bug me because there won't be a week #9. My project, my rules. I did get some nature-related reading done; "Coyote America" by Dan Flores, which I thoroughly enjoyed and highly recommend if you have any interest in urban coyotes.
Two weeks with no actual nature time was driving me nuts, so even though I am still hacking and feeling very tired, I had to get outside for a short hike out to the tall blind and back. The day was chilly and windy, and I didn't see a lot of wildlife on the way out to the blind. I did walk past a brushy area full of birds, and as I walked by my coughing apparently flushed them out and they flew away, so for a brief moment I felt like a Disney princess surrounded by happy chirping birds- except these birds did not land on my shoulder or head, and they did not offer to make me a ball gown or do my chores. Well, darn.
(I know what you're thinking: Just how much cough syrup ARE you using?)
So I got to the blind, and there were some people already there, so I wandered around on the boardwalk for a few minutes until they left. Then I went and sat up in my usual spot and watched the waterfowl- it was a big duck day, apparently- there were good-sized groups of common goldeneyes, mallards, coots, and gadwalls. The various groups were in close proximity to each other but they didn't interact; they all just did their own duck thing which for the gadwalls included diving down into the water and sticking their butts up in the air. At one point two osprey flew close by overhead and then quickly departed.
I also saw a pretty flower. OK, it was a dandelion. Still, it was nice to see something brightly colored. I think I'm ready for spring; I'm missing my dragonflies and butterflies.
After watching the gadwalls dive for awhile it was time to head back; the walk back was a bit more fruitful in terms of observations. The sun came out for a few minutes and a belted kingfisher came out and flew around the marsh as I began my walk back to my car.
Just before I got to the parking lot, I saw two little winter wrens on rocks, and was able to get a fairly decent photo of one.
Observed on my walk: Downy woodpecker, belted kingfisher, cardinals, white-throated sparrow, winter wren, what I think was a cotton hispid rat (it moved too fast to get a positive ID, but it was a rodent), some turtles beneath the water surface, various little brown birds, American coots, gadwall, common goldeneye, mallards, osprey, great blue heron, Carolina chickadee, Carolina wrens, and what I think is a towhee but I only have a photo of the butt so I'm hoping a better birder than I am can ID for me.
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