Paws for Reflection

Bird Brains...is it Bad?

One of the things that I find hardest to deal with is the lack of animal stewardship in many countries.  Living in America for most of my life has given me a sense of entitlement to the many human rights I am afforded, and set my standards very high when it comes to the care and stewardship of animals. I forget, sometimes, that it’s different elsewhere, and I forget how privileged we are in the States.

Many times in my travels I have seen animals exploited in tourist shows, used for profit or for their labor, and some just flat out abused for no particular gain.  The concept of “pet” is intrinsically American, I think, and we spoil our pets – spending on their care and wellbeing what people in other countries would like to be able to spend on their children.

There are exceptions, of course – the whale watching tour that I went out on a few days ago had staff that were exceptional in their care for the animals and the environment, and I’m looking forward to going out with them again on Friday.  There are also horrific abuse and exploitation cases that happen in the US, although all are illegal and accompanied by heavy penalties. 

Mexico has come a long way since I first visited over 20 years ago, but I still see things that leave me appalled.  There is a bullring here in Puerto Vallarta that has incredible lines outside when it is open – many tourists find out the hard way that the bull always loses, and sometimes 4 or 5 bulls will die in a day.

There are other examples of the lower standards of animal care, but the ones that I find most tragic are those that are subtle enough to evoke pity, but not egregious enough to invoke outrage.  Those are the animals that suffer the longest, the ones that people shake their heads over, the ones that usually live months in captivity before dying and quickly being replaced.

I saw a bird show today, at the resort.  I’m staying at a Westin property – a big name, with hotels all over the world.  I believe that the majority interest in the Westin group is American, which makes today even more shameful.  I went to check on Mom by the pool, and was coming back from an errand to get her tangerines when I heard birds screeching.  (My grandmother had large birds for many years, and once you hear a three foot bird scream, you don’t ever forget it.  I was actually surprised that the birds at the Westin could only say “Hola”…my grandmother’s African Grays hardly ever shut up.)
I walked over to see four large birds on metal perches near the pools, with two trainers.

They were beautiful birds at first glance, and quite calm given the large crowd by the pool.  I was able to use the macro function on my camera within a foot of several of the birds, and not once did they attempt to bite me. (Did I mention how smart they are? PS - he is eating a peanut, but totally pretending that it is my head. The evil lurking in his eyes gives it away.)

I stopped to watch for a few minutes, and I noted that the birds were in somewhat ragged condition.  Most were nothing obvious – ragged pinions, missing feathers, broken or twisted beaks. 

 

One poor bird, a beautiful peach color, was so nervous and sick many of his feathers were gone.  He repeatedly tried to fly off his perch, but since his wings were clipped, he would fall.  He also could not be coaxed to perform many of his tricks, and was just in general lethargic.  My heart hurt for the poor thing.

 

I will say that the trainers seemed to care for the birds, praising them generously, protecting them from the crowd, and not pushing the birds to perform past what they were willing to do, but the condition of the birds themselves concerned me.  Especially when the trainers said they were raising money for the conservation of birds!  I don’t know if these birds were rescues, if they were raised in captivity, or if they were purchased, but what I do know is that I am disappointed in the Westin for allowing the show without ensuring that the animals are being cared for appropriately. 

It’s too easy, I think, for large companies to perform to the standards set without maintaining their own.  A Westin property in the States would not be able to get away with having animals in that condition in a show, whether or not it’s free – the people at PETA would be picketing their doorstep in seconds.  But here, in Mexico, the standards are not yet so high, and so they don’t hold to the standards set on their properties in the US – a shame, in my opinion.  Then again, I’ve been told that I expect too much, that I hold to standards too high that are difficult to meet.  But really, if we don’t set our standards high, what can we ever hope to achieve other than mediocrity?

Exploring Some More...

Today was mostly a day of reflection for me. 

I’ve been working in the nonprofit industry for a few years now, and though I remain dedicated to helping improve the sector, I find myself lacking focus.  Somehow I need to refine the services that I offer to not only build capacity in the sector, but to add more value to the help that I provide.

The problem is that I *want* to help nonprofits, but how can I *best* help them?  I’m a great problem solver – I collect information like people accumulate dryer lint, and I am the one everyone turns to with questions, because (as a friend of mine once put it) I know “a lot of weird shit, and can probably answer [any] question.”  How do I turn that into a tool to help resolve the issues that plague philanthropy?  I haven’t quite figured that out yet.

I’ve got some details to figure out, some marketing to do, and a direction to define.  In the end, I’m just a girl with too much education, not enough direction, too much adventure and not enough sense to stay out of trouble.  All I really want is to make a difference, and the only thing I need is to figure out how best to do that.  Wish me luck – I seem to be in a sort of Mexican standoff, appropriately enough.

In the meantime, let’s look at some crabs!

In all seriousness, I love crabs – they come in all different sizes, and they are the masters of camouflage.  They’re extremely good at sensing when you’re trying to take a picture, and masters at hiding behind the one object you can’t maneuver around.  They’re cunning and sly, and fairly awesome at disappearing in that one moment between when you see them and when your finger depresses the camera button.  I have more shots of sand, and rock and fallen leaves that were formerly occupied by crabs than I can shake a stick at.  Although I have done plenty of stick (and camera) shaking at those empty spots, sometimes accompanied by choice crab-oriented cusswords.

They are simply amazing – they can survive underwater or on land, on rock or on sand, and they can cling to any surface through pounding surf and rushing water.

They can CLING to anything, seriously.

I know a lot of people who can say the same about their exes, actually.  Crabs tend to cause injury when threatened, some crabs steal their houses from other creatures, and crabs sometimes feed on the rotting corpses of their brethren…hmmm.  I wonder if we’re descended from crabs, instead of apes.  Could happen.

On the other hand, they have pretty colors and are super hard to get a hold of, so maybe it’s only Paris Hilton and lawyers that share their gene pool.

These little guys were fascinating too – I have no idea what they’re actually called, but I think they are some sort of clam, or barnacle.  They have a little creature that lives inside, but wouldn’t come out for the camera.  They kind of look like a bunch of eyes to me, but they’re pretty shy, so I tried not to traumatize them too much.

Speaking of traumatizing, PV has a pirate show.  I knew this.  For some reason, I equated it to the Pirates show in Vegas, which is a lot of sound and fury, but in the end signifies nothing. (Bonus points if you can identify the paraphrased quote).  For some reason it never occurred to me that Vegas is a DESERT, and PV is OCEANFRONT, and that the Pirate ship would actually sail.  Although it was a magnificent sight, the first cannon shot from the bow of this ship almost killed me, since I was hanging like a monkey off the side of some barnacle and slime covered rocks, trying to avoid bashing my head on said rocks while trickily photographing some crabs.  Imagine all that, then add a REALLY LOUD BOOM that sounds like it’s about 10 feet from your ear, followed by an “Argh! Surrender, ye scurvy bastards!” and you’ll have the almost-cause of my death by accidental drowning after I lost my grip and bounced my head off the rocks into the ocean.  I was OK once I noticed the giant wooden prow silhouetted against the sunset and the smoke from the cannons, but as I hadn’t been paying all that much attention to the goings-on in the bay, it gave me a little bit of a start. 

But in the end, like always, everything turned out A-OK.  I’ve learned (slowly) over the last few years that no matter how low things get, and how dark the road ahead, if I keep my head on straight and try not to lose sight of the things that truly matter to me, everything will eventually be fine.  I’m not a religious person, but for me – this is what faith is.  It’s what comes when no matter how much you may think that things won’t go quite so well, you believe that everything in the end will turn out just fine, and it does.  

Maritime Majesty in Mexico (Say THAT Five Times Fast!)

Did you ever have a day that was just so fantastic as to be almost unreal?  Today was one of those days for me.  A perfect juxtaposition of weather, company, and fate. 

The dawn was gorgeous.  The beaches weren’t as extensive as I’d anticipated, or even as pretty as those out in Nuevo Vallarta, but who can be mad at a view like this?

Even if you were inclined to start the day with a frown, THIS would make you turn it upside down, don’t you think? 

 

Yeah, me too.  We went out whale watching today, with a company called Ocean Friendly.  Let me preface this post by saying that I am VERY particular about the tour companies I use – I won’t contribute my hard earned dollars to those companies that operate irresponsibly, that damage the environment, or that don’t enjoy the experience as much as I do.  The point, after all, is to go and experience something, to revel in the things that make whatever you’re doing different from the everyday, to taste and touch and smell and feel everything about this thing that you’re trying to experience.  The purpose is not to check off boxes, to collect flair or to gather points in a global competition.  I don’t like to be rushed, I like to be able to ask questions to feed my brain, and I like to learn everything about what I’m seeing or doing purely for personal edification.  That just doesn’t happen in a group tour of a 100 people who cover 30 miles in 4 hours. 

I’m even more wary about ocean tours – I’m not a fan of the ocean, and the ocean is not a fan of me. I got extraordinarily lucky in Australia with the tour companies I went with – they were both excellent – but I still had some small mishaps while out in the waters of Oz.  Not today!

Today Mom and I went out with Oscar, to explore the Bahía de Banderas, which is a breeding ground for Humpback whales.  I have to hand it to him, Oscar knew his stuff, so the day was off to a good start already that he turned out to be more than just a (very) pretty face.  Then to find out that half of the 12 people on board were marine biologists, marine archeologists, and scientists studying the whale population and recording for a documentary?  MONEY.  I was in heaven.  I must have asked a million questions, and taken a million pictures.  As a side note, I have never missed my Nikon more.  There were multiple once in a lifetime shots, such as a tandem breach, where two whales come up and jump simultaneously, that I simply couldn’t capture with my little point and shoot Olympus.  I did, however, by the time it pointed and shot, capture the whitecaps left behind by their jump. H-e-double hockey sticks. o_O

There was so much to learn – Oscar was a font of information, sharing not only his knowledge but all of his theories built on studying the whales here for over 14 years.  I was fascinated by the genetic differences in the whales here in Puerto Vallarta, the changing migratory patterns and the evolutionary changes the whales have made in recent years.  Though all of the extra information given was super cool, it was ultimately Oscar’s instincts and knowledge that paid off – he predicted what the whales would do, judged by their behaviors what parts of the bay they would seek out, and explained to us what they were doing so that we too could (sort of) anticipate what they might do next rather than rushing from one side of the boat to the other like a bunch of blue-footed boobies.  Even better, very few of the other tour companies have any sort of experts on board, so not only were we able to see a phenomenal number of whales (even Oscar admitted it was unusual to see this many), but we were often the only boat in the area, and so the whales took VERY little notice of us, and went about their business as normal. 

I will say the only dark spot on today was the illegal boats that TWICE ruined our watching – they held no permits, paid no attention to other boats, and got so close to the whales as to put both the whales and the boats in danger. (Seriously, do YOU want to be 10 yards from something that is 50 feet long, weighs 40 tons, and can leave you swimming in debris 20 miles from shore? Not me!)

But, as Mother Nature had her children well in hand today, even the interruption by the picture poachers was short lived – the whales were there to mate, and nothing short of a sudden evaporation of the bay was going to stop them.  We followed a large mob of whales for a few hours, then broke off to follow the female.  The crew of the Twin Dolphins (our boat) had intended to try and get recordings of whale song, since they had sung quite a bit the previous day, but we had no such luck, and didn’t hear any singing.

We did follow the courting, the posturing, and the mating.  The courtship dance was neat to watch, with multiple males pursuing the lone female (yay) and the males showing off their tails, showing off their fins, and expanding their throats to make them look bigger. (Looks like male behavior is not limited by species.)

Once the female chose a male, they went deep underwater to mate, as apparently humpbacks are shy, and don’t mate on the surface (unlike the gray whales, those pervs).  They were down for quite a few minutes, which started quite a round of jokes.  My mother, of course, started it by saying if she knew males, it wouldn’t take very long, and they’d be back shortly.  O_O  (Then again, I opened my mouth and said that if we didn’t catch them mating, we could always catch them when they came up for a cigarette after, so I can’t throw too many stones…)

I’m totally glad that we caught the mating spot though, since the females will breach and jump after mating to express their joy.  I guess afterglow is different for every species, and there probably aren’t very many places to roll over and sleep on the ocean floor. 

All jokes aside, it was magnificent.  Here we are, this very small boat bobbing on the surface on one of the deepest bays in the world (5,200 feet at it’s deepest point), with some of the largest mammals in the world leaping through the air not 100 feet away.  Absolutely magnificent. There were moments today when we came so close it was almost as if you could reach out and run your hand along the grooves of their jaw.  Whales are highly intelligent creatures, and when you look at their size, their grace, and the sheer synchronicity they have with their environment, it really makes you wonder if humans are as high up on the evolutionary ladder as we think we are.  What is the yardstick that superiority is measured by?  Harmony with your environment? Whales:1 – Humans:0.  Functional community and peaceable interaction with other species around us?  Whales:2 – Humans:0.  I was amazed, after listening to Oscar and the other scientists on board, that whales have adapted so well to the damage we’ve caused to their environment, and how well they’ve done through evolution to adapt to the changes wrought by time, as well as humanity.  I was also really impressed by how unconscious their respect for the environment was – how it was ingrained, and every action taken today and every consequence was considered in the light of the bigger picture.  I didn’t see a single shortcut, a single compromise, not a single thought that would harm the inhabitants of the bay for the gain of the company.  Indeed, I saw that many times we went out of our way to make the whales comfortable, to respect their space, and to subject ourselves to their forbearance, which in the end paid off handsomely.

Everything today had gilded edges – the lunch that Oscar’s mom made us (she was a very lovely woman), the conversation I had with one of the visiting scientists (that ended with an invitation to the Caribbean – yay!), the crew that answered every question, and the whales that shared their joy with us.  I have to give respect to Oscar, to the captain Lucio, and to the crew as well, though – they were extremely careful to give the whales the space they needed to feel unthreatened, and still managed to provide us with a fabulous experience.   They even took a special trip to drop us off on the other side of the marina so that we didn’t have to take a cab back – now that’s service. 

We didn’t do much else today, there really was just no way to top the experience we had on the water – truly once in a lifetime.  I’m a little sad I didn’t have the equipment I needed to record it, but I’m so very glad I had the chance to live it. 

Once Again in Mexico...

Who in their right mind invented the early morning flight?  Probably the same guy that invented panty hose and non-recyclable plastic.  I’m going to give him a little bit of credit and say that the two hour security process brought on by 9/11 probably couldn’t have been foreseen, but there are very few things I can think of that are better done at dawn than later in the day.  Dueling with pistols and watching the sunrise are really the only two.

I personally feel that dueling with pistols while watching the sunrise would have been preferable to me getting up this morning at 3.45 am to go to the airport.  All the coffee in the world can’t make that a happy time, especially when I didn’t get to bed until almost midnight.  (For a person as organized as I am that travels as often as I do, I find it a bit humorous that I always end up packing at the 11th hour, sometimes moments before I’m due to depart.)

But I got up, and I got to the airport.  Two flights, innumerable delays, and a half a dozen cases of déjà vu later, we’re back in Puerto Vallarta. 

(On a side note, I haven’t been through DFW airport in a long time, but it’s NEAT!  We got sidelined for a bit with a two hour delay on our connecting flight, so I had a ball walking around after lunch for a few minutes and snapping shots of some of the neat art and mosaics in C terminal.)

My favorite was the bird and tree mosaic:

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Although the brushed aluminum cityscape that you could walk through was a close second:

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And the award for pure serendipity goes to the mosaic under our feet when we were boarding.  I couldn’t get a bigger picture due to the sheer number of people standing on it, but I got a chuckle out of the fact that the only part of the mosaic that was visible amidst the feet of all the travelers was the section with the feet of the cowboy in the mural.

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The flight to Mexico wasn't that bad.  Our airline attendant (flight person, service attentant, steward, whatever they're calling them these days) was FABULOUS.  I love it when I travel on a plane where someone has a sense of humor - AND it was American Airlines! I was SHOCKED.  It helped alot, since we were seated in the next to last row of the plane, next to the loudest jet engine manufactured in the world.  I think if they weren't attached, my eardrums would have vibrated themselves right out of my ear canal.  On the upside, I did manage to sleep for most of the flight - the droning noise actually put me right out.  (Just ask the people I run with at the fire department, I can sleep through QUITE a bit. I just hope this time I wasn't carrying on conversations with complete strangers, as I've been known to do...)

So we're here... and the first stop after checking in is...WAL-MART.  I know, I know, I hate contributing to crass commercialism and big conglomerate businesses, but there's really no other way to stock up for a week without traveling all over God's country.  On the other hand, a Mexican Wal-Mart is a totally different place, although they still give you the same funny looks when you walk around taking pictures...

Whatever, haters.  The produce department was the best.  The colors are so vibrant, and they have tons of cool stuff, like Chayote (sin espinas).  I'm not quite sure what Chayote is, how you eat it, or what it actually looks like with spines (sin espinas = without spines) but it's awfully groovy looking.

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I loved the contrast of the potates and the avocados, although I don't think the store INTENDED to make fresh guacamole that way...(poor avocados!)...

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But the real danger (for me) came in the pastry department.  My mom doesn't really care for Mexican pastries, since they're nowhere near as sweet as those in America, but my fat ass isn't quite so discriminating.  I like 'em all, and they're all delicious.

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But I'm being good, and so we only got a sampling for this week... it totally doesn't help you resist that the way you buy them is that you walk around with a HUGE tray and tongs...it's like they're saying, "sure, just pile another one on there!"

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BUT I'M BEING GOOD, DAMMIT. (Ok, not that good, but I'm definitely TRYING.)

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Whether you're tempted by pastries or not, the Wal-Mart is definitely an experience.  In addition to expensive clothes, a limited selection of toiletries, and a magazine aisle with more gossip magazines than you can shake a stick at, they have things I love (that are VERY hard to find in the States) like fresh beets...

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...And some things you wouldn't find me eating if you PAID ME A MILLION DOLLARS, like chicken feet.  (My ex-brother-in-law used to eat them all the time, and I cringe every time I hear them crunching. *UGH*).

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This week is going to be wonderful.  I'm ready to relax, Mom is ready to relax, and everything is in place to do just that.  The resort is decorated for the holidays:

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The country is gorgeous, sunny and warm...

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...and both Mom and I each have a private jacuzzi tub on our balconies that overlook the beach.  Really, what more can you ask for? So...

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...weary, traveled feet and all, we’ve arrived in Mexico, and it’s gorgeous. With all the delays and the long day traveling (I'm deliberately not mentioning the heinously early start because it makes my face twitch), Mom is more than ready for a nap, and I think I am too.  (Ok - I say nap, but what this really means is that once we get settled in and unpacked, I'm going down for the count, probably by 8pm. Shameful). Tomorrow is supposed to be sunny, warm, and a tailor made perfect day.

We're here, it's beautiful, and I'm so looking forward to tomorrow.

Who Doesn't Love The Snow?

I finally got back after my weekend nor'easter back home in NY, but it took me TEN HOURS to get here on the highway.  Ugh.  I love to drive, but between tolls, tourists, and traffic, I was ready for a cocktail midway through New Jersey.  Although it could have been have been the fact that I was in New Jersey that made me want a drink.  Who knows.

But anyway, I love the snow.  Correction - I love to play in the snow.  I love to walk in the woods in the snow, build snow forts, make snow angels, have snowball fights, and catch snowflakes on my tongue.  I do not enjoy shoveling snow, sliding in snow while trying to walk upright, or having snow put down the back of my shirt by someone related to me.

I do like me some frozen water though, and luckily while I was home I got PLENTY of it!

Well, I inadvertently brought back some of the snowy joy to Virginia with me.  I stopped by Sal's on Monday (once it finally stopped snowing and we could get out of the driveway again) to pick up Mom's sausage - every time someone goes home, we stock up on sausage from Sal's butcher shop in Rotterdam.  It's been there on Guilderland Avenue for years and years and years, and I think they're in the 4th generation of family running it.  I love small town American shopping! (This is also a small town butcher where everyone leaves their cars running in the parking lot in the winter while they buy meat, and they're all still out there when they're done, and WARM!) The boys at Sal's make all of their sausage and stuff by hand, and if you want ground chuck or hamburger, you pick out the roast, and they grind it for you.  GORGEOUS.

   

Well, I picked up 20 lbs of sausage, took it out to the car and put in the cooler...and realized I had forgotten to bring ice for the cooler.  DOH.  Luckily it had snowed 28 inches in three days, so I just gathered up some armfuls of snow from the parking lot and packed the cooler to the brim with Sal's parking lot snow.  Talk about a full service shop.

(As a side note, I then proceeded to run a few more errands and meet a friend for lunch...thereby forgetting all about the sausage in the car.  Another reason to love New York?  By the time I remembered that I had $80 worth of sausage in the backseat, it was 8 am the next morning - but when I went out to check it, it was 6 degrees below zero and not a single snowflake had melted.  Where else can you forget you have meat in the car for almost 18 hours and have it be frozen by the time you remember?  Suh-weet!)

Anyway, the snow lasted until I got home to Virginia, which was quite a feat after my ten hour commute down Interstate 95, during which I think I paid four times the value of my car in tolls.  Delaware was my favorite - there's a toll to get in, and then a toll to get out.  I wonder if they have a problem with population retention?

So here we are back in VA, the temps are in the high 40's, low 50's, and I've got a cooler full of snow...

What to do, what to do....

SNOWBALL FIGHT!!!!

Lou and Dora both LOVED the snow. 

Homer was VERY curious (shocker) and stuck his whole head in the cooler to smell what he could smell...

 ...and either he smelled the aura of Sal's sausage or he really likes the taste of parking lot, since he started to eat the snow.  He is the STRANGEST dog.

 

Strange though he may be, he's not the slightest bit stupid, and once the snow started flying the HoJo was OUTTIE.  He wanted absolutely nothing to do with it, and was taking no chances on getting pegged with flying snow.

 

Dora, on the other hand, rode the short bus out onto the back porch, and was ALL ABOUT snowballs.

Lou and Dora both had a blast with the snow, even though it only lasted about an hour.  Lou was throwing chunks of snow willy nilly and Dora was doing her best to catch them in mid-air...

...with somewhat limited success.

Bless her heart, though, she kept trying and trying...

 

...and she was pretty adamant about playing with the snow.  Lou was too, and so a slight competition developed to see who could commandeer the most snow...

...and I gotta tell you... when it comes down to pure cleverness and underhanded tactics...

...my dog is much more cunning than my 5 year old nephew. 

 

It's a bit sad really, although she is a clever, clever puppy.

We did eventually burn through all the snow, but before the last flake melted away, Lou and I decided to make a snowman - this may be the only snow he sees this year, since the temps for this coming weekend in Virginia are supposed to be in the 60's.  (SERIOUSLY - how can you doubt global warming when it's 60 degrees at the end of December??)

Step One:  Gather all remaining snowflakes into pile shaped mass.

 

Step Two: Awkwardly pat snow into somewhat round ball with Pillsbury dough boy gloves to make the base of the snowman.

Step Three: Repeat Step Two to make snowman look taller.

Step Four: Use dead plants on the deck to supply hair, eyes, nose, arms and "candy cane snack" for snowman.

Step Five:  Watch the snowman melt into the deck, and wave goodbye.  "Fare thee well, small snowperson. Fare thee well."

Life is Funny Sometimes...

I've said before that you won't always get what you want, but that you will usually you get what you need.  I think though, since we are human and often flawed, that we will sometimes miss the things we need in our disappointment in not receiving the things that we want.  We miss the open window in staring at a closed door, so to speak. 

I've been blessed in my life.  I have my health (barring the occasional gifts from my 5 year old nephew and his germ-ridden contemporaries), I have my family, I have my pups, and (for now, at least) I have a roof over my head and food in the fridge.  And yet. 

I have my own business providing consulting services, which I enjoy, but I wonder sometimes what the purpose is?  How does what I do change the world?  How does what I do affect people in a positive way?  Are there things I could be doing better, differently, or not at all that would bring joy and peace and prosperity to those I love and the world we live in? 

I don't know.  I don't know where I'm going with my life, what I'm heading towards, or if the things I do (with the best of intentions) have any sort of impact at all.  I've said before that my greatest fear in life is insignificance, and lately I'm feeling like that is more and more a possibility. 

I need to get my head in the game.  I need to clear out the chaff of insecurity, possibility, potential catastrophe(y), and all the other -y's that are in there, and focus on the really important questions:

What do I want to accomplish with my life?

What kind of person do I want to be?

What am I willing to give up to get there?

I think I've got a lot of the answers I need already, and some of the answers that I think I had have just produced more questions, bless their little interrogatorial hearts.  It's time, I think, to take stock, to clear the shelves, and to make room for the things that count. 

Of course, until that all happens, I'm thinking I'll just stay confused.

Am I the only person that's ever felt this way? I know that I can't be, but man, sometimes it sure feels like it!

I'm one of those people that looks out the icy window and *wills* Spring to come, then gets frustrated when the snow and ice are still there the next day. :-P

I know that I'll eventually figure everything out, but I am a decisive and sometimes impatient being.  I'm not very good at the whole waiting part of "all good things come to those who wait", but I'm working on it!

(P.S. If anyone out there in Internet land has figured out the secret to speeding these things up, let's sit down for a cocktail so I can pick your brain. :-D)

The Snowpocalypse Continues...

So it's still snowing.  Three days of snow.  I love it.  Even if the Four Horseman wanted to come knocking on the door, visibility is limited, and they'd probably get lost in the drifts. Whew!

We've had a great weekend being shut in. There's been food and booze and laughter and family and Uno and coffee and all kinds of good times.  Little Tom's wife Laurie and Danielle both came over, and we spent the afternoon making (and SAMPLING!) cookies.  Deee-licious. 

It's a lot of work, though, to bake and sample and sample and bake and measure and clean and sample... and Aunt Deb looked at the kitchen and Oh. Mah. Goodness.

 

Danielle was the first to succumb to the Cookie Coma, which is a phenomenon seen only during the holidays, but man, she gave it her all!

 

We didn't stay in the house ALL day - there was about an hour break in the snowfall, and we went out to the mailbox (yup - it's a journey) and cleaned off the cars.  I love being here - there's something about being amongst this group that makes even the mundane stuff fun.

We all got bundled up to go out and drop Aunt Deb's cards in the mail, and Bryan had to help Kelly on with her boots - it was the cutest thing I've ever seen.  Firstly, she had this ridiculous lumberjack hat on (which I got a great video of Bryan breakdancing in) and these white, fluffy, laced up boots with blue pom poms.  Fabulous.  My ever gallant cousin gave her a hand getting them on, but he was such a gentleman about it that you got that little melty "awwww" feeling just looking at the two of them. Did you ever see a couple that (even though they're young) you can totally picture them as a cute little old couple, holding hands in the park?  That's my cousin and his girlfriend.

So we all got bundled up...trekked out to the mailbox..

 

...and Presh had a blast running through the cleared places.  She can't go too far, since the snow is higher than her head, but she's pretty intrepid about venturing in the places that have been plowed through.

 

And honestly...the snow just makes you want to boogie.

We played a little Uno...

 

Ok, just kidding.  We played one game of Uno that lasted two hours and got almost riDONKulous.  I think at one point I had at least 40 cards in my hand. Disgraceful.

Bryan eventually won, and it was SUCH A RELIEF, but we had a great time anyway.  UNO!

Aunt Deb and I took a walk after dinner, and though my camera isn't too great at taking pictures at night, I did get a cool shot of Aunt Deb's rhododendrons...the snow came down in such a way that they look like cotton plants...check it out:

 

In any event, I think that THIS is what I miss most about winter up home.  The weather will often be the catalyst for spending time with those you love, and will accept no excuses about schedules or appointments or prior obligations.  The daily tasks that fill our schedules to the brim with mundanities hold no sway over Mother Nature, and there's really nothing you can do but accept it gracefully and make the best of it.  And it is the best.  You have a chance to reconnect with those you love, and at times, get a deeper understanding of those that you would otherwise not take the time to know.  So while the snow and ice and winter weather may seem to some an inconvenience, to me it's a gift.  I will remember these days the most when I am old, the times I spent in the company of those I love, looking out the window and marveling at the snow, arms wrapped around each other to ward off the cold.

Good Times Good Times

I {HEART} my family.  I may be a bit biased, but no lie, they are the best in the universe. 

We had a GREAT day yesterday.  Warren finally sold all of his buildings to Schenectady, so the day was off to a great start - and he had a great time gloating over his new bank account balance.  (I will admit, I've never seen that many zeros, fer sure.)

 

We had a fabulous morning, Aunt Deb and Precious made plans to take a little walk in the snow, and it was GORGEOUS out.  (Ok, cold and snowing, but still beeee-autiful!)

 

I have never lamented my lack of real camera equipment more.  I haven't been able to replace my digital SLR since my Nikon decided to go swimming in Costa Rica, so I've been making do with my Olympus.  Don't get me wrong, my Olympus is a workhorse - waterproof (coffee proof), shockproof (which is good, since I've dropped it 9,345 times already) and freezeproof (since it was 11 degrees outside last night).  However, it takes shitty shitty night pictures, and isn't good for anything more than 10 feet away.

(YES, I said ELEVEN DEGREES. Today's high is only NINETEEN.)

SO, the lovely bluejay that lives in my aunt's yard is forever uncaptured on film, since he won't come close enough for me to get a decent picture.  Even the little wrens that come to the feeder are a bit fuzzy, since I can't get close enough to get a good picture - just enough so you get the idea.

But who needs clear pictures when you've got lots of booze?  It's not like the pictures are going to come out any clearer than your vision was!  It adds that touch of realism and ambience that we all crave. You know.

The night just kept getting better.  Aunt Deb got out her bottle of 1980 Dom Perignon, and we all toasted to family and love and a new year full of good things. 

The champagne was actually reallllly good (although I'm not a big champagne drinker) and I made a resolution that when the family comes down to VA, we will open the bottle of 1985 Dom that I have in the house.  I'm SO looking forward to it!

 

Well, you know after that, it got a little squirrely.  And by squirrely I mean fargen hysterically fun.  My cousin Bryan demonstrated his "Jazz Hands"...

...and then Bryan and Little Tom demonstrated their "NY Hands", or how to talk like a New Yorker.

First, you do like this:

Then, you go like this:

   

And you're done!  Now you can talk like a New Yorker!  (Although to truly sound like a native, you should add at LEAST three to four curse words and one F bomb per conversation. I'm just sayin'.)

So Aunt Deb and I played Boggle (I won, heartily, but bless her heart she was game to play until the bitter end!), then we all played Scattergories (I won, but it was CLOSE...if only Bryan didn't have that 3 points from the Ku Klux Klan answer...), then we moved on to Pictionary, a game "that Mel won't win."

OH. BUT SO WRONG YOU ARE, YOUNG JEDI.

It was the Girls against the Boys (and Aunt Deb, to even out the numbers) and no matter how they tried... the girls were the winners. Natch. 

There was a lot of huddling to discuss strategy...

 

...and some fantastic illustration.  There were some teams that were definitely better are drawing than others...Me and Little Tom were "Pi-motherfuckin'-cassos" and SMOKED the competition.  We had dead people, the Energizer Bunny, and pockets that were so well depicted they were almost REAL enough to jump off the whiteboard!

   

Then, there was "CRUSH".  Aunt Deb and Kelly were the artists, and for the life of us, we couldn't figure out where Aunt Deb was going with her triangles and arrows, or how it related to "crush".  Thank God for Kelly and her crumpled beer can drawing.  Our point! Woot!

   

There were a few other good ones (Virgin Islands?  Tommy - how the HELL did you get that one???), but the night was fabulous.  We ended up winding down in the AM, since Little Tom had to work in the morning, so he and his wife Laurie left to go home, and we all crashed. 

What a FABULOUS time.  The snow was really coming down outside, everyone braved the weather to spend time together, and it was the best gift I could have received.  I see everyone so infrequently, and it was wonderful to sit and eat and drink and talk and laugh with those I love.  2008 is ending SO well, and I'm so looking forward to 2009.

Home Sweet Home...

Well, I'm finally home.  It's been a bit of a tumultuous week - I've rescheduled my trip home three times trying to accommodate potential clients (who ended up jerking my chain and not giving me anything worthwhile...) BUT NOW I'M HERE...let the drinking commence! MWAHAHAHAH

My mom was a bit worried about me coming up - I always take the back roads through PA, since it's about the same distance as coming up the 95 corridor, and a MUCH prettier drive.  (And given my aforementioned great love of animals, it gives me a chance to interact with the state animal of Pennsylvania, the sawhorse.)

 

Although I malign PA - this time it actually WAS NOT THAT BAD.  There was only ONE spot of construction, and it was only for TWO miles! I think it's because of the recession - they must have cut the road repair budget.  I LOVE IT! Yay! I have found the silver lining in the dark cloud of the economy!

I love driving though - any place, any time.  Sometimes in VA I get a bit frustrated - there seems to be a higher concentration of idiot drivers down there.  (I thought this was just me, until the town where I live and the town where I run fire BOTH made the top ten list of America's Worst Small Town Commutes! I also, over the last few years, have started taking pictures while I drive.  They never turn out as well as I think they should, but I continue trying to capture the great stuff I see through my windshield.  One of the reasons I love to drive home through PA is that the scenery coming through the mountains into Central NY (I'm from the Central Leatherstocking Region of NY, btw) is FABULOUS, and driving along 88E, elevated above the valleys, surrounded by rocks covered in ice and snow, is about as serene a 7 hour trip as you can get.  The sun breaks through the clouds and hits the mountain, and it's so gorgeous you want to pull over and bask, except that the shoulder of the road is about 5 inches wide and you'll get creamed by a big rig. 

Well, nothing's perfect.  This year (for the first time EVER) I got pulled over and got a ticket on my way home. DAMN IT.  I am always SUPER careful about speeding when I come through NY, since NY cops don't play around AT ALL.  (This may be why people in NY are such awesome, courteous drivers, compared to the rest of the US, but that's another discussion for another day.)  Anyway, driving behind the big rigs makes me nervous, since I've lost two windshields to things flying off trucks, and I'm on an elevated highway with nothing but air between me and the valley floor.  No jersey wall, no wires, no safety net, just air and gravity if I should happen to go off the road.  In summer, this doesn't bother me.  In winter, with black ice and snow and only my little Tangerina on the road amongst the giants, I will freely admit I get a bit skittery. So, I tell you all that to tell you this:  I'm behind a modular home on a truck (house on a truck = HUGE - wide load and all).  I cannot for the life of me see around him, and he's going below the speed limit in the right lane (can't blame him, since those things are heavy and he's going up a mountain)...PS - no one really drives in the left lane in NY - it's for PASSING.

So, I'm nervous about being behind him, he's going slow, and there's no one in the passing lane.  So I pull over, zip my little orange car around, and pull back in the right lane...just in time to see the state trooper on the side of the road. GOD BLESS AMERICA. Yup - I pulled over immediately, and here he came along...light's a-flashing'. Sheee-it.  He got me on radar as going 82 in a 65, passing.  NOT HAPPY. 

I will say though, I love NY cops - he was incredibly polite, incredibly courteous, and since he said he saw that I was trying to pass a truck, he didn't give me a speeding ticket - he DID give me a ticket, since I WAS technically speeding, (and he said my registration was expired - WTF?  I JUST renewed it! Another lovely call to make when I get home - I [do not] HEART the VA DMV.), but he gave me a ticket for not wearing a seat belt and for having an expired registration.  Yeah, it sucks to have to pay a fine, but no points on my license, and no increase in my insurance. Whee! Thanks, officer!

(PS - avoid this stretch of road. There's a trooper there, and even though he's really nice, he'll give you a ticket.)

The irony of the seat belt ticket does not escape me, btw.  I am the QUEEN of the seat belt.  You ride in my car, you better be belted. You're in the backseat?  Seatbelt.  Riding in the trunk?  Throw on a seat belt.  Riding on my roof?  I'll get you some bungee cords and we can rig you a seat belt.  How ignominious that I've now got a No Seat Belt ticket on my record.  Oh well.  I can't afford the ticket or the ramifications on another speeding ticket, so sometimes I guess you get what you need and not what you want.

(Just keep in mind, as I told my mother - the funniest part about this whole situation is that if I had been going as my normal bat-out-of-hell self, I would have already been *IN* Rotterdam by the time the officer showed up to work that morning, thereby avoiding any ticket at all!  See what happens when I try to behave?  I try to be nice and drive a friend home, it costs me $300 when I pop a tire outside her house.  I try to behave and drive sedately so my mother doesn't worry - I get TWO tickets on the highway in NY.  PHOOEY.)

But anyway, notwithstanding police officer interventions, the threat of bad weather, and having to pay to pee in PA (Yes, you have to pay for the restrooms in Pennsylvania - No joke. They've got to fund their endless road construction SOMEHOW! See for yourself:)

 

I finally made it home. My aunt is fabulous and graciously allowing me to stay at her house, as always.

So here I am, large and in charge. Since I went out with my cousin Bryan and his girlfriend Kelly last night to Mahar's in Albany and ate almost a half a pound of bacon and horseradish cheddar cheese, I am  definitely larger than I was when I got here, but man, it was DELICIOUS.

Given that I was with my favorite cousin:

 

...and we're not exactly known for being humorless, or failing to egg each other on into mischief, I don't suppose it's too much of a surprise what was left of the cheese took on a life of it's own. 

 

Ah...cheese. So delicious, so perfect...so perfectly susceptible to corruption.

 

There's also a GREAT video of the cheese (after downing a few) beginning to bitterly complain about speeding tickets and TPS reports...I'll upload that to YouTube soon and we can all enjoy.

I didn't get a chance to record the two friends of Bryan's who joined us or the creepy guy at the end of the table who kept hitting on Kelly and conducting a financial planing meeting with his friend, so you'll have to use your imagination...I'm sure you're up to it.

So, all in all, it was a GREAT night.  (It must have been, since I slept RIGHT THROUGH my intentions of getting up to watch the sunrise this morning!) Tonight's going to be just as fun, I think, if everyone can make it out here - it's been snowing for about an hour and the roads are already bad, but the fam is all supposed to gather here for dinner and possibly some highly competitive games of pinochle.  It could be dangerous. Prepare yourself.

(But I LOVE THAT IT'S SNOWING!!!! I miss the snow down in VA - but I sure don't miss shoveling!  We're supposed to get a minimum of 14 inches, and it'll be a white Christmas this year for SURE!)

 

I miss my pups, but my aunt's pooch Precious is here, and she's a lover.  She's super little (compared to my beasties), she's got a nub of a tail that wags a million times a minute, she barks ferociously at bears (from behind the glass, natch) and she LOVES sausage and cheese.  (Who doesn't?)

The dog is here, the family is coming, and the snow is coming down to beat the band.  So we're going to hunker down, open some wine, light the fire and fire up the hot tub, and enjoy the company of family and friends over some cutthroat card games and munchies.  Who can ask for more?

GR[attitude]

Though you are my mommy and I love the squeaky toys you bring me (for they are delicious and have stuff inside which I delight in strewing about the house once I have slain the evil squeaker)...

 

I do not appreciate when you try to "play" with my prey.

It is MY kill. 

MINE.

 

Careful, mommy...Careful.

*sigh*

Never mind.  I forgot you buy the kibble.

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