East Greenwich Music and Wildlife 2009

Last year, it was bagpipes and owls and foxes; this year, it's brass bands and hummingbirds and deer. The bagpipers seem to have moved on to another venue, or maybe demand for bagpipe artistry is another victim of this economy, or else they all got some kind of brain infection that caused them to actually hear the instruments they were playing; in any case, Wednesday night is no longer Bagpipe Night at Ichabod House. Bummer. I guess.

I haven't seen any owls so far this summer, but I also haven't been looking for them. On the other hand, I also wasn't looking for a teeny tiny hummingbird nest in our ash tree, and I found that, so I guess I'm doing something right.

Have you ever found yourself in a position where you have to ask someone if they did something that only an idiot would do, and you know that person isn't an idiot, but the thing happened, and you can't think of a good alternate explanation, so you go ahead and ask the person anyway and make it seem like you think he's an idiot? No? Well, anyway, on a related note, I asked Chris last week whether he had happened to swerve wildly the last time he'd mowed the lawn, thus shearing off the tops of all the hostas along the edge of the backyard. With a look that said My God, what kind of idiot do you take me for? he replied that no, he had not shaved all the hostas with the lawnmower. In fact, we have been visited by a deer. I've seen her eating the shrubbery across the road every day for the past week, and the neighbor's hostas have been clipped as well, and I don't think Chris ran next door with the lawnmower just to destroy the landscaping, so all signs point to the deer.

As for the brass band, there was a small brass ensemble playing at the church ice cream social up the street. I don't have a witty story about that. We enjoyed hearing it.

This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things

See, this is what happens when I try to take advantage of a teachable moment when Soren expresses an interest in both measuring things and going outside. I hand him my good straightedge and tell him we're going to measure how deep the snow is, and let him outside while I'm putting my boots on, and then when I come outside he asks me where the ruler is, and I ask HIM where the ruler is, and it turns out he's dropped it into the crawl space under the deck, and I'm not going under there because there are dead spiders, and so my good straightedge is gone FOREVER. And I have to buy a new one. That's it! No more learning.

Note: Comments pointing out that I shouldn't have given a toddler my good straightedge will be deleted.

Why Smoke Crack When You Can Knit

I bet the two habits cost about the same. I have nothing of note to report -- no current or pending hospitalizations, although I still can't hear out of my left ear -- so I figured I'd post some pictures of the stuff I've been knitting. And then you can leave comments telling me how cute it all is. I live for comments.

First: hats. I am knitting baby hats like a crazy person. I am currently working on my fourth Sweet Baby Cap, and will probably make a few more before I decide I'm bored with that pattern. It's just so cute! And stripy! And it makes Sigrid look like a spaceman (well, spacewoman)!



I also made a Bobble-Textured Hat a few months ago with some lovely merino-possum blend yarn (Australian possums, not American opossums). It finally fits Sigrid, sort of, so here's a picture.



I've also knocked out a couple sweaters... boy, it really sounds like I have too much time on my hands, doesn't it? Anyway, this one was made with the kick-ass alpaca that Amber spun and dyed herself. Talk about an awesome Christmas present. Sigrid says the sweater makes her feel super.



Finally, a moss-stitch cardigan from the supremely lovely Rowan Pipsqueaks pattern book, which is second only to Rowan Babies. Kim Hargreaves is a fantastic designer -- simple, classic sweater designs. I think I'll make a few more of this design as well to give as gifts.



Okay, now I'm going to go tell Soren to stop kicking the wall. He keeps finding new things to do in place of napping. I think I prefer it when he sings the alphabet song.

Overdoing the Halloween Decorations

As Kirsten's previous posts mentioned, her mom worked hard to decorate our house for the upcoming fall holiday while she was here when Kirsten was bedresting.  She made a wreath for the door, arranged mums on the stoop, cutout paper ghosts for the light fixture in the dining room, strung black skull garland over the fireplace, and apparently put a very realistic bat in the basement. What do you think?

OK, so Kirsten's mom probably didn't have anything to do with it, but that's a live bat in our basement. Right in the stairwell, at eye level when you open the door from the dining room.

We discovered it last Sunday evening, as I was putting the tools away after moving around our over-the-air HD antenna. I don't have anything against bats, so I gave it a few days to leave. It was there every time we checked, and other than possibly bat-caused thumps against the basement door on Monday and Tuesday evenings, it showed little inclination to leave. So on Tuesday night, we decided to help it. We opened the french doors and the basement door, and sat in the dark for a few hours, hoping it would just fly out on its own. No movement.

Then, I decided to help it. I put on gloves and a jacket, and armed with a tennis racquet and window screen, I swatted the wall near it, hoping it would fly away. No movement. Then I nudged it with the tennis racquet. It moved alright, but dropped straight to the floor and didn't move. Uh-oh. I trapped it in a bucket, without touching it, and carried it outside, vowing to call the health department in the morning.

When I was connected to the infectious disease nurse and explained the situation, she wanted to test the bat right away. So I canceled my meetings and drove home to get the bat and drive it to its demise in the state lab. However, when I got home, the bat had escaped. Good for the bat, I thought, it is not sick after all. However, when I called the infectious disease nurse back to share the good news the bat must have been fine, she had a different interpretation.

Long story medium-length, I'm now receiving treatment for rabies exposure. (It is extremely unlikely I was exposed, but there is no treatment for rabies so symptoms=death, and I'm not really willing to bet my life (literally) I was not sneezed or drooled on by the bat.) This is a series of shots, five on the first day, and then four more over the next few weeks. It's fine, as years of allergy shots and blood donations have desensitized me to needles, but somewhat inconvenient. 

There's also this surreal quality to receiving this treatment...I'm being treated for what?  Sorta like living in Alaska: I live where?

Eating and Drinking with Daddy

Kirsten decided that I've been out of town plenty this summer, so now it's her turn. She's off in Denver with her adult sisters, leaving Soren and me to a guys' long weekend at home. I understand that today she enjoyed a "Day of Beauty," which, you know, is about time because, since my spa treatments in Vietnam, I've frankly been feeling a bit out of her league.

As you might expect, the absence of Mama has led to the erosion of the sobriety, morality and nutrition of her men. To wit, last night we went to the food court at the mall to have dinner. The remnants of Hanna were blowing through and we were trapped in the house all day, so it was nice to go to the mall to stretch. We got dinner from India Gourmet, which, it turns out, is really quite tasty, and convenient since no one cares what your toddler is doing at the mall food court.

Soren and I sat at a table across the aisle from another Dad and his 6 year old. They were squabbling loudly over the conditions under which the son would eat his dinner, fried chicken fingers and white rice. Soren was seated across from me, eating happily, without whining or fidgeting, his dinner, nan mounded with saag paneer, which is basically pureed spinach. While I'm constantly aware that Soren's food policies could change at any moment (witness chocolate cake), I couldn't resist a little smugness at the contrast of Soren politely eating spinach with the older kid having difficulty with fried food with little nutritional value.

Of course, not eating fried food doesn't count for much if you're drinking the wrong stuff. Especially if the wrong stuff is canola oil. Before dinner tonight (not at the mall food court, thank you very much), Soren felt I was a little slow at getting his apple juice, so perhaps I needed some help. He went to the baking cupboard and got out a bottle and put it on the table for me to pour into his cup. However, we keep the apple juice in the refrigerator, not the baking cupboard. In fact, he had given me a bottle that was remarkably like the apple juice: a Stop & Shop brand goldenish liquid in a bottle with a narrow "waist" about 2/3s of the way up, a trimmed rectangle below, and some more ornamentation above. He had found our vegetable oil, and was insisting that I pour some into his cup for him to drink with dinner.

Fortunately, he lost track of which bottle was "his" while I was taking pictures of him with this two bottles of "apple juice", so I was able to perform the switcheroo before he sat down to dinner.  (What, you think I'm up to actually posting that picture?)

Taking a Break from not Blogging

I have all kinds of good excuses for not blogging lately. My life isn't that interesting -- that's a major one. Also, everyone in the house has been sick, and Chris was in Vietnam in two weeks and is now in Anchorage for a week, and blah blah blah.

Soren had hand-foot-mouth disease (it's more fun to call it Coxsackie virus, frankly) over the weekend. The poor guy was covered in spots, had a fever, and was very sad because his mouth hurt. On Monday, Renee and Ian came over (Soren got Coxsackie from Ian in the first place, so it was OK for them to play together) (sorry to out you as a disease-spreader, Renee), and we had a nice time -- walked to the park, started making muffins, put Soren down for a nap when he started flipping out because the muffins weren't done yet, finished making muffins, ate muffins. I think all the excitement used up Soren's energy for the rest of the day, though, because all he wanted to do after his nap was watch Cars. We watched it three times. And I was not allowed to leave his side, or else much whining and screaming and "Mama, are you coming RIGHT NOW?!?!?" would commence. So Soren and I watched Cars three times on Monday. Unnnhhhhhnhnhnh.

The story has a happy ending: he feels better, and is back to his usual silly self.

I went to the OB for a checkup yesterday, and she said The Deuce was measuring a little large. Uh-oh. I mean, Soren was almost nine pounds, and he never measured large. Hmmm. Perhaps my special diet of Carnation Instant Breakfast, celery with hummus, and ravioli (not all at the same time) is some kind of fetus-embiggening regimen. If only I could choose to eat other things.

Soren had to come with me to the doctor's office, which he wasn't too thrilled about, but I psyched him up by telling him a) the doctor wouldn't be examining him; and b) he would get to hear the baby's heartbeat, and it sounds like "WWSHEEWWW WWSHEEWWW WWSHEWWW". In his words, "That's pretty silly!" When the doctor got the Doppler out and started moving it around to find The Deuce's heartbeat, it made its usual crackly noises, and Soren said, "It's a thunderstorm!" Then we got to hear the heartbeat, and he thought it was quite funny. I think the only major disappointment for him was the fact that they didn't have any lollipops, which are an important part of any doctor visit.

I'm Not in Vietnam

Just to clarify, Chris is the one in Vietnam. Not me. I'm having far too much fun enjoying the steamy jungles of East Greenwich to get on a plane for 16 hours. Actually, we had some sweeeet thunderstorms yesterday, which lowered the temperature nicely, so I think our weather might be nicer than Vietnam's now.

Mom and Kelly Ann left on Tuesday -- Soren and I miss them! We had a great time just hanging out and playing lots of Scrabble and Wii bowling. Mom did start feeling slightly insane really productive at a couple points during her stay -- she built some shelves for our kitchen cabinets and cut down a couple ugly bushes in our front yard. Thanks, Mom! And thanks, Kelly Ann, for making a really freaky-looking Mii that now shows up in crowd scenes and other random parts of our Wii games! He gives me nightmares! OK, not really.

Anyway, there's not much going on now... Soren and I are just going through our usual day-to-day routine and looking forward to Monday, when Chris comes back!

Everyone Enjoys our Yard

What's cooler than an owl in the backyard?

THREE owls in the backyard. All sitting on a branch fifteen feet away, glaring at me.

This sighting was followed (the same night and over the next few days) by glimpses of a skunk, a baby bunny, and this fine fellow:





We've decided that the owls aren't hunting mice in the grass -- they're hunting voles. For some reason, this makes me feel better. Maybe because voles won't try to come into my house and eat my cereal.

Until our yard is declared a wildlife refuge and becomes off-limits to recreational activities, we're having as much fun out there as we can. Gramma and Kelly Ann are here for a visit, and we've all been having a blast together! Sadly, I didn't get any pictures of Gramma teaching Soren how to do somersaults, but here are some other nice shots:






Finally, a moment of triumph: my BEST SCRABBLE WORD EVER.



The glory is tarnished very slightly by the fact that I had to tell Mom to pick another play when she wrecked my spot. But when "QUIXOTI" shows up on your tray, and there's a shining C sitting out there, waiting to be used, you do what you have to do.

Whoooo Likes Bagpipes?

(Post title by Chris)

I was sitting on the back patio last night, reading Kiki Strike: Inside the Shadow City (thanks for the recommendation, Sam!) when I noticed some movement on the lawn. It looked like a squirrel or some other small mammal, but when it suddenly flew into a tree, I realized it was an owl! In my yard! An red-phase eastern screech owl, to be exact. Much like this one (image lifted from jpmatth on Flickr):



I called Chris out, and we spent a good half-hour watching the owl swoop around the yard to the haunting strains of the bagpipes, until the fireflies started blinking and it got too dark for even our Totally Sweet Mack Daddy Binoculars to follow the owl's progress.

Also, when I went out this morning to check on the garden, there was fox poo by the tomatoes.

Cool: wildlife in the yard.
Not as cool: realizing that the owl caught at least five mice in the lawn in half an hour, and there were still enough left over for a fox. On the other hand, the mice attract some pretty cool predators, and I can live with that.

E.G.'s Happenin' Music Scene

It's Wednesday night, or, as we call it here at Ichabod House: Bagpipe Nite! Almost every Wednesday, a small group of bagpipers, occasionally accompanied by a drummer, practices in the empty parking lot across the street. It's pretty cool, although I wish: 1) they would write more than two songs for the bagpipes; and 2) they would stop playing at 7:30. But besides that, it's amusing, and toddlers like to dance to it (just ask Soren and Ian).

Last Wednesday, after Chris got home from work, we all took a little walk around the neighborhood and stopped at a playground for a little while. We could still hear the bagpipes pretty clearly through the neighborhood from a quarter-mile away, so I guess Ichabod House isn't the only one that gets to appreciate Bagpipe Nite. Anyway, after a little while, we started hearing a drummer playing not too far away, so we went to check it out... and there was a fife and drum corps playing at the Kentish Guards armory! They, too, were being appreciated by toddlers, as several families sat across the street listening. The fife and drum corps practice is apparently another regular Wednesday thing in summer, so I guess we'll have our choice of old-skool flava. It's kind of awesome.

If You Live in Alaska, Go Ahead and Laugh

Okay, I admit it.... I'm full-on crazy jealous of my friends in Anchorage right now, because it is freaking gross hot here, and will continue to be so for a few days. Yesterday, on the first day of the heat wave, when it hadn't gotten hot in the house yet, I was feeling all green (ecologically-minded, not nauseated) and was like, "Oh, let's not put in the air conditioners this year. It's not that bad! The house is shaded!" But today, I'm feeling more like punishing the environment, because it started being mean to me first, so the ACs are in. Plus Soren is running a little fever, so we should probably be nice to him.

My poor little guy -- all he wants to do is sit on the couch and watch me play Mario Kart. Chris will get extra Father's Day props this year, because he's been doing things like washing the deck and fixing the bulkhead out in this heat, and I'm somehow taking care of Soren by playing video games. I'm sure it will all even out somehow as I get progressively larger this summer and suffer terribly as I carry his unborn child, but for now, Chris is the hero. Go Chris! You rock!

The Good Host

Soren showed off his hospitality and conversation skills yesterday! We were just getting home from daycare when our neighbor, Mrs. Moon, came by to give Soren a present -- a copy of The Three Billy Goats Gruff. Soren was understandably pleased to get a present, and decided to reciprocate: "Mrs. Moon come-a Soren's house!" So we invited Mrs. Moon in, and after a quick tour of his toy collection ("That's a truck!") and a request for a snack ("Mama, I need raisins! ....please!"), he patted the couch and said, "Mrs. Moon! Sit-you right here," (I love it when he says "sit-you") and then offered her a blanket. She asked if he would like her to read his new book, to which the answer was "Oh! Okay!" He listened attentively and occasionally held up a raisin: "That's a big raisin!"

For the rest of the evening, he was saying "Trip trap trip trap! Who's crossing over my bridge? That's Mama's bridge!" I hope that doesn't mean he thinks I'm a troll.

Wanted: Shower

Alternative title: Boring Crap about Water Heaters

Boy, the outpouring of personal secrets in my last post was just exhausting! Or maybe it was the romantic evening Chris and I spent on Sunday, cleaning wet boxes out of the basement because it turned out that there was a fair bit of water down there, and we thought it was flooding from all the rain we'd just had, but then we figured out that our water heater wasn't so much storing water as just giving it a place to rest on its journey to the floor, so we're getting a new water heater installed today. Sadly, we're not going tankless, because emergency water heater replacement isn't really the time to switch systems, but it would probably be prudent to schedule a tankless installation for March 11th, 2017, if everything I hear about water heaters' life spans is true.

The water heater at our house in Providence was over 40 years old. They just don't make 'em like they used to. On the other hand, they invented "efficiency" sometime in the last 40 years, so it probably would have been worth replacing.

For the Soren groupies out there, here's his latest milestone: forgetting people's names! Seth came over for dinner on Sunday, and Soren kept calling him "Steven" (he even told me that he wanted Steven to come over the next day). We had some friends over last night, and Soren kept calling their daughter "Molly" (her name is Brooke). I think there's a Molly in the preschool group at his day care, but I don't know any Stevens, so I don't know where he got that one.

Sorry about the boring post. Maybe we'll take a big trip to California tomorrow, just to liven things up. And then maybe I'll leave Soren in the capable hands of Gramma while I fly out to meet Chris in Hawaii. Yeah, that sounds good.

Child Labor

I mean, it's nice that he wants to help out, but I really think he could work a LOT harder:

Freedom from Fumes

Yesterday was a big day! It was Soren's first day at his new day care, and I got to use my press for the first time in more than 8 months.

I suppose you want to hear about Soren first. That's OK, I understand. He had a good time at "school" (that's what we're calling it), but who wouldn't? There were other kids to play with, and lots of toys and books, and little sinks where a toddler can wash his hands by himself. He cried for two seconds when I left in the morning, but got over it pretty fast... and he cried for five minutes when it was time to come home. So I guess he likes it there. The only issue was nap time; the toddlers have to sleep on cots at school, whereas he's only slept in a crib or Pack'N'Play up until now, so it was a new nap venue for him. He did sleep, but only for a half hour, which is not nearly enough for a day full of so much excitement. He had to take another nap at 6 PM, and then he could barely stay awake for dinner... poor little guy. Hopefully he will settle into the new nap routine and get a little more rest over the next few weeks. He's only going to school three days a week, so he gets some time to recuperate and spend time with boring old Mama.

Funny thing: there is a little girl in his class named Kirsten, and a little boy named Anderson! All we need are a Chris and a Patrick, and things will be super confusing for all of us. I can just imagine the teacher calling for "Soren, Patrick, Anderson!" and Soren looking up, all, "What did I do wrong?"

While Soren was enjoying school, I got to do some work, and it was very exciting. Mostly I did email and AdWords-related stuff, but I also got to use my new QCM guillotine paper cutter (cuts up to a 3/4" stack of heavy paper - very sweet) and print up some new note card designs. Here's one:



When the printing was finished, I decided to try something new: cleaning the press with baby oil. I usually use a "relatively non-toxic" chemical called California Wash, but I went to a shop the other day that does all their cleanup with baby oil and Simple Green, which seemed worth a try. It worked great! Finally, I don't have to worry about gross fumes and warnings that include "target organ effects". And I have a use for the baby oil we have hanging around, because I never really knew what to do with it before. In celebration, here is a beauty shot of my press with the new cleaner of choice! Yes, it's weird, but it's a really nice picture, if I do say so myself!



And if you somehow want to relate today's post title to the fact that I was spared from changing two poopy diapers yesterday, well, go ahead.

Oh, THAT'S Why People Have Kids!

Slave labor! I'm getting Soren trained early. He picked up his first snow shovel today, and was thrilled to help Mama pick up snow and throw it (although his method was more like "push snow and drop it"). We did some token shoveling, and then went for a walk, but didn't get very far before he started saying "mall shuvva" ("small shovel" -- he was using the little retractable shovel that usually lives in the car), so we turned around and did some more shoveling.

I'll try to get some pictures tomorrow. He's a funny boy.

If You Live in Alaska, Don't Read This

It's over 60 degrees right now, and I have the French doors open in the living room. So nice.

On a related note, Chris and I are finally going to watch An Inconvenient Truth tonight. We've already replaced most of our incandescent bulbs with CFLs at this point, so I'm hoping that will alleviate some of the horrible, horrible guilt.

Happy New Blog Title

OK, since we're not in Anchorage any more, as Erica pointed out, I need to come up with a new blog title, and I can't think of anything good besides Janitor Rivalry, which is my answer to every naming dilemma. Janitor Rivalry is technically already a blog, with its own domain and everything, which I undertook as a joint venture with my old pal Brian and only posted in once. And then neither of us wrote in it any more after 9/10/2001, so it looks like we tragically perished or something. Anyway, the upshot is that I can't think of a new name for this blog, and I want to use something more clever than "The Andersons' East Greenwich Adventure Extravaganza". So don't propose that.

Old deceptive blog name notwithstanding, we all had a wonderful Christmas! Grammy, Grampy, Aunt Rachel and Uncle Dude came to stay with us, and a good time was had by all. It's so nice to have a house with room for guests, even if two of them had to sleep in the same room as a printing press. We drank lots of espresso, ate lots of amazing cookies (baked by Grammy), took two days to open our presents, had beef Wellington for Christmas dinner (prepared by Chris), and went to Newport (much to the displeasure of Soren, who hated being wrested from his metric ton of new toys).



Oh, and there were martinis.



The day after Christmas, we were joined by Grandpa and Nana, who presented Soren with a Radio Flyer fire truck!




Grandpa (I prefer to call him Dad) also gave us two great pictures: one of him riding his own Radio Flyer fire truck when he was a young lad, and one of his dad (my Grandpa, obviously) and his brother in a Radio Flyer wagon in 1929!

In the interest of actually publishing this post at some point, I'll leave the rest of the tales for the next post. Happy new year!

Stupid Cool

For this entry, I will steal the Stupid Cool concept from my friend Mika, who for many years now has told tales of her travels largely by separating things into two categories: things that are stupid, and things that are cool. So here is my Stupid Cool of the moment.

Stupid: Everyone in the state freaking out because there were eight inches of snow on Wednesday. Traffic on the interstate was backed up for hours and hours and hours (not that I had to go anywhere, so ha), and some schoolchildren were stuck on buses until after 10 PM. Yes, I realize that RI is not AK, and drivers here don't have studded tires (or even snow tires, in many cases), but it's hard to see the system completely break down over 8 inches of snow when Alaskans would be saying, "OK... where's the rest?"
Cool: The temperature goes above 32 degrees occasionally, and the sun comes up well before 8 AM.

Stupid: The boiler breaking down sometime yesterday. It was fixed this afternoon in exchange for lots of money, and in the meantime, it was VERY COLD in here. Luckily, we didn't give away our space heater like we'd planned to last week.
Cool: Our house. Especially when the boiler is broken. HAR HAR

Stupid: We were supposed to have friends over on Sunday, and I was going to get to meet baby Margot Louise Andersen-Smith for the first time, but then there was a gross sleet storm and no one could drive anywhere.
Cool: Said friends no longer live 4,000 miles away, so I will probably get to see them at some point in the near future, and without an expensive plane ticket.

Stupid: Not having moose walking around the neighborhood.
Cool: Sorry, nothing's cooler than having moose walking around your neighborhood.

Stupid: I miss getting together with my Alaskan friends for knitting and coffee and dinner and lots of great spur-of-the-moment hanging out.
Cool: Blogging, email, Flickr, Skype, and all those other wonderful internet doohickeys.


Finally, what would a blog post be without a photo of Soren?

We're back!

Well, the Anchorage Adventure Extravaganza will have to be renamed, because we aren't in Anchorage any more. We got back to RI late on Monday after spending a night in Seattle (on purpose) and almost spending a night in Chicago (not on purpose). 

We definitely miss Alaska -- especially the friends we made there! -- but it's great to be settling in to our new house and getting ready for the holidays. I'm sneaking in a blog post when I should be cleaning the bathroom, and Chris is about to catch me, so I'm going to sign off -- I just wanted to say hi to all my loyal fans. I'll write more soon!