All posts by laurahinnj

Five things

I’ve avoided doing this meme thing, but am clueless tonight for anything to write about. The most interesting tidbit I’ve come up with so far is to tell you about the student I had to speak with after class last night because his behavior was so inappropriate. Anyone care to guess what this 18 year old young man’s excuse was? Turns out that the 20 year old sitting next to him was tickling him. Since when are young men still tickling one another in college? I left elementary-level teaching because I’m ill-equiped to do deal with this type of silliness. 10 year olds don’t understand my sarcasm, but you can bet this young man did.

So I’m supposed to come up with a list of things you don’t know about me. The challenge here is to make it entertaining.

  • When I was 15 or 16 years old I decided that I wanted to join the Peace Corps and travel to exotic places and help poor people, so I sent away for the information packet and application, but when it arrived it scared the crap out of my dad and I got a talking to. I also dated a guy from Costa Rica for a few years and my dad was afraid I’d run off and be living on a coffee farm.
  • I love green olives. Now that’s entertaining!
  • I’ll listen to a song I like over and over and over until I get sick of hearing it. I do the same with food. There was a time when I ate tuna on wheat with american cheese for lunch every day until it didn’t taste good anymore.
  • I have hyper-sensitive hearing for oddball sounds. Mostly annoying ones that drive me to distraction. Like the sound the ceiling fan is making all of a sudden, or the rattle-and-hum of my car. My husband, Mr. Fix-It, never hears this stuff.
  • I am useless with diagrams – especially in instruction manuals – I need a verbal list, preferably in number order, to understand how to do things. My husband has this intuitive sense of how things work that baffles me. I routinely have to ask students to help me set up the overhead projector so that they don’t have to look at things backwards and upside down. Plus, this semester my classroom is *technologically enhanced* – but I still need a student to help me get my laptop hooked up so that I can use PowerPoint to teach.

So that’s five things you didn’t need to know about me. Hopefully, I’ll be a bit more inspired tomorrow.

2/21/07 Mid-week bunny fix

Mr. Bean – ATB 2/21/04

I’m overly sentimental about my rabbits. That’s probably true for plenty of us when it comes to our pets, but for lots of people the definition of *pet* doesn’t extend far enough to include rabbits. I figure that’s only because they haven’t had the chance to fall under the spell of a long-eared companion yet. Lots of people don’t *get* how or why you’d keep a rabbit in the house, or keep a rabbit as a pet at all. Sure, they get into trouble and you have to mind their teeth on your furniture and electrical cords, but that’s easy enough to do. Having a house rabbit is a lot like living with a puppy that never grows up; there’s occasional puddles and they’ll chew the laces right off your sneakers if you leave them under the coffee table, but what’s not to love about the exuberance of a puppy, despite the havoc they cause?

Not all rabbits are so loveable, depending on their breed or temperament. Some have been abused or mishandled or ignored and never really get over it, but we love them despite the huge chip they carry on their shoulders. Often these are the ones who appreciate the chance at a new lifestyle the most, even if they won’t show it. They box and lunge and try to bite, but they dance while they think you’re not looking. They pretend to be ferocious even as they melt beneath a kind hand that touches them with love.
Mr. Bean, in the photo above, was loveable from the start and remained so for all of his short life. He was the first of my rabbits that I fell totally in love with and I still think of him and the ways he endeared himself to my husband and I. He’s still safe in my heart all these years later.

Water lily

How significant that the rich, black mud of our dead stream produces the water lily; out of that fertile slime springs this spotless purity! It is remarkable that those flowers which are the most emblematical of purity should grow in the mud.
– Henry David Thoreau, from a journal entry

I felt like looking at water lilies today, so I’m posting this pic from last summer of one that grows in my little pond. I’ve forgotten the name, but water lilies tend to be mislabeled when I buy them anyway. It’s beautiful, that’s enough!

My guilty pleasure for the day was going to a bookstore during my lunch hour. I bought a charming book of nature quotes, poetry, short essays, and watercolors called Meditations on Nature, Meditations on Silence published by Heron Dance Press. Their books are beautiful and I snatch them up whenever I come across one. Heron Dance also has a website that you might like to explore.

Focusing (or not)

There are certain things I like to do each day to make me feel as if it’s been worth the effort of dragging myself out of bed. I’m not a morning person and other than that delicious cup of coffee first thing, there isn’t much to lure me from the warm covers. The workday is something to be gotten through, unfortunately, and mostly I look forward to my time in the evenings. I stay up too late trying to fit in all the things that make a day worthwhile to me. When the weather and increased daylight allow it, I’m outside for as many hours as possible. Weekends and other days off from work are filled with as many postive and fun things as I can manage. I go to bed early and contented on the weekends.

I’ve often thought that I’d be happiest in a job that allowed me spend most of the workday outdoors. This realization only really came to me after I finished two degrees, both of which confine my days to a desk or a classroom. Before deciding to start my master’s so that I could teach and have the summers off, I used to daydream about a job picking vegetables. Or delivering mail. Anything to avoid sitting at a desk all day surrounded by people and their negativity. And office politics. I taught full-time for a few years and enjoyed summers free of any responsibility but to my own joy. I then decided to teach just part-time and took courses in horticulture and volunteered with a few favorite environmental organizations. I took a second part-time job with the park system as a naturalist. I learned to play the tin whistle, although not well.

Then other stuff came along and I had to go back to full-time work because, while I was having plenty of fun, I wasn’t making enough money at any of it. Being a grown-up stinks. So now I have the full-time job and all the drudgery that entails, plus I teach part-time, and still volunteer for a few groups. I’ve had to let the tin whistle fall by the wayside. I wasn’t making very much progress with it anyway, plus it scared the bunnies. My point (I think) is that all of our lives are very full and that’s a good thing. At least, for me it is. I’m not really focused in my interests and I’m as likely to pick up something new as I am to let something go when I find that it’s not working for me. Must be the Gemini in me.

One constant in my life and something that keeps me focused is nature and a love of the outdoors. Everyday I try to find some little bit of time to spend there. I look to it for optimism and strength. I look to it for the beauty that is so often lacking in other aspects of daily life.

Five beautiful things that I’ve spotted recently are:

  • 9 deer browsing in the woods where I like to walk the dog. I’ve never seen deer there, and was happy to see 5 of them with antlers proudly raised to watch me as I passed by.
  • Snowdrops blooming in a neighbor’s hillside garden, amid ice-covered branches that fell in the recent icestorm.
  • The endless shades of brown in a field of corn stubble, weeds, and winter trees.
  • Sandy Hook Bay is mostly frozen; if I focus on the near distance instead of the houses and naval base on the far shore, I can imagine that I’m looking at glaciers in the Arctic. Some seals would add to that effect.
  • The crows who have been warily visiting my feeders this week, snatching up peanuts and stale bagels. They never seem as beautiful as they do in the stark days of winter.

A multitude of small delights constitute happiness. -Charles Baudelaire

Stitch count

I’ve put aside (given up hope for) that gorgeous tree sampler cross-stitch I showed you a while ago and instead started something else (sound familiar?)

I found another design (something entirely different) online and special ordered the charts and special ordered the fabric and just finally this past week received everything I needed to get started. I’m good at starting – not so good at ever finishing.

So in an effort to stay on track and use the power of peer pressure (maybe it will help) I’m going to post a photo of my progress every month or so. My goal is to spend an hour at it each day. What you see here represents about 5 hours work, most of it done well after any normal person has gone to bed. Stitching when the rest of the house is dark doesn’t help my eyes, but it’s a handy excuse for my sloppy stitches, plus the quiet helps me concentrate. That and a bunny snuggled along beside me on the floor.

With the idea of keeping these posts marginally interesting to anyone but myself, I won’t be sharing the whole design with you or telling you what it’s supposed to be. You can watch it develop as I stitch it. For those of you that don’t stitch, that’s part of what makes it fun, but also what makes it so frustratingly tiresome. You stitch and stitch and spend hours and your work looks like nothing. Then all at once the design comes together and it’s at that point that I’m motivated to continue with it. I could use your help in getting to that point.

Hours this update/total to date: 5/5

Turn and look again

The colors of the fading sun made me take a fresh and attentive look at this scene transformed by ice and shadow and I saw something quite beautiful then. Like many, it’s difficult for me to admire the things I see everyday because there is so little novelty, but without admiration for the common there can be no attentiveness to its beauty.

My focus this day were the Hooded Megansers that were concentrated in the bit of open water around the dock and pilings on the river. Cursing the fading light just as the ducks became accustomed to my presence there, I packed up my things and began the walk back up the hill to my car. I turned and looked again and saw the colors of the setting sun and the rest of the scene with a new perspective; rather than an impediment to my view of the birds, the sun and ice had made the everyday into something sort of wondrous. Just a short time earlier in different light it was the same old view and nothing that would cause me to even notice it. I learned that it’s wise to turn around and look again, and renew my enjoyment of things with fresh attention and open eyes.

A valentine rose

“Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?”
– Pablo Neruda
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Just a little something for you to ponder on a Friday night in February.

Pablo Neruda was a Chilean poet who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. He wrote spectacular love poems and simple humorous odes, as well as political and historical poetry. He’s been one of my favorites since college, and I remember his poetry as being among the first that I could enjoy without the benefit of a bilingual dictionary. The snippet of a poem above comes from one of the last works before his death in 1973 callled, “A Book of Questions”.

Bejeweled

The trees are bejeweled with ice; late yesterday afternoon when the storm cleared and the sun was first visible it reflected the blue of the winter sky and glistened like saphires. In the moonlight it was diamonds. The drive home at dusk today reflected the palest of amethyst.

A day without electric, or heat, or coffee (!) makes one appreciate just how much we rely on modern conveniences. The daylight hours were fine, fun even; an enjoyable day spent under a blanket alternating napping with reading. A walk through the neighborhood to see the beauty and destruction wrought by the ice storm was a welcome break from the quiet house.

When my husband took his dinner break (his only break during yesterday’s 17 hour workday) and came home with the Valentine’s roses, I was more interested in a cup of coffee and a burger from anyplace that might be open and had power to cook me something.

The night was something else. It’s very hard to occupy yourself in the pitch dark with no company on Valentine’s Day. So I went to bed around 10 pm which must be an all time record for me. My husband stumbled in from work some time later, having spent most of the day cutting up fallen trees and keeping the roads somewhat passable for those foolish enough to venture out. Most people don’t appreciate the hours that public works guys put in; they only complain that their street wasn’t cleared well enough or soon enough.

There was a small flock of robins who spent a miserable day in the holly tree in the front yard eating ice covered berries. They refused my offers of water-softened raisins, cherries, and blueberries but did appreciate a pan of water, kept from freezing, to drink. This morning they were back, with a few cedar waxwings, but still they looked miserable and ready for Spring.

Not what you think

To help me learn to use my new macro lens, Bev suggested a while back that I practice photographing little plastic frogs or something. It just so happens that I have a few of the real things around so last night decided to take some pics while I had them out of the tank for cleaning.

Technically, these are toads and not frogs and they didn’t make very cooperative subjects. They kept climbing on top of one another trying to escape the holder that I had them in. It was fun to practice anyway. I’m sure my husband was convinced of my insanity when he was ambling off to bed and I was taking pictures of the fire-belly toads in the kitchen sink. Such is the life of a frustrated photographer. 😉

To further damage your impressions of me – the toads were an anniversary gift from my husband a few years ago. No jewelry or chocolates for this gal! Every so often the DH goes out on a limb and strays from the safe gifts; it’s always interesting when he does.

They’re cute little guys and are very warty. They also have bright reddish-orange bellies. I feed them mostly crickets, but they’ll also eat waxworms or mealworms or very small guppies. Right now I have four of them, but it’s difficult to keep too many together because the larger ones seem inclined to bully the smaller ones and not allow them to eat. When the mood strikes them and they’re feeling amorous, they bark like little dogs.

If you’re in the mood for pics of truly amorous animals, stop by the Dharma Bums blog to see photos of a pair of Bald Eagles caught in the act. Love is the air and Spring can’t be far off now.

What is it about Cape May?

A few of us (Susan, Lynne, Pam, and Mary) are trying to put together a plan to visit Cape May together this fall for NJ Audubon’s Bird Show (link to last year’s weekend). I think I’ve been appointed the official tour guide because I’m local. The pressure of that has me a little nervous; I love Cape May, but do I really know it well enough to show off all that it has to offer? No, not really. I have my favorite spots and favorite times of year to visit, but probably those aren’t the best times or places to see birds – which is what people visiting Cape May from afar will want to see. They’ll want to experience the spectacle that Cape May is known for.

I don’t think that the best of Cape May can be experienced in any one season – each has its own unique experience to offer. While I can jump in the car on a late May day to see shorebirds on the Delaware Bayshore or migrating monarchs in late September – what does it offer in late October/early November that will give a sense of what it is that makes Cape May so special?

Recently there’s been a discussion on NJ Birds about the top places to bird in NJ. I’ve been pleased to see the discussion turn more to the merits of some of the top bird-related experiences one might have in NJ, rather than relating it to any one particular place in the state. Considering the vagaries of weather and migration, I would agree that it’s difficult to limit the discussion to a particular time or place.

In an effort to further entice you guys (or maybe some others who might like to join us) I’m including a list from the NJ Birds discussion of some *experiences* that we might witness in Cape May in the late Fall. I’d like to see those of you that know Cape May as well or better to add to the list. Maybe we can come up with a top ten list of sorts?

  • That near-mythic, near-annual “big” day somewhere around Halloween when every scoter, and other littoral migrant in the western north-atlantic decides its a good day to fly past the Jetty in Avalon.
  • A late fall Buteo flight- the kind that produces Ravens and Golden Eagles.
  • Bald Eagles doing just about anything just about anywhere in NJ- remember when there was one nest in an undisclosed location in Salem County, and 5-8 was agood fall?
  • Fall warbler fallout
  • Short-distance migrant flight/fallout (kinglets, robins, hermit thrushes, yellow-rumps, etc)
  • Major nocturnal migration of thrushes and other land birds
  • A marsh at dawn
  • A peregrine hunting
  • Gannet/scoter migration

Can you add to this list?

Photo of the lighthouse at Cape May taken in late September/early October – my favorite time of year for a visit.