The continuing saga of T.A.D. and Fritz

Ah, spring. When young men's thoughts turn to flights of fancy...and mine to my favorite children's book of all time: Make Way For Ducklings. If you haven't read this book, give it a try. This would be a good one to seek out at your local independent bookstore.

Now to the point; the first post I ever wrote on this blog was about a white duck who lives in a pond next to my apartment. I named him (more on that later) TAD, which stands for The Aflac Duck.

TAD has been on his own for two years or so. So when he found a companion, I was delighted. However, I soon discovered that he's actually a she. How did I find out? Well, let's just say ducks are less puritanical about sex than humans. Or maybe they just don't have blinds to close.

Anyway, TAD's a she, and she's found herself a significant other. Fritz is quite a distinguished duck, mostly black with some white. Should they be successful in their procreation efforts, I wonder if the ducklings will be black, white or zebra?

I learned from a brilliant colleague the other day that ducks need a safe roosting place to bring ducklings into the world. Which is why I'm keeping a sharp eye on the nasty geese who like to fly into the pond and shake things up. Fritz gets pretty serious when they show up.

All of this makes me realize just how long I've lived in this apartment by the pond; long enough to have constructed a whole world of drama and intrigue for the ducks who live next door. It's really great to be 30 something and still have a healthy imagination.

Recycling makes you (read: me) feel good

I'm not sure why I always feel so sunny and virtuous when I recycle. Today, when I volunteered to take my neighbor's cardboard and newspapers with me to ye olde recycling center, it just about made my day.

Now, I don't pretend that recycling is the answer to the world's problems, but I do have a theory why I always feel better after recycling. It's this:

The world is huge, and the problems we face are exponentially enormous. So it's nice, once in a while, to see how a small action can have, if not a big, then at least a "not small" result.

Consider:

If I shop at the grocery store 2-3 times per week, and I use my cloth bags that I keep in the trunk of my car to tote my groceries, I'm not using at least 6-9 plastic bags a week. 52 weeks in a year (ok, 50, to give me a chance to forget my cloth bags) and I'm not using 300 - 450 plastic bags each year. Say I live another 20 years (I hope to live more, and hopefully plastic bags won't be around by then, but you get the point), and I have not used 6000 - 9000 plastic bags.

Now that's a stat I can smile about.

Missing an old friend

I've had a good week, both at work, personally and with my family (scattered and far away though they are). Which is why I feed especially glad to have stumbled upon some old emails, written in 2003, by a friend of mine who was killed more than 4 years ago. The emails are vintage "her"; calling on her female friends to connect, enrich and inspire each other. Calling on us to make sure we are fierce, and loyal and vocal about what we, as women, need from the world. It made me smile to remember it, and though I think of her all the time, this time it had a frame around it; a frame of women sitting in a garden in Brooklyn, trying to make an imprint on the world.

I miss my friend.

the new chain letter - but on facebook

I find it interesting that so many people whom I would assume consider themselves above something as corny as a chain letter have embraced the "25 things about myself" trend that is zipping around facebook. So in that spirit, I created my own version. I'm sure someone else thought of it before I did, but it hasn't made it's way to my friends. So for now, I'm considered clever. Enjoy.

Directions: Write 25 absolutely false things about yourself. Tag a bunch of people and ask them to do the same. See what comes of it.

1. I never spend any time on facebook.

2. I moonlight as a supermodel.

3. My irrational fear of broccoli has cost me more than one potential soul mate.

4. I feel an innate connection to jazz as an art form. Truly, is there any other kind of music?

5. There's nothing like a good winter storm to get me in the mood to party. Ice storm = bliss.

6. I think it's cool that facebook chooses to show me ads about pregnancy tests and alternatives to abortion.

7. Sailing is quite possibly the most interesting and riveting of the Summer Olympic sports.

8. There's nothing I like more than showing up at an event where I don't know anyone. Awesome. I just dive right in and start making friends.

9. Without a doubt, I believe Peyton Manning is the best. quarterback. ever.

10. I spend hundreds of dollars a year perming my hair.

11. I am completely comfortable amid the put-together, fabulous women of the south. Those ladies have nothing on my style and flair.

12. I hate being onstage. It's even worse when people cheer and clap for your. God, that sucks.

13. I secretly want to be a chemistry teacher.

14. I love sitcoms. I watch them all the time.

15. I know that cats are far superior to dogs. In fact, I believe cats are superior to everyone.

16. My car runs like a dream. No noises, no dents, nothing. It purrs.

17. Guinness is my favorite beer.

18. Mornings are my favorite time of day. The new light, the birds chirping...ahh. I am always in a good mood in the morning!

19. I look absolutely smashing in lime green.

20. I know every band that ever played in the 90's, plus the hot alternative bands of today. I am an encyclopedia of cool music.

21. I love to cook.

22. I always knew I'd wind up living and working in Arkansas.

23. I have never been accused of having a clandestine relationship with a friend's husband.

24. The Yankees rule.

25. Everyone I know wants to be me. Who wouldn't?

Moon & Sky as art

You know how some people never look up? Never tilt those neck muscles back and take in the world from a much smaller vantage point? I'm not one of those. I love looking at the sky. It's far more interesting than my normal perspective.

Tonight was a little gift as I got out of my car. The sky - a beautiful deep blue that is impossible to duplicate. Even my trust 96 color Crayon box can't match it. And the moon, full, or one day off at the most. But the treat was something I'd never seen.

Apparently tonight was a busy night for air travel, or the air was clear enough to see dozens of vapor trails from airplanes crisscrossing the sky. They were all different "ages"; some old enough to have faded to little more than a hint of white against the blue, others crisp and sharp as a scalpel splitting a piece of fabric. All dulled with the gauzy glow of the moon. Stunning.

Paradoxical grocery shopping

I used to be a checkout clerk. For more years than I'd care to admit. Despite claims to the contrary, I did have a sense of humor about it. Honestly it would often get to the point where I'd laugh at the painfully un-funny just to relieve the boredom. So I was a little disappointed when the checkout girl didn't share my humor at the following purchases:

A Smart Ones breakfast sandwich frozen meal
Skim Milk
A Quart of Chubby Hubby Ben & Jerry's (fabulous) ice cream

An old rant

This is an old rant I found in a file, but it's still relevant.

Yesterday I had a very rude shock as I realized that I’d been conducting the worst sort of passive aggressive test on my neighbors. Now, since it’s been weeks since I’ve done laundry, I offer myself a little bit of forgiveness, because the truth is that I really forgot to bring my laundry detergent up from the basement. So it sat on the table down there for about a month. As I looked at the empty shelf in my hall closest, where the laundry detergent usually sits, all I could hope was that there was enough detergent left in the bottle to do the two loads that I so desperately needed to do. Happily there was enough for two loads left. The problem was that there was only enough for two loads left. A month ago, there’d been a nearly full bottle.

I found myself shaking my head in righteous regret and composing pithy notes that I could post on the wall, reading something like “Dear neighbors, well, you should know that you all have failed the good citizen test that I have been conducting these past weeks.” The problem is that it was no test; it was just me being moronic and leaving my laundry detergent on the table, where I guess it’s fair game. But the problem with this is that it’s not fair game. I would never use detergent other than my own, except that one time when I had spilled guacamole on my waitress shirt. And I felt so guilty I deliberately left that most precious of commodities, a quarter, near the bottle.

Why then, did someone, or several people, decide it was ok to use the detergent just because it was there? And why shouldn’t they? Aren’t I supposed to be all about sharing and decency? But what does it say about these people (who I never see, by the way, despite the fact that I am always going and coming from this place) that they’d make the assumption that since no one had claimed the detergent, they could use it? Did it mean that they didn’t use their detergent, instead saving a few pennies and making it last longer? Or did my stupidity save someone’s life when they realized that they didn’t have enough detergent to wash their uniform?

I guess I would have preferred to walk downstairs and discover that my detergent hadn’t been touched. It would have been a nice restorative boost to that elusive concept known as “the good of humanity.” That’s been a tough sell to me lately. Yes, you say, but you did it. You did what you’re judging others for doing. I did. But I regretted it, and I won’t do it again. And sometimes its nice to see others being better than you are. It makes you try harder.