I knew it was a toad! Caught the little sucker and made him a nice, cozy hotel-box.
6.24.2009
6.23.2009
Expedition Never-rest
Decided to walk around at 8:30 this morning, rather than stay in bed, awake, for any longer. The sun was already beating down on our less-than-manicured lawn, so I strolled over to the shadier side of the mountain. This is when things got interesting. Well, rather, not interesting. Painful.
The chicken coop is set up like so: A large cage on the left hand side, surrounded by *doh* Chicken wire. On the right, a platform suspened 3 feet off the ground that allows one to access the "hatchery" so you don't have to bargain for your life with angry hens. Not to be punny, but that platform was my downfall.
When you wander outdoors at 8 in the morning, tying your sneakers isn't the first, second or heck, sixteenth thing on your mind. I already am mildly distracted this early in the morning, and wore an 6 year old pair of flip-flops. They're yellow. WERE yellow, 5 years ago. They're scratchy, and they're squeeky. I don't mind though, shoes are shoes.
These ratty shoes were about to become crucial. My brain, always on food, saw the chicken coop and registered chickens with eggs and eggs with omelettes, so I bee-lined towards it. The jump is generally easy to accomplish, about 4 feet diagonally to reach the platform. However, when one wakes before the chickens do, and they hear you, the result isn't too pleasent. I leapt off with (I suppose) my right foot and right before the climax of the jump, animal screams sliced the air in front of me. This disrupted my train of thought (YUM! EGGS!) and I crumpled midair.
Result? A gnarly looking set of legs, and two broken flip-flops. Just kidding about the crucialness, they were actually rather insignificant.
Currently, I'm listening to the midnight noises of outdoor beasties. (NOT eighth graders, by the way) I would be out there myself, sitting on my trampoline and enjoying the dark breeze, but alas, I am human and humans are susceptible to mosquito attacks. My body is proof of that, since I don't believe in DEET.
I can hear a toad/frog of some large size near the window, his flappy, slimy self slapping against the coarse, white of the brick wall. My sympathy goes out to him/her, outside is rather chilly.
There's something wading through the grass too. I can't see through the window, it's too bright in here. Guess I'll never know....
The chicken coop is set up like so: A large cage on the left hand side, surrounded by *doh* Chicken wire. On the right, a platform suspened 3 feet off the ground that allows one to access the "hatchery" so you don't have to bargain for your life with angry hens. Not to be punny, but that platform was my downfall.
When you wander outdoors at 8 in the morning, tying your sneakers isn't the first, second or heck, sixteenth thing on your mind. I already am mildly distracted this early in the morning, and wore an 6 year old pair of flip-flops. They're yellow. WERE yellow, 5 years ago. They're scratchy, and they're squeeky. I don't mind though, shoes are shoes.
These ratty shoes were about to become crucial. My brain, always on food, saw the chicken coop and registered chickens with eggs and eggs with omelettes, so I bee-lined towards it. The jump is generally easy to accomplish, about 4 feet diagonally to reach the platform. However, when one wakes before the chickens do, and they hear you, the result isn't too pleasent. I leapt off with (I suppose) my right foot and right before the climax of the jump, animal screams sliced the air in front of me. This disrupted my train of thought (YUM! EGGS!) and I crumpled midair.
Result? A gnarly looking set of legs, and two broken flip-flops. Just kidding about the crucialness, they were actually rather insignificant.
Currently, I'm listening to the midnight noises of outdoor beasties. (NOT eighth graders, by the way) I would be out there myself, sitting on my trampoline and enjoying the dark breeze, but alas, I am human and humans are susceptible to mosquito attacks. My body is proof of that, since I don't believe in DEET.
I can hear a toad/frog of some large size near the window, his flappy, slimy self slapping against the coarse, white of the brick wall. My sympathy goes out to him/her, outside is rather chilly.
There's something wading through the grass too. I can't see through the window, it's too bright in here. Guess I'll never know....
6.20.2009
More often than not, on Thursday afternoon, I was trying to stay completely still, for health reasons. The first of which occurred at a time no reasonable human being even has nightmares about having to wake up. If normal human beings have such nightmares...
Anyhow, I was walking down my particularly steep driveway in the twilight, hoping for my vision to randomly become somewhat usable. Since that doesn't even happen in broad daylight, my hopes sputtered and savagely died rather quickly. Nonetheless I continued in my rather suicidal descent of the mountain.
Now, seeing as most everyone who will ever read this has either been to Rappahannock or (unfortunately) lives here, they will know what I mean when I refer to the wildlife here. It's just not fathomable for city dwellers, so if by chance you happened upon this blog and can hear traffic blaring outside your window right now, just pretend to understand.
I was wearing flip-flops, neon purple balloon pants (which are the comfiest on Earth) and an oversize t-shirt. Not exactly wilderness apparel. Which, I'm sure, is why animals decided that I was an easy target. Take this mother deer, for instance.
Halfway down the drive, there is noticable change in density of the forest. It's much thicker, and I, having trouble seeing in normal woods, just gave up looking. When, surprise, surprise, a doe lazily trotted out 8 feet in front of me. Well, at this point, I was desperately hoping it was a doe, because even though she could still easily kill me, being gouged by antlers isn't my favorite envisioned death.
When put under pressure, I generally crawl into a corner and cry. But instead of being able to perform my usual routine, I decided to use the old "don't show fear" option. As I moved my feet shoulder width apart and locked my stare with hers though, I began to doubt my reasoning. "Are you sure it wasn't pretend to be dead? Run in a zig-zag pattern? Yell loudly at the creature?"
(Which it wasn't. Those defensive strategies belong to encounters with bears and alligators and bears. Respectively.)
My strong stance was just not having the effect that I wanted it to. I am by nature a fidgeter, and when my fingers began to subconciously tap at my sides, the doe grew fiercer. Standing-still is just not my forte. I faltered, she saw it and stepped forward. I died a little on the inside.
And then she galloped off.
Strange. Of course, being a good horror/outdoor movie patron, I glanced behind me to ensure that there was not something more menacing and human-hungry standing behind me. Because I was moderately sure I didn't scare the deer off.
Onward towards daybreak I strolled and my mind began to focus on food. So my stomach and I marched off towards the house again, picturing a wonderful, warm, deer-free bowl of Quaker strawberry oatmeal.
To be continued.
Anyhow, I was walking down my particularly steep driveway in the twilight, hoping for my vision to randomly become somewhat usable. Since that doesn't even happen in broad daylight, my hopes sputtered and savagely died rather quickly. Nonetheless I continued in my rather suicidal descent of the mountain.
Now, seeing as most everyone who will ever read this has either been to Rappahannock or (unfortunately) lives here, they will know what I mean when I refer to the wildlife here. It's just not fathomable for city dwellers, so if by chance you happened upon this blog and can hear traffic blaring outside your window right now, just pretend to understand.
I was wearing flip-flops, neon purple balloon pants (which are the comfiest on Earth) and an oversize t-shirt. Not exactly wilderness apparel. Which, I'm sure, is why animals decided that I was an easy target. Take this mother deer, for instance.
Halfway down the drive, there is noticable change in density of the forest. It's much thicker, and I, having trouble seeing in normal woods, just gave up looking. When, surprise, surprise, a doe lazily trotted out 8 feet in front of me. Well, at this point, I was desperately hoping it was a doe, because even though she could still easily kill me, being gouged by antlers isn't my favorite envisioned death.
When put under pressure, I generally crawl into a corner and cry. But instead of being able to perform my usual routine, I decided to use the old "don't show fear" option. As I moved my feet shoulder width apart and locked my stare with hers though, I began to doubt my reasoning. "Are you sure it wasn't pretend to be dead? Run in a zig-zag pattern? Yell loudly at the creature?"
(Which it wasn't. Those defensive strategies belong to encounters with bears and alligators and bears. Respectively.)
My strong stance was just not having the effect that I wanted it to. I am by nature a fidgeter, and when my fingers began to subconciously tap at my sides, the doe grew fiercer. Standing-still is just not my forte. I faltered, she saw it and stepped forward. I died a little on the inside.
And then she galloped off.
Strange. Of course, being a good horror/outdoor movie patron, I glanced behind me to ensure that there was not something more menacing and human-hungry standing behind me. Because I was moderately sure I didn't scare the deer off.
Onward towards daybreak I strolled and my mind began to focus on food. So my stomach and I marched off towards the house again, picturing a wonderful, warm, deer-free bowl of Quaker strawberry oatmeal.
To be continued.
6.19.2009
Pt. 1 of Expedition
On Monday morning, about the 5th day of summer vacation, I stumbled upon something vastly new to me.
Chickens laid eggs?
I mean, of course I realized this before. But actually seeing a pile of chicken eggs out in the wilderness (or the chicken coop...) is rather exciting. After discovering this, however, I promptly forgot about it, as is the way of the wandering mind.
The sun was *mostly* out and it didn't take me very long to start feeling my fence-post white skin start to burn. Those goddamn birds that sound like they're trying to sing but are really not were awake too. So I was really trying to keep my spirits up in order to stay outside and not just retreat indoors.
That's when I found nest number two. Underneath our trailer.
If you own a trailer, or have lived in one, or currently live in one, or aspire to live in one, you know that underneath the trailer is not generally where you would look.
Of course, if you regularly trip over things that the universe plants there just to laugh as you fall, you end up looking in strange places during the recovery period. Which is, obviously, what happened here.
Anyways, nest No.2 was different than the first nests. One, because we didn't build this one. Two, because the thing sitting on it was not a chicken. IT WAS MY FREAKING GUINEA HEN! I thought she had been eaten months ago, but alas, there she was sitting *not* so peacefully on her nest. The lack of peace was expressed by her trying to eat my eyeballs out. I guess you really don't mess with mama?
Well, I did. I immediately began attempting to remove Mama from her nest, endeavouring to steal some guinea eggs as proof to the rest of the family of her existance. There was a long stick nearby, so to save my fingers from wreckage, and I prodded her off the bundle with it. Success. But then I had a better idea.
My chickens had been laying a shitload of eggs, yes, but none of them were hatching. SOOOOO
I quickly ran back to nest No. 1 (see above) and grabbed 4 chicken eggs, sprinted back to NN2 and put them on Mama's nest before she saw. *I think*
I might be a genious.
NOTE:
There are some advertisements on my page that I do not support. Such as the one right below this, showing meat products.
Chickens laid eggs?
I mean, of course I realized this before. But actually seeing a pile of chicken eggs out in the wilderness (or the chicken coop...) is rather exciting. After discovering this, however, I promptly forgot about it, as is the way of the wandering mind.
The sun was *mostly* out and it didn't take me very long to start feeling my fence-post white skin start to burn. Those goddamn birds that sound like they're trying to sing but are really not were awake too. So I was really trying to keep my spirits up in order to stay outside and not just retreat indoors.
That's when I found nest number two. Underneath our trailer.
If you own a trailer, or have lived in one, or currently live in one, or aspire to live in one, you know that underneath the trailer is not generally where you would look.
Of course, if you regularly trip over things that the universe plants there just to laugh as you fall, you end up looking in strange places during the recovery period. Which is, obviously, what happened here.
Anyways, nest No.2 was different than the first nests. One, because we didn't build this one. Two, because the thing sitting on it was not a chicken. IT WAS MY FREAKING GUINEA HEN! I thought she had been eaten months ago, but alas, there she was sitting *not* so peacefully on her nest. The lack of peace was expressed by her trying to eat my eyeballs out. I guess you really don't mess with mama?
Well, I did. I immediately began attempting to remove Mama from her nest, endeavouring to steal some guinea eggs as proof to the rest of the family of her existance. There was a long stick nearby, so to save my fingers from wreckage, and I prodded her off the bundle with it. Success. But then I had a better idea.
My chickens had been laying a shitload of eggs, yes, but none of them were hatching. SOOOOO
I quickly ran back to nest No. 1 (see above) and grabbed 4 chicken eggs, sprinted back to NN2 and put them on Mama's nest before she saw. *I think*
I might be a genious.
NOTE:
There are some advertisements on my page that I do not support. Such as the one right below this, showing meat products.
4.16.2009
"The More You See, The Darker It Gets"
The title is, in fact, my dear friends, the catch-phrase for the sequel to Donnie Darko. "S. Darko" Yes, I am aware that anyone who didn't know this and has previously seen D.D. quite possibly peed themselves just a moment ago.
The sequel is based on the story of D.'s little sis, Samantha (Daveigh Chase)who runs away to Hollywood before having visions of an apocalypse. Awesome. The main reason for the hype among non-Donnie fans, however, is the appearance of multiple famous actors.
These would include Jackson Rathbone (Twilight), Ed Westwick (Gossip Girl) and James Lafferty (One Tree Hill).
I, for one, applaud Chris Fisher for attempting the sequel to the already quite fantastic original. The trailer bodes awesomeness, so I will be attending the opening night of the showing. No matter what my plans are.
Downside- Frank's costume gets worse with age.
Other movies to come - Terminator, Salvation (Thankfully, Arnold has retired from his monotonous-acting days, but you might be rewarded with a brief appearance. Maybe.)Christian Bale (Charlie Bartlett) plays the grown-up John Connor.
DISCREPANCY! Christian Bale is actually Anton Yelchin. Don't ask me how I managed to confuse the two.
Also, with Christian Bale(good lord.) the NEW AND IMPROVED STAR TREK.
I will be hosting a costume party in honor of this event. Date not yet set. :D
The sequel is based on the story of D.'s little sis, Samantha (Daveigh Chase)who runs away to Hollywood before having visions of an apocalypse. Awesome. The main reason for the hype among non-Donnie fans, however, is the appearance of multiple famous actors.
These would include Jackson Rathbone (Twilight), Ed Westwick (Gossip Girl) and James Lafferty (One Tree Hill).
I, for one, applaud Chris Fisher for attempting the sequel to the already quite fantastic original. The trailer bodes awesomeness, so I will be attending the opening night of the showing. No matter what my plans are.
Downside- Frank's costume gets worse with age.
Other movies to come - Terminator, Salvation (Thankfully, Arnold has retired from his monotonous-acting days, but you might be rewarded with a brief appearance. Maybe.)
DISCREPANCY! Christian Bale is actually Anton Yelchin. Don't ask me how I managed to confuse the two.
Also, with
I will be hosting a costume party in honor of this event. Date not yet set. :D
4.07.2009
You've successfully slain the dragon! How will you toast your marshmallows?
Well, the best place to begin would be to set down my portable campfire (as seen in Spy Kids 2). After that, I would look around for some sticks. Realizing that I was in the middle of a gravel desert, I would smash the marshmallows onto my fingers and toast them on the portable campfire. Then I would whip the graham-crackers out of my clown shoe and eat them atop of the dragon.
3.23.2009
silk.
I would like to introduce the best creation in the universe that is organically and vegan-ly sound.
That's all. I was just craving some this weekend and I bought a gallon. And subsequently drank all of it. All delicious 4000 calories of it.
That's all. I was just craving some this weekend and I bought a gallon. And subsequently drank all of it. All delicious 4000 calories of it.
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