The land of misfit toys

I was playing with that adorable baby boy of mine when I realized that some of the toys he has are pretty amusing. or disturbing.
Take a look at this farm toy, which he loves:

Pretty standard farm toy fare, yes? But wait...take a look at this cow.

I am udderly (nyuk nyuk!) confused by this animal. What are those ears? What in the HECK is that nose? And that humongous smile? Not to mention the curlicue, deformed looking fetlock (that's ankle, for you non critter peeps) hair. I think a beef crop and a elephant seal had a baby together.

Also, Adam thinks this creature, which the toy calls a sheep, is actually a fluffy puppy. I think he may be right. He looks like he might lick your face and beg for a treat!

Moving along, please note the following wooden puzzle, which my baby Shrimp also loves. Notice anything strange?? No?? You're probably not as bizarre and disturbed as I am. Let me enlighten you.

This deer has boobs. Vertically stacked boobs. I've never seen a deer like that.

This elephant, as my dad would say, "likes his momma's spaghetti."
Have you ever seen a double chinned, pink elephant?

I would like you to note that these toy creators obviously know what they're doing. They must have done research to show that vertically be-boobed deer and spaghetti-loving elephants are babies' favorites. Notice the first two puzzle pieces missing once my baby saw I was "playing" with the puzzle and realized that he "must have his part in the conversation."

Here is the snake. I wasn't quite sure what exact face this snake was making, but my hubby nailed it: "He looks like he just pooped in his pants." I don't know any pants-wearings snakes, but I guess if he had filled his snake tube-pants, he might make a pop-eyed, squiggly grimace. Oh, and the toy creators are at it again. Look how this "oops I crapped my pants" snake attracts my baby like a magnet.

And now, for the most frightening of all my baby's toys....the dreaded Googly-Eyed Chicken washcloth.
Why would you put a face like that on a baby toy? It seriously reminds me of the poultry version of the Chucky doll.

I know where you live!!

Because, you know, every mother wants to see a maniacal, bibbed chicken looming over her baby's head.

Oh, and here's a refreshingly cute toy. A little baby dinosaur, ready to face the new, scary world! I wonder what he'll be when he grows up??

There is no curse in Elvish, Entish, or the tongues of men for this treachery

I have just witnessed a grisly and horrific torture and murder. I think maybe I should call 911.
See, this morning after I got off my bus and began walking to the library, I walked past the construction zone where CU is expanding their student Rec Center. I saw bodies littering the site. And then, I was unfortunate enough to see several men in hard hats torturing and taunting a big, green, beautiful silver maple tree.
One man hacked away at the broadleaf tree with a chain saw. I saw the gashes in its beautiful silver trunk, and I felt pain. Another man used a bobcat tractor to shake and hit the tree's branches. The tree stood resolute, soaking up the sun's rays and providing shade, even in the midst of its torment. But finally all the taunting and pain became too much, and with a push of the bobcat, the great tree relented. A loud crack, like a gun shot, rang through the air, and with a great heave, the silver maple hurtled to the ground. It lay there, green leaves trembling. And then it was still.
Not long after, the men in hard hats desecrated the tree's lifeless body, dismembering it one branch at a time. They threw its body parts into a heap with the limbs of a massive pine they had just killed.
It took me a while, standing there with a heavy heart, to make myself rip my eyes off the crime scene. The men had shown such calloused hearts. It was really a shocking thing to see.

And if you think I am being overly dramatic, you obviously don't know me. I feel like I might be part Ent. As the great treebeard said:
Many of these trees were my friends. Creatures I had known from nut or acorn. They had voices of their own. Saruman! A wizard should know better! 

I don't know when I became so emotionally wrapped up in the fate of trees. I honestly feel like chopping down a tree that is not a safety hazard should be a crime. A hate crime, even. Trees are beautiful, and in a city, full-grown trees are a rarity. I had the great privilege of growing up in a yard chock full of trees. Fruit trees, pine trees, shade trees, ornamental trees...all KINDS of trees. And perhaps the two greatest tree tragedies I have seen took place in that yard. The first tragedy was the death of the yard's biggest shade tree: a humongous cottonwood. I felt heartbroken when that tree was gone. The second tragedy was the murder of a weeping willow crabapple tree, the likes of which no one had seen before. It's pink blossoms swayed in the breeze and created a kind of curtain around our picnic table. Then, after decades of ignoring it, a heartless mole decided it's bark was delicious and starved the tree to death by eating a ring around it's trunk.
I have realized that many of my great memories in that yard revolve around trees. I remember laying under the treehouse tree and staring at the blue sky...for HOURS. I remember admiring the bottle brush pine, another rare breed of tree, and feeling a sense of pride that I had a kind of tree that no one else had. I remember scaling the wild plum trees and shaking the limbs like a monkey, dislodging ripe plums to make jam with. I remember mowing around those trees hundreds, maybe thousands of times, always making sure to get as close as possible without harming the trunk.
I am lucky to have married someone who treasures trees as much as I do. A little crapapple poo on the sidewalk for a brief season is not a big deal to me. Neither is cottonwood snow. Or Maple branches. Or Pine sap. I'll just clean them up and enjoy the year round benefits of a great tree! And I've realized that tree haters are a breed of person I'll never understand. What's not to like? And when they reply that trees make a mess, it makes me want to go all Incredible Hulk on them. Is there anything in life worth enjoying that doesn't take some work?

Adventures of Bug Boy

This afternoon my Mr. joined me for lunch, and brought Shrimp along, too. And after we noshed on turkey wraps and played peekaboo, I decided to take Shrimp out for a little walk around the loading dock. I am queen of the loading dock. It is my domain, and I am responsible for its well being.
So we strolled out into the sunshine and enjoyed the breeze. Shrimp saw a pine tree and wanted to feel its needles. I felt a random raindrop splash on my face.
About two minutes later, my Mr. emerged from the building and joined us in the great outdoors. Just as we were traversing from one parking spot to another, a big delivery truck drove up the street and let us know, via blinker, that it was headed our way.
To avoid being squished, we headed back in the direction of the dock door. And that's when my Mr. said:

What is that guy doing there??

I looked over at the doorway and saw a man-child sitting cross-legged directly in front of the dock door. He had a zippie bag full of dirt 'n twigs and was dumping it out onto the dock. We sat and watched him for a moment.

Where in the heck did he come from??

I dunno!!

He didn't seem to realize that we were speaking about him, even though he was a mere 7 feet away. And truly, he appeared out of nowhere. The window of time where we weren't watching the dock entrance was very short...possibly 2 minutes. But we WERE watching all but the sneakiest angles of approach!

I handed Shrimp to my Mr.

Here, take Shrimp. I'm gonna go talk to that guy.

Excuse me. Can I help you??

I'm just looking at samples.

he dumps the dirt 'n twigs on the pavement and starts scratching at it with a stick. A plethora of bugs scatter in all directions.

Can I ask you to move? This is a very busy, operational loading dock and we have a delivery in just a few minutes.

Bug boy looks at me, then flicks something off his stick.

May I ask what possessed you to go through samples right here, in front of the dock door, instead of, say, over there?

I point to the other side of the dock, away from the door. (see, I'm trying to be reasonable)

I need to go through my samples, and I wanted a place that wasn't near people.

Uh huh.....well, there is a delivery happening here, and now there's dirt and a lot of bugs right in front of my door.

Bug boy scowls.

They won't hurt you. But I'll move in a minute. I just need to finish this. He points at his pile of dirt.

Well, I need you to move quickly.

I step away from bug boy and head back to Shrimp and my Mr. After a few more minutes, we decide to go back inside. As we approach the door, we see bug boy, deeply engrossed in his pile of dirt 'n twigs. He has a long hose with a spray nozzle on the end. He is blowing air into the hose and puffing it onto his pile of dirt 'n twigs.

Hey. I told you to move. Do I need to call Security?

I snap my fingers at him to convey the urgency.

I SAID I would move in a minute.

Yes, and you said that three minutes ago. Come on, move. I've got a broom, and I'm going to use it in a few seconds!

We step inside and start gathering Shrimp belongings. It's time for little boys to go home.

I look outside the dock and the bug boy is gone. I sweep up the bugs 'n twigs. It was time for the man-child to go home, too.

I need a can of pepper spray for my morning commute!

I missed my bus on Tuesday.
I left my little apartment with plenty of time to make it to the bus stop. Then, as I weaved between the sidewalks and courtyards of the apartment complex, I heard a dreadful sound behind me and turned around...
And there, chasing me like a lion chases an ibex, was a vicious and terrible animal. It was aggressive and mean. It squawked at me and steadfastly pursued me. It had a nasty look in its eye.
With some surprise, I chortled at it and stomped my foot. I hoped this would make the wild animal realize that I was big and frightening and territorial. The creature stopped for a moment, but then picked up the pursuit, this time with a faster pace.
And so the walk that normally takes me one minute took five, as I continually stopped to attempt to intimidate the wild animal.
Boulder is known for its wild animals. Mountain lions, bears, raccoons, deer, marmots, and even a bobcat have been known to come into town and mingle with people.
But you know what mingled with me??

It wants to kill you.

That's right. A dangerous squirrelkin. It chased me ALLLLLL the way off the apartment property, and just when I was beginning to picture myself doing a squirrel-avoiding dance at the bus stop until the bus rescued me, the squirrelkin abandoned its chase. It's good, too, because I think my ankles were *this* close to being shredded, leaving me disabled and crippled for life.
This experience kind of reminded me of my pet banty rooster, Mr. Gilda. He was tiny, miniature even, but when he fluffed his feathers and chased your ankles, it was pure terror.

I was ill

This week I suffered the most horrible, embarrassing illness. Perhaps you are familiar with it:

Verbal Diarrrhea.

It's debilitating. It's humiliating. It's hard to treat and cure.

A co-worker came into my office and asked me the relatively simple question of "what are you doing this weekend?"
And, OH MY the things that poured forth. I felt like I was having one of those out of body experiences, like the people who die and watch themselves from the corner of the room. As my answer turned from office courtesy to baring my soul, a little part of me floated to the ceiling and watched in disbelief. What in the world was I doing? "Shut up, Shut UP!!!!" I tried to tell myself.  But it didn't work. And for a good ten minutes I rambled on about compLETEly unrelated stuff.
My co-worker is very gracious and wonderful. I love her, and I think she rather likes me, also. She did, however, begin to assume the defensive "oh my JOHNSON, how am I going to escape??" stance. Her eyes looked panicked, and yet I yakked. And yet I yakked and felt embarrassed.
She finally fled my office, grabbed her book cart and said goodbye, while I followed in hot pursuit, throwing the remnants of a conversation at her. After she was gone, and the dust had settled, I realized what had transpired, and I was in awe. The disturbing kind of awe, not the blissful kind awe. How did this happen? Who possessed my body for ten minutes and forced me to say a plethora of stupid things? That's not really like me at work.
So, on my to-do list for today: see if they sell Pepto-Bismol for verbal ailments. I don't want that to happen again. Ever.

the smell of ......... in the morning

Okay, forgive me if this is too...um, delicate, but it has to be said. Why, oh why do people think French Vanilla air freshener is acceptable in a bathroom? The users of my restroom at work have decided this is an optimum and desirable scent for covering up bathroom smells. Tell me, do you know the horror that is bowel movement and french vanilla?? It is gag inducing. It is almost vomit inducing. Cookies and poop. Ice cream parlor and poop. Rotten ice cream. Outhouse in a bakery. Vanilla bean diapers. I have been very tempted to spray the WHOLE can away in secret and hope they buy a new scent next.