Frog on the Lam

This place is a revolving door of critters lately: new and old, wet and dry, four-legged and no-legged.

Last week Boomer The Cat went AWOL but turned up unfazed and unharmed.

The weekend brought a surprise addition to the zoo: No. 2 Son's ball python.

Look, I'm not happy about the snake. But is it fair for one son to have four creatures and another zero? Still, it's a snake!

And now for today's melodrama in the menagerie: The female of the fire belly toads went missing. Cue the organ music. Will I have to tell my soon-to-arrive guests that we have a toxic frog loose in the house? I'd hate for someone to trip over a dead Boo with a half-eaten frog in his mouth. Especially if it's me. Look, I've already cleaned up one pile of cat barf today ....

Fortunately, Frau Frog was found in the front foyer, barely breathing after hippety-hopping down a flight of stairs. Currently she is back in her terrarium. Her formerly Critical condition has been upgraded to Stable and she has been cleared for visitors. However her status may be downgraded or even changed to Expecting since Herr Frog won't stop mounting her.

Find the fire belly toads, which I'm told are actually frogs since they live in the water (except when they escape). Also, don't bother clicking on that white triangle, because it's just a reflection and not the way to start a video clip. Look, I was tempted to click on it myself ....                                                                                                                                                                

 

Meanwhile, Lizzy the guinea pig has been eschewing all the scenery chewing, preferring her bowl of carrots and hay. Mr. Beta Fish also seems blissfully oblivious.

Personally, I wouldn't mind if Snake-I-Heard-You-Were-Dead escaped, slithered into the frog tank and ate them both before collapsing and dying. That's probably because I haven't bonded with them. You can't force these things, right?



... Our expected guests just called from the road, informing us they are bringing 10 live lobsters.

Welcome to our snake-eat-frog-eat-fish-eat-guinea pig-eat-cat-eat-lobster world!

The fish, guinea pig and of course Boo can stay. The lobsters, temporarily. Ok, frogs and Plisskin can stay too. But I have unequivocally drawn the line at zombies and space aliens.





Gotta go boil water .....














Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)

Prodigal Cat

Whew! I am so relieved Boomer The Cat finally showed up I made myself another mojito to celebrate.

To recap, Boo went AWOL for over 24 hours. That means he missed three meals, a couple snacks and countless unmonitored helpings of treats from several people.

Look, missing one meal is a big deal for Boo. Missing three is worrisome. Enough of an excuse for me to crack open the bottle of Ron Barcelo Imperial aged rum someone brought us from the Dominican Republic.

I checked all over the property and house for Boo, including the basement. Although the latter was a likely possibility, the detective in me could tell right away he wasn't down there because of all the cobwebs I broke at ankle level.

That's disturbing enough right there to call for a mojito  ....


... I have a custom of choosing a simple, go-to beverage each summer. When we were students it was wine coolers made with lemonade. Later on it was a 'frodka' -- Fresca with vodka. Gin and tonic always makes a nice default, and if we felt prosperous it was mimosas -- champagne (the kind spelled with a lowercase 'c') and orange juice. (FYI, two mimosas is a mimimosa; a third one = mimimimosa, etc. If you can't say it, you can't have another.)

One summer it was dirty martinis -- but that was the year I tripped and needed stitches on my head after being clipped by a trolley because I'd had too many and was running to catch the friggin' trolley. (How many dirty martinis did I have? One.)

El Mojito is the returning favorite this year. Look, it's part of a counter-offensive to stave off an invasion of mint in our backyard.


... Boo has disappeared once or twice before, but not since last summer. Maybe this was his big summer vacation or sleep-away camp thing where he journeys to the wetlands across the street and fishes all day and stalks frogs all night while avoiding swamp creatures with chainsaws.

Look, you can't spell 'vacation' without 'cat' ....

But he is such a keeper of routine that any aberration scares me. Also, you can't spell 'chainsaw' without thinking of swamp creatures. Which is why I kind of freaked out. It had nothing to do with the momojitos that I'd had, Ok?


... Some summers my favorite beverage is a bloody Mary. I like to sprinkle the top with celery seed, and learned to spice it up with steak sauce. An A1 option when you are drinking at breakfast because after all, your cat has been missing since last night.



... That DR rum is reeallly goood. It tastes especially sweeet now that Boomer is back sleeeping on the window seat.

Boomer The Shy

Lacking a BoomerCam, we'll never know where he was or what he did.

But I did learn something: The best summer drink is like Boomer The Cat: Aged, imperial, and prodigal.

Gotta go rehydrate ....




                                                        My Simple 1:1:1 Mojito Recipe

     Check some mint leaves for dead bugs, then put several (leaves) in the bottom of a glass.

     Add 1 shot rum, juice of 1 lime (more or less, depending on the quality of the rum), and 1 tablespoon of frozen limeade concentrate (more or less, again depending on the rum).

     Stir and add ice.

     Standing at the kitchen sink, open a bottle of club soda and top off the glass. Stir.

     Garnish with a 'straw' of sugar cane (if you are lucky to live near a plantation), lime wedge, or  mint sprig.

    

!Salud!








Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)

Of Photons and Phaetons

We just got back from our excursion across the Long Island Sound to Stony Brook, where the Rocket Scientist had a science experiment appointment.

His purpose was to use the Synchrotron at Brook Haven's National Lab. Who can resist a visit to something called a Synchrotron? Me, that's who -- even though he explained it is an accelerator which was gonna bombard his sapphire crystal samples with X-rays blah blah blah.

He told me afterward he encountered a small wrinkle entering the lab, since his university-issued, adhesive-backed Visitor's badge fell off his shirt pocket unawares and disappeared en route to the facility. This is one case where cutting down on the fabric softener would have eliminated a wrinkle ....

While his samples were accelerating in the Synchrotron I opted for a tour of the Long Island Museum in nearby Stony Brook, N.Y. It features a special exhibition about Long Island life circa 1950 in addition to an impressive permanent gallery of 19th-century island artist William S. Mount.

But the highlight of the museum was its carriage house filled with a comprehensive collection of  carriages from earlier centuries. I now know more about the difference between a phaeton and a brougham than I do about the difference between a synchrotron and an accelerator. Hoping that bit of knowledge comes in handy some day ....

Unfortunately cameras were prohibited in the carriage house. However, I did snap this one fashion statement from the '50s exhibit:

Like it?

 
... Other than the tornado, the only glitch in the trip was finding the hotel. Look, armed with GPS, Rand McNally and Google, we usually feel confident navigating new territory. However, I believe someone at the hotel inadvertently activated a cloaking device, since whenever we had to return there we got lost.

Look, when even a rocket scientist doesn't know where the hell he is, then that's big trouble. Kind of like being on Gilligan's Island without the professor. The only explanation is a cloaking device, right?

Fortunately since we were on an island we were bound to come across the hotel eventually. It was nice enough once we found it. The only anomaly there was the zucchini plants growing in the front landscaping.

 Now I'm wondering if they are somehow connected to the cloaking device ....




Back to the tornado. The Rocket Scientist wasn't in any danger because he was in a lead-lined bunker, Ok? I was a dripping wet mess in my car with only a moon roof separating me from accelerating waves of H2O molecules bombarding overhead.  A few minutes earlier, a museum curator returning from lunch reported a tornado that was spotted near the island's southern coast was heading north. So I dashed through the deluge to my car to look for an umbrella. That would surely be great protection in a tornado, right? After a fruitless search, I sprinted back into the museum to await a phase change of those H2O molecules.

Fortunately the tornado dissipated or decelerated or whatever. Unfortunately, the 1950s-era clothes dryer in the museum's Life in Levittown display was only a prop.

Anyway, if you are on Long Guyland's North Shore I enthusiastically recommend a visit to The Long Island Museum in Stony Brook. 

Here is a link:

http://longislandmuseum.org/





Don't forget to pack your umbrella. And your anti-cloaking device.












Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)

Post-Musikfest Top 10 List etc.

We made it home safely after a whirlwind tour in NJ and PA, stopping for three visits in three days.

We were hoping to coordinate the tour with Musikfest and our high school reunion in Bethlehem, Pa. However, due to a scheduling conflict, we are unable to travel to the reunion next weekend. So to all my dear friends from the Class of '72, we are sorry to miss the fun but are looking forward to photos ....

En route to PA we followed in the family footprints down memory lane, reliving soccer games we attended at fields we passed; model rockets launched on local farmland; and of course passing the spot fondly called No. 1 Son's Memorial Vomitorium, where many years ago on a dare he drank a liter bottle of Orange Fanta and had to hop out of the car to barf.


Anyway, I like to wing it at Musikfest, meaning just show up and sample whatever music is going on at the time. This year's highlight for me was the performance of Cast In Bronze on carillon bells, a medieval-looking set of 23 ringers of different sizes rigged to levers on a keyboard with pedals. The carillon artist sat at the keyboard and played, sometimes accompanied by drums or recorded music and on some tunes unaccompanied.

Wearing a black tunic and trousers, knee-high lace-up black boots, and gold mask in the shape of a flying bird, the carillon master looked like an executioner from the French Revolution. Fortunately his executions took place on the keyboard, where he thrilled a throng of festi-goers with a unique sound rarely heard these days outside of, er, wherever he is performing.

Here are two pics to save me 1,800 more words:

... I also like to browse the vendors at Musikfest, because I love earrings made of dichroic glass and know there's a certain vendor who always books the festival. I didn't buy any earrings this year, but I did get two black T-shirts painted with music motifs using drumsticks. Maybe you have seen them on the summer concert or county fair circuits.

The problem is I bought two T-shirts for three kids. I don't know what I was thinking. So I need to come up with some 'explanation' how I didn't really overlook one kid even though that's exactly what I did.

Look, according to the Rocket Scientist I am a medal contender when it comes to thinking up excuses. In fact, years ago he encouraged me to start a website called excuses.com, where folks could browse an inventory by category and find a match to an appropriate excuse. (Naturally I had plenty of excuses why that wouldn't work ....)

 So here is a quickie Top 10 List of How to Whine or Bluster Your Way Out Of Being Short One T-Shirt:

      10. They didn't have another one in your size.

        9. I didn't know which design you'd like.

        8. I bought three T-shirts, but one of them broke.

        7. One T-shirt fell into the Lehigh River following a rogue wind gust as we walked across the Hill to Hill Bridge.

        6. We gave one to the carillon musician after a bird crapped on him.

        5. Some rank amateur musician spilled sour notes all over one T-shirt and we couldn't get them off and they smelled really bad too.

        4. I thought two of you would prefer to share.

        3. I figured somebody wouldn't want one.

        2. I thought we'd deconstruct these two Extra Larges and reassemble them into three Mediums.

And the Number 1 Way to Whine Or Bluster Your Way Out Of Being Short One T-Shirt:

         1. 'Hey kids, we got you each two-thirds of a T-shirt.'


 If you have any additional excuses I'd love to hear them. Or you could start a website .... (Sorry, but the excuses.com domain name is already taken ....)



 ...  Our return trip was truly harrowing through New York state as we passed through a massive, vicious  thunderstorm. Twice. Rinse and repeat, right? Fortunately we got back in plenty of time for the Rocket Scientist to watch the 'Seven Minutes of Terror' online, meaning the Mars Curiosity rover landing. I decided to forgo the seven minutes of terror since I had just survived 77 minutes of terror driving through New York.

 So I'm off to unpack until next weekend. Maybe I should withhold the T-shirts and in the meantime  order a third one online. I guess the lesson learned from this post is that even if you can count down from 10, that doesn't necessarily mean you can count up to 3.

 That's my excuse anyway ....







Here's a link to Cast In Bronze:

         http://www.castinbronze.com/

Also, a link to Musikfest:

      http://musikfest.org/  


Hope to see you there next year!












Pass it along and remember, It's all (c)opyrighted(c)2012(c)(c)