Ok, so we have now owned 5 fish. After Number 3 died, we went back to the pet store for another water test, a replacement voucher, and some advice. They said to start over, clean out the whole tank, and let the water age for another 4 days, and then come back and get a different kind of fish, something coldwater rather than tropical. Done and done. Little Man picked out a paradise fish, a coldwater cousin of the betta that weren't hardy enough for our house. Being told they can be shy fish and need companions, we brought home two.
Little Man named them Dash and Samuel. When we told them they are females, he started to cry and said he wanted boy fishes not girl fishes. So Dash and Samuel they remained. Right from the start, they were way more active than the Unfortunate Three. Soon they each had a favorite corner of the tank. They bob to the top for air and then right back down again, straight up and down like an elevator.
But then, Disaster!! One died on Saturday. We don't know why. The other is noticeably less active, and has taken over the corner of the deceased. She hasn't moved from that corner, except to go up for air or food, in three days. My hopes are not high. But I don't think I can go through this again, so this is probably going to be our last attempt at a fish. If she doesn't survive, we'll call it a day, fish-wise.
It's very frustrating, because fish are supposedly simple pets. I've never had them die off like this before, and we've done absolutely everything we're supposed to, according to the aquatics staff at the pet store. I've become resigned, I suppose, to their demise.
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
An At-Home Holiday
I took some time off work this week. The public schools are on their half-term holiday, so Little Man is home all week. I decided after all the craziness of the last six weeks, I needed to be at home with my boy. My at-home holiday has been delightful so far. Even though I haven't really spent much time at all with Little Man.
Yesterday, for instance, Big Man and Little Man were invited to join our friend Trevor and his two sons for a 'Dads and Lads' day out. They drove to Liverpool and toured the HMS Illustrious, a Royal Navy aircraft carrier moored there. By all accounts they had a great time. I, too, enjoyed my day home alone. I slept in until 11:30 (!), which I haven't done in ages. I spent my whole day cleaning the house, from top to bottom. The only room I didn't get to was the kitchen. I really meant to clean it, but tragically (wink, wink), Big Man and Little Man arrived home before I got to it. I still haven't cleaned it. I might, but I might not, too.
Today, Little Man's friend Masha is at our house. They love to play together, and are quite a bit like brother and sister. Masha is 7, and Joseph is 4, so there is an age difference. Sometimes they bicker, sometimes they can't agree on what they want to do, but overall, they delight in one another. Right now, they're in the living room, giggling over Madagascar 2.
Halloween is barely celebrated here. Most evangelical Christians would not send their kids trick-or-treating, we're told. That makes me sad. Not for any big reasons, but just because I have such fond memories of my own trick-or-treating. Brudder and I would spend weeks agonising with our friends over our costumes. There was the infamous Paco Taco that Brudder made with my parents, using a gigantic piece of cardboard, and crumpled up tissue paper in green for the lettuce, yellow for the cheese, brown for the beef, and red for the tomatoes. He had to turn sideways to get through a door, but it won a prize at the Halloween Festival at school. I had two costumes, basically, through elementary school: Little Red Riding Hood and Princess Diana. In junior high, my mom made me the coolest poodle skirt, in hot pink, with record album appliques in black, and we spent a few hours combing the thrift shops for saddle shoes and the ubiquitous sweater.
It was so much fun to wear our costumes to school all day. And then my school always had a great Festival on Halloween night, with hot dogs, ice cream sundaes, a cake walk, bobbing for apples, fair games, and a costume contest. We always started there, and then headed out trick-or-treating afterwards, when it was properly dark.
And then the actual event itself: the delicious pleasures of being out after dark, in an itchy costume, and the frissons of anxiety/anticipation just before running up the walk to ring the doorbell. I even remember the wool plaid coat my dad wore, and the red flashlight he carried, in case Little Red Riding Hood got a bit antsy in the dark. Brudder usually wanted to run ahead with his friends, but he would run back to check on me, quite solicitously, and to exclaim over how much candy I'd collected. My friends Chris and Laurie were usually along, and it was SUCH fun!!
So aside from the debates over Halloween vs. Harvest, I miss trick-or-treating, and I'm very sad that our current context prevents us from sharing that tradition with our little boy. He even had a costume all picked out - he was going to dress up like a builder. I think we'll have an at-home holiday. We'll have Masha and her parents over, and we'll wear costumes and carve pumpkins and maybe bob for apples, and pass out candy to any who come knocking.
Yesterday, for instance, Big Man and Little Man were invited to join our friend Trevor and his two sons for a 'Dads and Lads' day out. They drove to Liverpool and toured the HMS Illustrious, a Royal Navy aircraft carrier moored there. By all accounts they had a great time. I, too, enjoyed my day home alone. I slept in until 11:30 (!), which I haven't done in ages. I spent my whole day cleaning the house, from top to bottom. The only room I didn't get to was the kitchen. I really meant to clean it, but tragically (wink, wink), Big Man and Little Man arrived home before I got to it. I still haven't cleaned it. I might, but I might not, too.
Today, Little Man's friend Masha is at our house. They love to play together, and are quite a bit like brother and sister. Masha is 7, and Joseph is 4, so there is an age difference. Sometimes they bicker, sometimes they can't agree on what they want to do, but overall, they delight in one another. Right now, they're in the living room, giggling over Madagascar 2.
Halloween is barely celebrated here. Most evangelical Christians would not send their kids trick-or-treating, we're told. That makes me sad. Not for any big reasons, but just because I have such fond memories of my own trick-or-treating. Brudder and I would spend weeks agonising with our friends over our costumes. There was the infamous Paco Taco that Brudder made with my parents, using a gigantic piece of cardboard, and crumpled up tissue paper in green for the lettuce, yellow for the cheese, brown for the beef, and red for the tomatoes. He had to turn sideways to get through a door, but it won a prize at the Halloween Festival at school. I had two costumes, basically, through elementary school: Little Red Riding Hood and Princess Diana. In junior high, my mom made me the coolest poodle skirt, in hot pink, with record album appliques in black, and we spent a few hours combing the thrift shops for saddle shoes and the ubiquitous sweater.
It was so much fun to wear our costumes to school all day. And then my school always had a great Festival on Halloween night, with hot dogs, ice cream sundaes, a cake walk, bobbing for apples, fair games, and a costume contest. We always started there, and then headed out trick-or-treating afterwards, when it was properly dark.
And then the actual event itself: the delicious pleasures of being out after dark, in an itchy costume, and the frissons of anxiety/anticipation just before running up the walk to ring the doorbell. I even remember the wool plaid coat my dad wore, and the red flashlight he carried, in case Little Red Riding Hood got a bit antsy in the dark. Brudder usually wanted to run ahead with his friends, but he would run back to check on me, quite solicitously, and to exclaim over how much candy I'd collected. My friends Chris and Laurie were usually along, and it was SUCH fun!!
So aside from the debates over Halloween vs. Harvest, I miss trick-or-treating, and I'm very sad that our current context prevents us from sharing that tradition with our little boy. He even had a costume all picked out - he was going to dress up like a builder. I think we'll have an at-home holiday. We'll have Masha and her parents over, and we'll wear costumes and carve pumpkins and maybe bob for apples, and pass out candy to any who come knocking.
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Something's Fishy Here!
We wanted to get Little Man a fish. Simple, right? Alas, not so! We thought we'd surprise him by coming home from a shopping trip with the fish in hand (or actually, in bag). But, they wouldn't sell us the fish and the tank at the same time; we had to take the tank home, set it up with the filter and a heater, and leave it for a week before they would sell us a fish.
Fast forward to one week later, this past Saturday. We made a big deal of taking Little Man to the pet shop, with his friend Masha, so that he could pick out his first pet for himself. He looked carefully through over 30 species of fish--tropical, marine, coldwater--before finally choosing the most beautiful, midnight blue Beta (Japanese fighting fish) I have ever seen. On the way home from the pet store, he chose the name 'Dash', which I thought was pretty groovy.
We followed the instructions to the letter for introducing him into his new tank environment. Fifteen minutes of his bag floating in the tank, then 15 minutes with a little tank water mixed into the bag, then finally free from the bag and off to explore the plastic foliage. He seemed to be swimming awfully hard, and kept drifting toward one corner of the tank, where the filter is. A while later, after the novelty had worn off and we were paying attention to other things, Big Man looked over and discovered he was stuck to the filter!! Horrors! One swift rescue later, we told Little Man that Dash would need to rest overnight. He didn't have any visible injuries, but four hours later, he was resting permanently.
Little Man was unperturbed. He wanted to know what colour the new one would be. Fish #2 was a brighter blue Beta, named Samuel. He came home last night. Same careful routine. Filter speed set to lowest setting! No run-ins with the filter this time, but mysteriously, dead by Noon today.
This evening, the third Beta is exploring the tank. We had the water tested at the pet shop; apparently our water is 'perfect', so that's not the problem! This one is a lovely red colour. It doesn't have a name yet; maybe we'll wait to christen it until it's survived for 24 hours.
So much energy for the sake of such a wee little boy! Reminds me of this morning's gospel lesson from Luke 12: "So don't be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom" (NLT).
Fast forward to one week later, this past Saturday. We made a big deal of taking Little Man to the pet shop, with his friend Masha, so that he could pick out his first pet for himself. He looked carefully through over 30 species of fish--tropical, marine, coldwater--before finally choosing the most beautiful, midnight blue Beta (Japanese fighting fish) I have ever seen. On the way home from the pet store, he chose the name 'Dash', which I thought was pretty groovy.
We followed the instructions to the letter for introducing him into his new tank environment. Fifteen minutes of his bag floating in the tank, then 15 minutes with a little tank water mixed into the bag, then finally free from the bag and off to explore the plastic foliage. He seemed to be swimming awfully hard, and kept drifting toward one corner of the tank, where the filter is. A while later, after the novelty had worn off and we were paying attention to other things, Big Man looked over and discovered he was stuck to the filter!! Horrors! One swift rescue later, we told Little Man that Dash would need to rest overnight. He didn't have any visible injuries, but four hours later, he was resting permanently.
Little Man was unperturbed. He wanted to know what colour the new one would be. Fish #2 was a brighter blue Beta, named Samuel. He came home last night. Same careful routine. Filter speed set to lowest setting! No run-ins with the filter this time, but mysteriously, dead by Noon today.
This evening, the third Beta is exploring the tank. We had the water tested at the pet shop; apparently our water is 'perfect', so that's not the problem! This one is a lovely red colour. It doesn't have a name yet; maybe we'll wait to christen it until it's survived for 24 hours.
So much energy for the sake of such a wee little boy! Reminds me of this morning's gospel lesson from Luke 12: "So don't be afraid, little flock. For it gives your Father great happiness to give you the Kingdom" (NLT).
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Sick and Tired
I have been sick with a horrible cold for the last three weeks. While sick, I have: worked a 55-hour work week during Orientation Week at NTC; traveled from Manchester to Indianapolis for a weekend conference where I presented a paper; planned and executed 13 worship services; and moved into a new house. Needless to say, I am exhausted. Sick and tired.
And even though I don't remember the last time I felt this drained, I have also been surrounded by dear friends offering help, supportive coworkers, loving family, and a fabulous husband who has carried the load without complaint. And through all this, God has blessed me time and time again, sustaining me when I was past the breaking point.
Tonight, we're enjoying the quiet of a mostly unpacked house that feels new, fresh, and uncluttered. We're watching season 4 of The Office, and I'm looking forward to a good night's rest and another restful day tomorrow.
So, even though I'm sick and tired, I'm content and at peace.
And even though I don't remember the last time I felt this drained, I have also been surrounded by dear friends offering help, supportive coworkers, loving family, and a fabulous husband who has carried the load without complaint. And through all this, God has blessed me time and time again, sustaining me when I was past the breaking point.
Tonight, we're enjoying the quiet of a mostly unpacked house that feels new, fresh, and uncluttered. We're watching season 4 of The Office, and I'm looking forward to a good night's rest and another restful day tomorrow.
So, even though I'm sick and tired, I'm content and at peace.
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