Archive: October 2007

It appears that our little puppy is coming into his own and I’m kind of freaked out.

Ted has begun to act more dog-like, rather than stuffed-dog-like, in that he appears to be making decisions of his own at a very basic level. He used to do things out of habit, but now, those habits aren’t cutting it. So what if we always go downstairs to have a snack after taking a walk? Running up the stairs and playing “keep away” is so much more appealing! It doesn’t matter that we always sit quietly in the evenings and watch television; Ted’s idea to bark loudly and chew on appendages is way better. Duh.

Seriously, though, he’s getting bolder. West Highland terriers were originally bred in Scotland to nose out rodents and Ted has just started to show his true colors and dart after squirrels on walks. Woe betide me if I have limited the span of the flexi-leash because even a 12-pound dog can pull me along for a short, yet embarrassing, distance. He is more adventurous in staking out territory on the couch and tears at his toys with a new energy. Poor Octopus suffered the first major injury in that he is minus one eye.

Although I sort of prefer the more demure version of Ted, I understand that this behavior is closer to his nature. I plan to sit back, sigh, and let JG take care of the discipline so that I can hug a nice submissive doggie. In March, Ted’s supposed to be full-grown at around 9 months, so I think we’re seeing some adolescent rebellion. Before we know it, he’ll want his own room with a TV, rides to the mall, and a cell phone, and could we please walk ten feet behind him while we inevitably embarrass him with our existence? Geez.

Tune in to Roosday-Tuesday and Wednesday-Bensday for the other two-thirds of the doggie cuteness trifecta!

JG and I received an e-mail from the bride from the Labor Day wedding we attended that included a link to their photographer’s website. We hopped on right away to check out the shots, which were so gorgeous. The photographer and assistants did a really nice job in capturing the major moments and it sounded like the bride and groom were pleased with the results.

JG and I had such a good time that weekend and we loved being there to see our close friends get married, so I was excited to round out our dim, amateur pictures with professional shots from the site. Much to my chagrin, I left my camera at our table during the cake-cutting and I always forget to have someone take a picture of JG and me when we’re all dressed up. Plus, I wasn’t feeling well during the day, so I wasn’t as energetic about capturing pictures as I normally would have been.

I began to mark pictures as favorites, making sure to grab shots of the entire wedding party, the cake-cutting, JG and me dancing, and the newlyweds and us. I probably had about 15 pictures in my shopping cart, but I was prepared to cut back if the cost and shipping dictated. Because it was my first time ordering wedding pictures from a photographer’s site, I had no frame of reference for cost. I figured that the photographer had already put in the time at the wedding and in creating a slideshow, so sending batches to print and shipping them would require minimal labor that some intern could complete. I only wanted 4” x 6” prints, not even an 8” x 10”, so that would help the bottom line, too. At worst, I estimated that I would pay $5, $7 max, per print, which I thought was still pretty pricey, but doable. For $30-40, I could get a handful of shots I had missed and that would be fine with me.

I clicked the “Order” button and gasped.

Twenty-five dollars. For one picture. Before shipping.

“What’s wrong?” JG asked.

“We’re not ordering any pictures of Liz and Andy’s wedding,” I said flatly.

“Why not?”

I swiveled the screen in JG’s direction and his face dropped. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry, kiddo.”

Yeah. Me, too.

Happy Mole Day! It’s a happy day in Chemistry Land set aside for singing “The Element Song” and telling punny jokes about moles!

…

Wait, people don’t know what Mole Day is? Pi Day is this national institution, but Mole Day goes neglected like the red-headed stepchild of fake holidays? Even Talk Like a Pirate Day gets a lot of fanfare! The love I have for this day is deep-seated and strongly-rooted from celebrating with my chemistry teacher in high school, so today, there will be no excuse for not knowing (and loving) all that is Mole Day.

Nestled within National Chemistry Week, October 23 celebrations glorify the mole and Avogadro’s number, approximated at 6.022 x 10²³. A mole is an absolute number without a unit, similar to a dozen. A dozen is always 12, whether it’s made up of donuts or people or cars. It’s the same with a mole, except that it’s always 6.022 x 10²³, which is a number of fantastic magnitude, such that a mole of oranges would be as large as the earth. Practically speaking, when dealing with elements and compounds, the mole allows us to switch between atomic mass units (which are ridiculously small) to grams, which we can see, feel, and measure. So, 6.022 x 10²³ atoms of carbon (atomic weight of 12 amu), or a mole of it, would have a mass of 12 grams, which is so much more helpful because we have known atom quantity and mass. On Mole Day, we’re really celebrating the awesomeness of this one magical number.

Not awesome? Or magical? Fine. Then I bake.

At our house, math nerds aren’t the only ones who get specialty baked goods. In popular Mole Day tradition, I tried out a new recipe for molasses cookies. I considered making guacamole, which has the attraction of being doubly punny (it’s called guacaMOLE and “avocado” is so similar to “Avogadro”), but I was in the mood for something sugary this year, so I searched out a new cookie to try. Tasty though they were, they were disappointingly flat and I did not deem the recipe worth sharing, but no matter! Mole Day marches on! I packed up the cookies for JG’s fellow math and science teachers with a note: “Celebrate Mole Day with a MOLasses cookie!”

I know, it’s geeky. But I love it. I love it so much. Every dork has its day, right? Well, this is mine.

#30

Over the weekend, JG and I set off for a pick-your-own pumpkin patch — the same farm where we got our Christmas tree — to find good specimens for carving this year. We showed up as soon as it opened on Sunday morning and had the place to ourselves. The sky was super-saturated with blue, the air was chilly enough for me to wear a jacket and a scarf, and I loved being outside on a perfect fall morning for a classic fall activity. It was the first time I’d picked a pumpkin from a farm, so the whole experience was quite the novelty. We took a bumpy, tractor-pulled hayride to a field littered with gourds and began the hunt.

I tramped through the vines and thumped on different pumpkins to find that elusive “solid but hollow” sound (isn’t that an oxymoron?) that marked a winner. I spied a nice, round guy with a whimsical vine trailing off the stem and pounced. “Don’t forget,” JG cautioned me, “you have to pick a pumpkin that you can carry.” Hmph. We gave my pumpkin a once-over for mushy spots, thumped the sides, and pronounced it a keeper. JG soon found his own jack-o’-lantern victim and we trotted back to catch the hayride on its return loop. Now, all that’s left is to pick or make a pattern to carve. I think I want to go geeky this year…

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Last week, Audrey challenged readers to guess which statement, out of three, was not true in the fashion of the classic ice-breaker game, “Two Truths and a Lie.” Well, in my years as a freshman dorm mentor, camp counselor, and youth group worker, I have played this game many a time. I love it. It’s such a good way to get to know people and allows them to choose what they share, rather than being interrogated. For lies, the trick is to choose statements that could be true, but no one knows for sure; for truths, the statements need to be outlandish enough that people might not ordinarily ascribe them to you. That said, I am not very good at this game. I am completely hopeless at identifying people’s lies and only slightly better at choosing lies for myself. Apparently, I have a “tell,” to lapse into poker speak, but no one will fill me in on what it is. Darn.

I made a guess and shared three facts of my own over at Audrey’s, but I thought it might be fun to play here, too, before revealing all. For this round, here are my two truths and a lie. Which statement is the lie?

1. I was a cheerleader in high school, a flier.
2. I love roller coasters and I try to ride at least 3 times in a row before switching to another.
3. If not for the bad breath, I would eat dill pickles all day long.

Take a guess and check out the answers after the jump!

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