Monday, December 9, 2013

Not Finding Nemo

This little tale begins in October at the Arizona State Fair when the kids both won goldfish in a ring toss game. They proudly and enthusiastically picked out their fish, one white (soon-to-be-named Snow) and one gold (Goldy). 

Now, we all know how long we can expect these fish to last, but we took them home and set them up in a new pet hotel to make them comfortable. Goldy thrived. Snow? Not so much. After a week or so, Snow sadly dwindled and died. Rest in peace, little Snow. 

My daughter insisted on having a funeral for the fish and not a "burial at sea" as is customary in these circumstances. So we went out in to our dirt pile, I mean, "back yard" and dug an appropriate hole. We invited the rest of the family and the dogs to be present at the interment. It was very moving. 

After the ceremony, we retired to the house for the reception. Towards the end, my daughter went to put up the grave marker only to find the grave mysteriously disturbed! Shockingly (not really), the dogs decided that sushi would be a palatable snack. (At least, that's what I am hoping. It's that or we have a zombie fish on the loose.) My daughter refused to speak to the dogs for the entire week following the incident. 

You would think this would be the end of my little tale, but it isn't. About a week after the ill fated Sushi Incident, my daughter found herself in possession of yet another fair-won fish.  This time from the school's fall festival. 

We added our new acquisition Goldy's tank and hoped for the best. This time they both thrived and we all, naively, resumed a life unconcerned that the fish would survive. It was bliss. 

Until...last Sunday morning when I was woken up by my daughter asking me if I knew where Goldy was. 

What do you mean?, I asked. In his tank, I presume, I responded sleepily. He was there when I came home very late that night. 

No, Mommy! He's not in there!, she replied urgently. 

Now what!, I grumbled "pleasantly" for I had not yet had my tea and I do not tolerate being woken up for anything. 

I scraped myself out of bed and stumbled down the stair to the kitchen to the tank. I peered inside to do a quick head count. One....two? Huh? One!? 

Goldy was gone. Not in the tank. Not out of the tank. Just gone. Gone. No where to be found. 

It's been a week now and at night, we still hear the disconcerting gurgle of Goldy rampaging the house looking for fish brains on which to feed. Too bad the dogs are not good zombie fish fare. 

Sunday, December 8, 2013

First Impressions (or My Pet Ferret Rasputin)

Spent the other evening at my work's "holiday" party. A nice event and a bit of low-key fun that might have turned a bit more raucous after I left with the way everyone was pounding margaritas. Teachers! (I refused to have more than one margarita. If they had cider, though, I might have been in some trouble.)

Anyway, the conversation turned to first impressions when the social studies teacher turned to me and asked how my pet ferret was. 

I was a bit confused. The conversation went something like this...

Me: Ferret?
Her: Yes. Rasputin?
Me: Huh?
Her: You said you had a pet ferret named Rasputin. 
Me: Um...when?
Her: On the first day. You told the entire staff. 

The plot thickened. I had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. The only Rasputin I knew was the rooster. I teach about Rasputin the rooster, but I hadn't started teaching yet. It was the first day. 

I'm also not one for making up untruths. Usually. Only minor ones of no consequence when I'm feeling spunky. Then, I usually cave in a fit of unbridled honesty. I am not a good liar. 

Puzzled, I turned for confirmation from the others at the table. "Help me out here. Do I have a pet ferret? Named Rasputin?"

"Yes!" They all concurred. 

WTF! Now I was truly perplexed. I mean I can see how one person could think I have a pet ferret named Rasputin (not really), but everyone? Then, it hit me!

Ah-ha! On the first day in our full-staff meeting we played Two Truths and a Lie. Everyone had to write down two truths about themselves and a lie. Then we had to stay up in front of the 100 plus staff members and say them. The object was for the people to pick out the lie. The problem? The acoustics in the room were terrible. You could barely hear anyone. 

My lie was that I had a pet ferret named Rasputin. Those around me correctly learned that this was a lie, but the majority of the room did not and I suddenly became the proud owner of an imaginary pet ferret, Rapsutin. 

Once I realized what had happened, I pondered whether or not to fix the error. Did I say, "oh! How funny! Here's what happened"? Or, did I say, "oh, THAT Rasputin! He's fine. Had a little trouble getting stuck in paper towel roll a few weeks ago, but he seems to have recovered and is back to his old antics"? What a dilemma!

Saturday, December 7, 2013

HobbyQuest 2013

I need a hobby. A good one. Not just a boring old oh-yes-I-collect-gynecological-medical-equipment-from-the-late-1800s hobby, but a real, absorbing, fulfilling, and interesting hobby.

My life has been in a huge amount of upheavel this year and while it has been a lot of fun, I need something just for me. Something to focus on that isn't everything else. It is so bad that I haven't been able to read a book since May. Considering the fact that I would have previously described myself as a compulsive reader that is a significant lack of accomplishment. 

The problem is that I just have no gumption to find one; mid-life crisis is so exhausting. Between working, child care, dog-hamster-fish care, texting, and a new found passion for a social life, I just can't get my brain to focus on one thing long enough to accomplish anything meaningful. Even blogging. (Hence the lengthy gap in posts.)

Sigh. Perhaps someone could suggest   something? I might even make a commitment to trying anything suggested at least once....

PS: Don't tell me to join the gym. Been there. Done that. Training for a 5K already. Boring!