spark

word of the day 190/365: gift

a piebird, given to me by my mother-in-law

a morning by myself, given to me by a friend

fresh-picked blueberries, given to me by my children (and the friend)

a hidden message, given to me and discovered by accident

word of the day 176/365: animal

A word chosen by Griff, who couldn't possibly have had any idea of how many animals we'd actually see today.  We started out with a boat tour hosted by Tarpon Bay Explorers. When I set up the tour, I assumed two things: that we'd have more success sighting birds and manatees in the morning, and that it would be easy to make an 8:15 appointment with my early early risers.  I was right on the first point, and the kids did still rise early, but I had grossly misjudged how difficult it is to actually get people motivated and out the door by 8 AM when you have access to that wondrous, glorious, exotic treat, cable TV.  A million thanks to NickJr and Disney for refreshing my commitment to remaining a cable-free household.

So, anyway, once we had broken free of the clutches of early childhood consumerist indoctrination, we headed out to join the breakfast cruise, and made it to the boat just in time.  Waiting for us was quite the spread.  Donuts! Granola bars! Coffee!  Yum.  And that's all before we left the dock.  After that, we were treated to a plethora of nesting egrets and pelicans, ospreys and terns overhead, cormorants on oyster shoals, and some sightings of dolphins and manatees coming up for air.  The kids shared a pair of binoculars around and I enjoyed the information shared by our tour guide.  No spoonbills for me, but getting to see the manatees surfacing (sorry, the photos are completely boring) was exciting for this girl who, once upon a time, pored over National Geographic pictures of these animals and made them the topic of her 5th grade science report. 

When we returned to land, the tour guide opened up an aquarium section of the visitor center and explained a host of different estuarine critters to us.  My boys were the only children there aside from one other infant, and Reese was happy to stare at starfish in a tank, so Griff got a lot of attention from the guide and a chance to hold many of the touch tank critters.  Once again, Xander was anxious about the spider crabs, worrying that we might get pinched by them.  I am happy to report that no such pinching occurred. 

And yet, none of those animals merited word of the day status, because later we found THIS amazing creature right outside our hotel room door:

This grasshopper was ENORMOUS.  I mean, HUGE.  I took a picture of it next to my lens cap but it still failed to capture just how GIGANTIC it was.  I've never seen an insect this big outside of a museum.  Its body, not counting the legs extending behind it, was a good 4"-5" long.  And that color!  Have you ever seen a bright orange grasshopper before?  I hadn't. 

Now, I've handled a lot of bugs, but giant bugs kindof creep me out and I don't really want to touch them. I'm working on it, but not quite there.  While I was laying on the ground trying to capture this guy's image, he* kept turning and walking toward me.  No hopping, no flying away, just this slow, inevitable creep toward me.  With his palps (the thingies hanging down from his mouth) moving the whole time.  Super creepy.  But I was concerned for his safety, worried that another hotel guest might freak out and squash him, so I picked up two plastic Chinese takeout containers we had been using as beach toys and caught him to move him.  Well, once he figured out he had been trapped, he went crazy, leaping frantically inside the cups.  You do NOT want to feel a bug this big leaping inside a cup you're holding.  Yikes.  I moved him to a spot near the fish pond, off the path, where there were plants to hide in. 

The kids, of course, stoked the whole time, begging me to take pictures, checking out this awesome creature, cheering me on for "saving" him from dark strangers, and asking what kind of grasshopper it was.  So after relocating him, I ran for Google.  Apparently this guy is an Eastern Lubber Grasshopper, known for being huge and bright and slow-moving (check, check, check).  It's a good thing I didn't pick him up, because when disturbed, they can hiss and excrete a smelly foam that can irritate your skin.  My decision not to pick up something brightly-colored and big = aposematic coloration WIN.  Of course, I can't find a single video of a lubber hissing or spitting or foaming or frothing or poisoning local birds, and in this day and age, if it ain't on YouTube, it ain't happening, so perhaps these grasshoppers just have a zest for colorful attire and a good PR agent.  Moving on.

For the record, these are not locusts.  A friend commented that these bugs "turn into locusts".  Locusts are the swarming phase of specific species of grasshoppers, and Romalea guttata is not one of those species.  They're large, but don't eat much for their size.  They don't fly or swarm.  They don't associate with those Biblical plague-y types. They can, however, be damaging to gardens or crops when large numbers of them are present.  (I'm hoping I did the right thing in letting this one live.)

Finding this guy was the cherry on top of my vacation.  It has already been an excellent, spontaneous, adventurous, soul-nourishing time for me and the boys.  Add a giant bug...who could ask for more?

*male pronouns were used before it suddenly occurred to me (after writing the post) that I could check the sex of this insect.  The presence of an ovipositor suggests that this one is female.  That's what I get for submitting to the patriarchy.

word of the day 174/365: surprise

Vacation art is in full swing here at the West Wind Inn, as Griff and Xander dig into a bag of fine-point sharpies and a stack of blank printer paper that I brought along on our adventure.  He is the one who chose the words with me for the past two days, and today, after a discovery he made, he selected "surprise" for today.

My favorite surprise of the day was a little ice cream shop - not the one we were looking for, but one we settled for after not being able to find the other.  Sanibel Scoops is tucked off to one side of the road, set back a little and without a parking lot of its own.  We parked (somewhat illicitly, I think) by the book store next door (which we visited later, so it's kosher, right?) and walked down and around to the ice cream shop, nearly melting in the heat before reaching the bright blue building.  To get to the door, we had to walk around the side of the house and across a courtyard reeking of rotting fruit.  Heaps of small, overripe, smashed berries were strewn around the yard.  I meant to ask the shopkeepers what kind of tree produced the berries, but forgot.  Why did I forget? Because the ice cream was so awesome, of course.  Frozen blended toffee coffee for me, possibly the best I've ever had.  Xander wanted banana ice cream, and surprisingly, they had it, and it was amazing, perfectly smooth and creamy and with just the right amount of banana.  Reese is a plain vanilla fan and Griff got adventurous with some melty but tasty watermelon sorbet.  But the best part? Eating it in the adorable front room of the house that was decorated with paper lanterns and colorful tile and had several vintage kids' coin-operated rides.  All four of us were taken with Dino, who cost only 25¢, had room for three boys, and played the Flintstones theme song while gently galloping.  Hanna Barbera and icy caffeination, I love you!

Griff's inspiration came in the form of a mysterious...thing...he found on the sidewalk outside our hotel room.  At first glance, we thought it was some kind of dead, dried caterpillar.  Then we hypothesized that maybe it was actually a lost lizard's tail (yeah, it was so dessicated and mysterious that we couldn't tell if it were reptilian or insectoid).  Our final guess was that it might be the abdomen (tail) of a dragonfly.  Who knows.  Certainly not us, at any rate.  But here it is, in all its enigmatic glory:

Other surprises today included an injured heron and horseshoe crab exuviae at Blind Pass and delicious chocolate-chip pancakes at our hotel's restaurant.  Other than that, it was beach time, pool time, a little grocery shopping, some cable TV sampling, shelling, and staying up way too late.  Which is just right.

word of the day 173/365: exciting

There could be nothing more perfect than this after a two-day journey.

Rather than stop along the way, the boys and I decided to push through and get to Sanibel in two big days instead than three more leisurely days.  In some ways, staying in the car is more relaxing than multiple stops, especially when your traveling companions are three small children heavily focused on the destination, rather than on the journey.  BEACH, they cried, and BEACH, I answered, and I gave them beach before bedtime. 

The first one to ask, "are we there yet?" was the two-year-old.  I laughed.  There's really very little else I could do.

Somewhere amid multiple status requests we saw emergency vehicle graveyards along I-95 and joked about the "sneaky water tower" that was following us and popping up every so often along the way.  We left little tokens of kindness and got attacked by very unkind blackbirds at a rest stop.  We listened to an actor with a gorgeous voice reading James and the Giant Peach.  We sampled cheese fries and found roadside blackberries.  We saw magical cloud formations and got caught in a torrential downpour so intense we nearly had to stop in the middle of the highway, then saw radiance spread across the sky afterward.  There were swamps and rivers and boats, Spanish moss and palm trees.  I was very glad that we hadn't flown and that we had the opportunity to see the landscape changes that told us we were headed farther South and closer to the Gulf of Mexico.

And at the end, there was the beach at sunset with the moon reflected on the waves.  Griff and I captured it each in our own way, without knowing the other was doing it.  Around us was promise: a hotel room with the big fridge Reese had wanted, glimpses we had caught of a swimming pool, and a koi pond surrounded by invisible quacking frogs at night and tiny speedy lizards during the day.  Adventure awaits.  But first, sleep.

word of the day 164/365: flotsam

Kiddo comes around the corner in the party store with these glasses on.  FAB-U-LOUS. He had already been wearing a bit of bling in the form of a pink heart-shaped faux-gem adjustable (ooh!) ring from the GayRVA party, and the frames really made the look complete.

I adore party stores.  Adore.  Uh-Door.  I walk in there and first of all, I'm all "ooh! the shopping carts are four different colors!" Ok, I actually didn't notice that until I was walking out, but I DID notice the gorgeous paper parasols, actual parasol-size, and gave serious consideration to hanging them from the studio ceiling.  But then I had to move on to Mardis Gras beads and sequined caps and tiny rubber lizards and oh so many feather boas.  Can I have a boa, please? 

Reese was in a similar bliss, floating along with me on a current of party-planning mania, bobbing along in a sea of glitter and plastic doodads. Wands with twirling LED lights.  Faux coconut cups with straws.  Tiny packages of Smarties.  And sunglasses in as many ridiculous shapes as you could ever wish to find.

I think I picked a pinata just so that I would have an excuse to fill it.  Reese picked "the one with the toilet paper hanging down".  If that isn't fabulous, I don't know what is.

word of the day 158/365: friend

On Saturday, I found a wallet at the farmer's market.  After speaking to its owner on the phone and arranging its return to her, I felt like the two of us were friends.  I wonder, is there some young friend missing his seashell and coin? Were they left by accident?

Sometimes I wonder about the recipients of guerrilla goodness.  Does finding a note bring happiness to them?  Did somebody leave these here for us to find, imagining the surprised smile on the face of the finder?

wordless wednesday

word of the day 140/365: this

THIS is unexpected, kick-ass, ferrous fun with SCIENCE.

THIS is father-and-son bonding, creative, giggly FUN.

word of the day 133/365: favorite

Does anybody else have trouble answering those "what's your favorite ____" questions? I loathe them.  LOATHE, I tell you.  They're completely ridiculous.  Why should anybody be limited to one favorite thing in each category?  I'd far rather hear "what are some movies you really like?" or "what restaurants rock your world?" or "name three songs that shaped your childhood." Or something.

I feel similarly about the concept of "best friends." Best for what? Best for going to the theater? Best for hanging out on the back porch? Best for going to for advice on how to handle a sticky situation?

I think I may be more of an in-the-moment person when it comes to favorites.  The friend I'm with is my favorite.  The awesome thing I'm doing.  The song I'm listening to.  The child who's hugging me.  Right in that moment, that person or thing is superlatively fantastic. 

Right in the moment when I took this photo, the weather was perfect for gardening - cool and a little overcast, with moist but not muddy soil.  I had just finished tilling the whole garden for (late, but perfectly so) spring planting.  I recovered these herb markers, given to me by a friend, who reigned supreme in my heart as I looked upon her gift. The kids were making mud puddles and splashing in them, clad in nothing but boots and underwear.  My neighbors happily accepted the gift of some extra tarragon.  It was all my favorite.

Griff seems to follow in his mama's footsteps.  When asked what the word evokes for him, he picked up the book he was reading right that moment.  Isn't that an awesome kind of favorite? Really loving what you're doing right now, without wishing you were doing something else that you enjoy more?

word of the day 119/365: small

The little unlooked-for moments are the things I live for. 

Yesterday I noticed the lifeless critter habitat that houses several overwintered chrysalises and remarked to myself that I really ought to empty it into the compost.  I had assumed that any survivors would eclose early in the season, and since I've been seeing adult swallowtails for three weeks and found eggs over two weeks ago, I'd given ours up for dead. 

But today! Today, Griff and I were walking past the neglected habitat and I heard him exclaim, "oh! a butterfly!"  Sure enough, one full-fledged imago sat on some leaves inside.  If Griff hadn't noticed her (yup, she's female), I probably would have walked on by, since I stopped checking daily a while ago.  She might have starved!  

After giving up just yesterday, finding her today seemed like a miracle, and it added a touch of extra excitement as we freed her from the habitat and watched her fly away over the neighbors' fence.  I've resumed thrice-daily checks on the remaining chrysalis.  Will it eclose and give us another small thrill?