Aquarium

One of the parts I like about hosting out-of-town visitors is that they pull me out of my daily routines. It's a lot like going on vacation, except I get to stay in my own bed.

The girls wanted to see some of the local sights while they were here, so we put together a list of options when they first arrived. I skipped out on a few of the shopping expeditions, but joined them on many of their adventures. 

Kansas City has had an aquarium open for almost a decade now. I knew it was there, but seeing the fish never got to the top of my list. The advertised $32 entrance fee was part of why I hadn't gone, so I when I decided to bring the girls there anyways, I was pleased to find they offer a 20% AAA discount at the door. (bonus!) We went in the middle of the week, hoping it wouldn't be too crowded, and the plan worked - a plus in these waning (I hope!!!) days of COVID.

There was more to the exhibits than I'd anticipated. From the touch pond where you first come in, to the kid's activities near the exit, the experience was well thought out; aimed at kids, but also fun for adults. I'd never had a chance to touch a live starfish before! (Not sure what the starfish thought about the experience, but it didn't jump in fear, so I suppose it was OK with it?)

I could have happily stayed and stared at the biggest aquarium for an hour, and probably would have if I didn't need to move along to accommodate the next group of visitors. It was calming, watching the sharks, bottom feeders, turtles, and assorted other swimmers lazily make their way around the enclosure.

That said, I also enjoyed looking at the sea horses and dragons, the clown fish, the stingrays, and all the other underwater plant and animal life. As we wandered through, a familiar sense of wonder and awe surfaced, as it does for me pretty much every time I get a glimpse of the amazing variety sea life.

Truth be told, though I do understand the basics of their underlying biology, my mind is still boggled by the fact that some animals can breathe water. I did a lot of swimming back in the day, and attempted to breathe in more water than I care to remember. It never went well.

Yet, there they swim, happily twisting and darting and floating and resting and clearly alive, breathing the water as I breathe the air. Mind. Blown. Every time.

What matter of wonderful happenstance could have life start as undistinguished muck and then move in so many diverse ways to end up with some of the animals breathing air, some water, and a few, both? And what hubris to think that because "I" happened to come along, that evolution somehow peaked with the world the as it was when I showed up. I certainly hope that's not the case!

It makes me sad to know I won't get to know what wonders will appear after my time here is done. Or, maybe I will get to watch the next episode. Who knows? This much I know for certain - I have no flippin' clue what actually happens after time ends for me, and neither does anyone else alive. I choose to hope there is an after, after life. It makes death less scary for me.

And I'll take all the less scary I can find these days.

Group Puzzlers

I have some company here for a couple of weeks and have been thoroughly enjoying the change in routine. Last year, I restarted one of my favorite traditions, which was to have my nieces and nephews come stay for a while in the summer. The practice had lapsed for almost a decade - between my camper van trip, major house renovations, and dealing with cancer, the visits just didn't happen.

Both Sophia and Autumn came down from Minnesota last year; I was thrilled when they accepted my invitation to visit again. As a bonus, Autumn is old enough to make the drive down, so getting them down here was much simpler than it's been in years past.

We have been getting out and about, checking out the local attractions they weren't able to see last year because most things were closed, but we have also had a lot of down time; time to just be. 

Autumn came prepared; she brought two puzzles with her, and picked up another couple after she got here. She likes to do them at home, and when she was here last year, she dug into my jigsaw puzzle collection as a way to pass some time. We had some good conversations as we sat around the table assembling the pictures.

Now, those who know me well, might find the 'we' part of the previous sentence a bit surprising. I've never been good about sharing my puzzles. I want to find ALL the pieces, and I certainly don't want someone else to find the three-corner blue one that has just a trace of pink on one edge before I do, especially when I've been searching for it for several hours. Amazingly enough, it seems time has mellowed my possessive streak, and I haven't had to have a single word with myself about sharing nicely. Seems I'm still capable of learning and growing - good to know.

Turns out, putting puzzles together is a great way to get (re)acquainted. Having the puzzle to divide focus is a good way to start what I think of as long conversations. I'm thinking of the kind of talk that only seems to start when time stretches as it does on long drives.

The conversation ebbs and flows, veering easily from the serious to the trivial. I've learned a lot about how they weathered COVID, what's going on at school. I've caught up on some family gossip, expanded my knowledge of how life navigation techniques have changed since I was their age, some forty years ago. (could it really be true???? Simple math seems to think so...)

They are resilient, intelligent, and interesting young women. I am honored by their willingness to give me a glimpse into the challenges and joys of their worlds. If their peers are anything like them, the world is in good hands for the next generation. 

They're the kind of people, who, when they come across that three-cornered blue piece with the pink streak, hand it over for me to triumphantly fit into place myself, instead of stealing it for themselves. You know, the good kind of people.

It's done my heart good to have them here...

New Roof!

 

I've been monitoring a couple of water marks on my living room ceiling for a couple of years. They started small, as such marks often do, and they haven't grown quickly, but this spring's series of storms had the dark streaks getting longer and darker. It was probably past time to get the problem fixed.

The water streaks are in an unlikely spot for a roof leak  - in the middle of the room, far from the walls, with bedrooms (and NO plumbing) directly above. I called in my favorite roofer. He climbed up, looked around, and said he'd happily take my money to replace the roof, but he suspected the chimney was the root of the problem. I called in a stone mason. He climbed up. looked at the mortar, and said, yup, the chimney needed a face lift, but he wouldn't guarantee doing that would fix both leaks; he suspected the one was caused by faulty flashing.

I decided to cover my bases, and hired both crews. I had to wait a bit for the stone mason to get to my job, but he came out a couple of weeks ago and got the chimney looking downright spiffy! Re-tuckpointed, a new cap, an acid wash - it probably hasn't looked that good in fifty years.

To my pleasant surprise, the roofer was able to fit me in just two weeks later. The crew showed up bright and early on Tuesday this past week. They rang my doorbell to let me know they were getting started at 6:45 AM, were finished by 4:00. (Angel did NOT care for the process. Once the roof started making noise, she headed straight to the basement, where she stayed, in a defensive crouch, eyes wide, for much of the day.  Sorry, kitty...)

I probably won't know if we managed to fix the leaks for quite a while. We're past spring rain season, and there clearly wasn't too much water getting in, since it took a good two years to make a foot-long mark on the ceiling. That said, I have every confidence that, if it's not fixed, between the two of them, the stone mason and roofer will come back and make it good.

As part of the roof process, I wanted the roofing crew to tighten up a piece of flashing on the north eaves. Squirrels once used the opening to get into their condo, and with the squirrels gone, some birds had nested there last year.

The crew missed it on their big work day, but when Raul came back to do some cleanup work, I brought him around the side of the house to point it out. As we were standing there looking up at the roof, a little bird came to perch on the roof just above the eave. He peered curiously down at us, his black head cocked at a questioning angle. Raul's first language isn't English, but the look on his face said it all, and mirrored my own. "Eggs", was all Raul said.

I sighed. I'd thought the birds had moved on this year, the presence of the little guy on the roof clearly said I'd been mistaken. I didn't have it in me to tell Raul he had to go destroy the nest, and he clearly didn't want to do the deed.

Fine. The birds can stay for the rest of the summer. I'm pretty sure I can get someone out here to set up the ladder this fall, and it'll take about five minutes to set some new screws so they can't use the nest again next year.

The chirps I heard coming from the eaves early yesterday morning as I was working in the driveway told me I'd made the right decision. There is more than enough killing in this world, we need all the birdsong we can get to right the balance just a bit.

Sing on, little guy!

Little Libraries

I found another Little Library near my house the other day when I was out walking. Number me among the people who can't walk by one of the boxes without stopping for a peek inside.

I hit the jackpot that day - I found three intriguing books therein. And then, since I was out, I meandered by the other little library near my house. And picked up two more stories. I tend to pick up books from the libraries that I wouldn't otherwise buy or even check out of the 'real' library. I choose genres I don't normally read, authors I've not heard of before.

Often, I realize there are reasons I don't often read books in a given genre (i.e. romance books. I always think I'm up for a little romance, but usually find the plot to be thin, the writing mediocre.) But then. Then there are the unexpected gems. A well-written book by a  new (to me) author that hooks me from the first page and lets me spend a few hours in an imaginary world.  Yes!

I often feel just a tad guilty about my finds, because I know I'm supposed to leave a book when I take one. But usually when I stop by, I was out on a walk with no intention of book browsing, and have nothing in my hands to offer. I just hope people will understand. I DO eventually get by to return a book - sometimes it's the original book I borrowed, sometimes I choose something neglected on my shelf, hoping someone else will give the story a better home. (Those unexpected gems don't get to go back to the libraries, though I do try to replace them with a neglected good story from my existing book collection.)

I want to do more book reading in my day-to-day life; it's one of the activities I don't have time to do when I spend too much time mindlessly skimming news on the internet. As I walk around the park, sometimes I see someone sitting on a bench in the shade enjoying a book. Back when I was working, I promised me that would be me some day. Now I'm retired, it still hasn't been me, but I'm still determined that it will be one of these days.

My reading time has always been after dinner, after the rest of the chores for the day are completed. Now, there have been just a few mornings where, when I got up, instead of starting on my list of to-dos, I've instead sat down with my coffee to finish the story I'd reluctantly put down the night before because my eyes decided to stop focusing on the page. I count those mornings as a win.

I'm glad there are people near my house who have jumped on the Little Library bandwagon. Their keepers get nothing tangible in return for the work they do to maintain the structures, weeding through the books on occasion, refilling from their own book stashes when the shelves are bare. It's one of those things that gives me hope for humanity - people giving to people just because they want to share.

Does my heart good.