joie

Excuse Me for One More Wood Joke

So the anniversary was productive, delicious and thoroughly enjoyable.

Delicious because we finally tried out Three Doors Down, which I have wanted to go to for 7 years. If you ever go there, the seared scallops and peaches with honey cream sauce is divine. Their signature dish, the penne with vodka sauce had too much build up, I'm afraid. When I told my friend, J. I was going there, she said "I've only been there once, but there's this one dish they have...."
"The vodka penne?"
"YES!!!" Rolling her eyes in the back of her head.
"So, its as good as they say?"
"Oh. My. God. I don't know how to describe it. Every bite was better than the one before it. Your mouth never gets tired of it."
"Wow, I have to try it."
"Its, its like the 'big O'!" I think to myself, ovulation? No...then kind of a long, only slightly awkward pause, "Well, of course, this is coming from someone who isn't getting any..."
A little longer, slightly more awkward pause, and then in my dorky compulsion to fill the space, I answered, "Well, I can have multiples! One from the pasta, and then one from Dan's noodle!" End of conversation.

Productive,because I was able to find a gift that Dan loved. a $1.99 bamboo back scratcher from Cost Plus. There was other stuff, too, but that was the wood (bamboo is wood, right?), and his favorite part. Who knew it was so easy? For his part, he called me out into the garage and there was an inexpensive wooden step stool in the middle.  The look in my eyes must have said, "Oh, how nice, but is that all there is?" So, he instructed me to climb it, silly! And there, in the rafters was a small package containing some massage tools from The Body Shop, including  this:

My gift of wood with Dexter in the foreground mistaking the massager for a new crotch to sniff.

It was also productive because I finally scheduled the mammogram my doctor told me to get over three weeks ago. Mammogram?! But, I didn't think women in their fertile years with NO family history of breast cancer got those! OH MY GOD!! The infertility was enough, but now I'm of the age for mammograms? And in protest, my breasts have been hurting LIKE CRAZY for the past two days, and I am now partaking in the subtle dance of "Maybe...could it be...? But, better not get my hopes up..." that every infertile knows. To top it all off, the mammogram is scheduled for the day before my cycle is expected to refresh. So now I've added some fancy steps to the dance, called the twirl around  'radiology would be dangerous if you are pregnant' then big kick to yourself for even thinking that is a possibility.

Do You Think Zappos.com Sells Snakeskin Boots?

First, I want to say thank you to all of you who helped me with ideas for gifts. You came up with some good ones. Yesterday Dan came home from work (he's doing summer school, I am NOT--no way!) and was all grumpy and sad. It took a while to pull it out of him (as usual) but when he finally spit it out, it turns out that the 3rd anniversary is leather, not wood. And he was really upset because he's been working on something diligently in the garage and now feels like he got it all wrong. Awwww! Honey, we can do leather next year! And I have ALL kinds of ideas for that one! Like this. This might come in handy while working on wood. (Tee hee!) Or, for a more formal occasion, this might be an appropriate choice. These are a nice idea for a joint gift from Dexter and me. Now, for me, what I really want is this or this. But, in the case that I am (cross my fingers) nursing by our next anniversary, this and this may come in very handy.

Then, while I was gone for a while, he decided to read my blog and now he is telling me NOT to get him a gift because he thinks it is causing me stress. He made it very clear: "NO gift!!!" But, do I EVER listen? I'll find something....

The ideal gift for my honey right now would be some kind of snake catching device. Do they make those in wood? Am I driving you crazy with my persistent determination to stick to an arbitrary theme? Every day (literally) my cat brings us her latest catch. During the summer, she is very good at pulling her weight around here, which makes up for the other 9 months of the year when she does nothig but demand food and keep the other couch (the one humans can't sit on) warm. Today it was a bluejay. The day before a field mouse (alive!) Yesterday, it was a snake (also alive!). I debated taking a picture of it to show everyone, and in the time I took to weigh the pros and cons, it slithered under the couch. So, all I have to show you is the last one she caught, a month ago. Clearly, it was dead.

The idea of having a snake under my couch was certainly not a pleasant one, but I'm so used to living with prey in my midst, I just decided either Nadia would catch it and kill it, then I could dispose of it, or eventually it would slither back out and then I'd take it outside. Good thing Dan wasn't home. He is not a friend to the serpent. At all. They freak him out. I keep telling him, garter snakes don't even have teeth. I used to play with them when I was a kid. Harmless.

Teeth, apparently are not the issue. Its more of a slithery, hissy issue. Or some kind of Jungian collective unconscious agreement by humans to dislike snakes. He's not sure. He. Just. Doesn't. Like. Them. Got it?! So, I felt really bad when I got home from my little jaunt out (COMPLETELY forgetting about our reptilian visitor) to hear his story of discovering the snake, still very alive, greeting him on the bathroom floor as he was getting out of the shower, all naked and stuff. Oooh, I think I owe him something nice.

Proof of Fertility in My Household

I guess I can eliminate environmental causes from the list of possible explanations for my unexplained infertility, because against ALL odds, somebody around here had a very fruitful month:

This is only a small section of a 2,000 gallon pond COVERED in these little guys! I am lulled into a trance by these little guys. Already they are twice as big as they were when I discovered them a week ago. All the cliches about newborns are true. I am fascinated by how tiny they are, and how perfect. I can watch them for hours. And I am not alone:

The truth is, I am not even discouraging her anymore, because we obviously need a little population control. Yeah, yeah, I was all sentimental like 5 seconds ago, but these happened when I had FOUR fish! It only takes a little fifth grade level math to figure out what can become of my pond in a just few generations. Anybody know anybody with a hungry pirhana? Any good carp recipes? Do you think I could crumble up some birth control pills and mix them in with the de-chlorinator?

According to my very un-scientific calculations, at 1 inch of fish per gallon, my pond should be able to handle  400 large goldfish (the size of the parents) 4,000 of these little guys, or 50 chinook salmon. Eventually, something's got to give.