Cranes are here somewhere, probably, maybe not.

On Thursday, we went on a short field-trip from Seattle to Othello, in Eastern Washington State.  Othello is a small farming town which gains some publicity each spring during the Sandhill Crane migration.   According to the local paper, thousands of Sandhill Cranes were wandering the fields outside town and could be seen by the casual visitor who arrived before noon.  By noon, we read, they retreat back to the marshlands in the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge.

Eastern Washington is flat and blocked with green fields
straddled by the wide metal arcs of sprinklers.

The Crew in the Back
(Tara, Alex, Frost, Wren, Phoebe)

Othello is almost 190 miles from Seattle so we left on Thursday afternoon and spent the night at Moses Lake, leaving at 8am after an early breakfast.   It was still cool when we arrived at the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge Rangers Station in Othello.  The streets in Othello are about 8 cars wide and rutted with gravel.  We pulled in and were surprised to find the office open by 8am.   The Rangers were very helpful, giving us a map of likely viewing sites for cranes and burrowing owls and the boys enjoyed seeing the alarming stuffed crane and bald eagle posed in the reception area.


Unfortunately, this was the only Sandhill crane I have ever seen.

The only Sandhill crane we saw was not in the corn fields.

The bald eagle appears to have been struck by budget cuts.

Unfortunately, the Sandhill Cranes had not been informed of their expected locations and were not in the fields.  The ranger said we should probably have been here at dawn when the cranes would have been hungry and visiting corn fields to forage.  We would have come at dawn if we had known but we didn't.  The Rangers said that we had a good chance of seeing them roosting at the wetlands where they returned after feeding. 

We hunted valiantly, following the map along various unmarked roads in the Refuge but did not find the cranes.

However, we had more luck with the burrowing owls.  I don't have a telephoto lens or aspirations to bird photography so here is someone else's burrowing owl.  They are small owls that make underground burrows.  During mating season they stand up near the nest and can be seen on their long little legs. 

Burrowing Owl - feeling anxious at
the proximity of the minivan.

After some lostness we managed to track down a burrowing owl nest.  I won't get into details other than saying that by following the rangers map we inadvertantly overshot the intended viewing site and saw the owl very closely.   We then withdrew, and used the telescope and saw a second owl slightly further away.    It was a wonderful siting of a wonderful bird. 

The boys stalk closer to the burrowing owl
who promptly vanished into his burrow.

The burrow

Fred, Alex and Tara look from a discrete distance

The landscape out there is spacious and you can travel great distances without seeing a car.  Tumbleweeds reel across the road when the wind blows and great drifts of them pile up downwide on steep hillsides and cliffs.   Frost wanted to bring a huge tumbleweed home but we could find no place for it in the van and no way to travel with it on the roof.

Frost, Alex and Tara gather tumbleweeds.

The tumbleweed Frost wanted to bring home.

Me, with the photogenic tumbleweed.

Tara and Fred

Phoebe avoiding any contact with the tumbleweeds.

The Tumbleweed and Tara and Fred, Again. 
Its starting to look pretty malevolent to me by this point.

Frost persevering with this plan to bring the tumbleweed home

Among our other memorable moments was Tara's siting of a farmyard filled with roaming peacocks and peahens.  I have never seen peacocks with such large tails.  Frost stalked into the farmyard to take this picture and another of a peacock leaping from a roof down to the grass.  We thought he might be shot for trespassing because it was that kind of place.  Fortunately, he survived.

The peacock farm

When we arrived home I was distraught to realize we had left SOFT SHIRT in the motel in Moses Lake.  Housekeeping had not found it and I despaired of ever seeing it again.  It turned out that soft had not been left behind - but had been left in the car overnight.

I called Joshua and told him I had "lost soft" and was very upset.

He said "WHAT?"

I repeated "we have LOST SOFT"

"Oh," he said.  "I thought you said you had lost FROST.  I don't care about that stupid shirt."

I was indignant and feel I am now Soft's protector although his comment was probably best understood in the context that he doesn't care about the stupid shirt as much as he cares about his unstupid son.

Tired.  TV.  Tea.

That Cheapskate Tooth Fairy who is not real anyway.

Wren says he has had an awful day that wasn't too bad.  It was awful because he spat out a bit of tooth at breakfast, kicked his foot twice, fell on his bottom twice (coming down the slide too fast) and had to go to the dentist to evaluate the tooth situation.

It was also dreadful because of the stupid tooth fairy.

When Wren's tooth fragment fell out, he was elated.  "YAY!  This means I will get money from the tooth fairy!" he said.

"I am not sure the tooth fairy pays for parts of teeth"  I commented.

Fool.

"But my tooth fell out!" said Wren, adamantly.

"Oh, I guess so, but it shouldn't really do that when you are not at school yet.  Its a bit soon.  I think a bit broke."

Wren: "BROKE?"

Me:  "Just a tiny bit."

The piece looked like half a grain of calrose rice.  The dentist later told us that it wasn't really even tooth but rather a piece of filling which resembled tooth.  It had, apparently, been loosened by Wren's infamous tooth-grinding.  Even if the tooth fairy paid for parts of teeth, she certainly wouldn't pay for parts of non-tooth particulate.

"BROKE!"  Wren was not upset, but indignant.

I nod.  

"The Tooth Fairy does not exist!"  he announced as his first assault.  "YOU are the Tooth Fairy.  I want 3 dollars!"

"Me?"  I said.  "Well, I am sometimes a Tooth Fairy but some people think there is a Real Tooth Fairy.  Tara does!"

Wren:  "Well, I think there is NO TOOTH FAIRY."

Me:  "Okay"

Wren:  "But I do think she brings me THREE DOLLARS."

Me:  "If you go to the dentist because part of your tooth falls out, I will give you two dollars."

Wren:  "Three dollars."  [yelled]

Me:  [Raised voice]  "I am offering you two dollars for teeth.  The tooth Fairy in our family does not give three dollars.  What do you even want three dollars for anyway?"

Wren:  I will NEVER EVER LET MY STUPID TEETH FALL OUT UNLESS THE TOOTH FAIRY GIVES ME THREE DOLLARS."

ME:  THEN YOU WILL LOOK LIKE A SHARK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL OF TEETH!


[SILENCE]

Me:  What do you want money for anyway?

Wren:  I like to go to the toy store and go shopping.

Me:  Well, we can do that sometime.

Wren:  I will sell away my toys and go shopping.

Yeah!

----------------

It was also a good day because we went to the playground, ate a donut, picked up Wren's Paint the Town Dragon, played pigs, didn't need a shot at the first dentist visit and made a fire in the garden.
-----------------

Anyway, for those of you not updated via Facebook, Wren's chest pain was diagnosed as "chest wall" pain, and his knee pain as restless leg syndrome (he commonly has sore knees at night).

I was very relieved to hear that the doctor did not think it was heart related and told him to sit up straighter and slowly breath more deeply until it passed.

Thanks for the concern everyone.

Wren goes to the dentist tomorrow (with antibiotic prophylaxis) to have his filling replaced.

Cheese pain

Cheese Pain is going to be my shorthand for Chest Pain.  Chest pain is too scary. 

So, this morning at Breakfast Wren complained of cheese pain.  He said "Ow, ow, my che** hurts.  I think it is the metal in my chest from surgery!"

Wren only learned or rather, re-learned about the metal in his chest recently.  I thought he might be suffering psychological pain so I asked where it hurt.  

He pointed to a spot between his nipple and sternum and said it was very sore.  Now and Now.

I called the heart center nurses line and thank-the-gods, they answered.  I had this horrible thought that he was going to have a heart attack and I couldn't remember all the steps or the idea rate.

For the record, his pulse is 88 and so that is the goal!

Anyway, spoke to the cardiology nurse and she looked him up and said I should "look at the big picture".  Since he has energy, is not ill and has normal behavior of late, we are not leaping to dark conclusions about the cheese.

She said I should call the Ped if it persists in case its referred pain, a respiratory infection or something gaseous in nature.

I called the Ped in case.  We shall see the doc at 2.45pm unless he is fine by then.

Wren has since added that it hurts when he breathes, a tinsy bit.

We are not panicking.   Now, a secret, I only really gave up dairy completely for two weeks.  I love cheese.

What your mother told ya

This is what I found when I opened the dishwasher last night.  The whole blade of the knife was sheared off.  I theorized to Josh that it was metal fatigue.  See, this is why your mother told you not to put the silver and the bone china in the dishwasher!  Not only is the gold leaf washed from the crockery, the cutlery develops a dark patina and blades from your heirloom knives can just BREAK IN TWO!

This was a knife my Gran bought at Greenacres. 

I am going back to handwashing the knives.  I am offering myself as a life lesson to girls embarking on household management.  Use borax, wash the good stuff by hand and Listen to Your Mother.

Do you want a coffee with that espresso?

I have been using my coffee crutch a bit lately.  Its not my fault (is it ever) - its the fact that I really like peace and quiet with my rain instead of rushing and driving.  Driving in rain is so much work - you can't see properly, everyone is rushing, the single lane roads are always double breasted with traffic and the transitions are complicated by mud and... blah blah [insert complaining here]

But if you're inside and have coffee its so lovely.  Its like a big sign saying "Sit back for some caffeinated contemplation."

Then in the middle of your relaxing midday-crisis when you're drawing Venn diagrams in your mind with words like "Botanical Illustration of mushrooms" in one and "World health activist" in another and "Wise Mother" in a third and you've just seen a potential overlap and then someone yells or breaks something or swears like a sailor and it goes like this:

Wren:  Play with me NOW.

Me: I am just sitting down for a moment.

Wren:  NOOOOO!!!!   Crud!

Me:  Wren!  I am just having a moment of coffee and ...

Wren:  I HATE YOU!

Me:  Well, I don't like you either.

Wren:  I AM GOING TO LIVE WITH DADDY ONLY.  I WISH YOU LIVED SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Me:  Well, I would like that right now!

And in your head you are rewriting those Venn Diagrams into "Wise Juvenile Mother" and "Solitary Artist" instead.

----*-------

Frost is reading his way through Pinkerton’s books [Thanks Mum].  He has read the Hobokin Chicken Emergency and is now enjoying the one about the Cat Whiskered Girl.   He says they are very funny and have unusual things happening in them and keeps wanting to recount detailed incidents which sound a bit Dada.

Meanwhile, as you may have gathered from the earlier dialogue, Wren is practicing being a dictator and I am not going by the Parenting Books in my reaction.  I am just done being reasonable (you can make some creepy laughter here if you think I have never been on the big R side).  

If I were writing a book on Child Development I would get rid of the myth of the terrible twos and start a new theory of the Ferocious Fours.  Four is horrible.  Wren is vocal enough to explain his preferences with exquisite precision and loud enough to make that conversation painful.  He is also cute enough to make his demanding conversations fascinating and worthy so you feel like a stink saying No to anything.

Actually, they are not conversations.  They are directives.   Four is all about telling us what he wants. 

What does Wren want?  The moment he gets up, Wren wants to PLAY with you.  Rather, you have to play with him. IF you don’t he lets out a piercing angry shriek and falls on the floor in angry sobs.   He likes to play Pigs in the [INSERT CURRENT LEVEL OR GAME HERE] and Magic the Gathering.  Many times, he wants to “Check for something on the internet” or “Make a new deck” all before breakfast.  Lately, with Daylight saving beginning and some residual time dislocation from our HAwaai trip, we are getting up by 8am for an 8.30am bus.  There is no time for games. 

What does Frost want?

Peace

Money

Internet / games

Stay up late

A bedtime snack at 9pm.

What do I want?

Heck if I know but it better come with a coffee on the side.

Do you want a gun with that Iodine?

I woke up today (an hour early due to daylight savings time) to ongoing US anxiety about the threat of nuclear contamination from the Japanese power plants.   Even as experts say that the risk has decreased and the worst risk has passed, there is news that the US Navy has repositioned some of its ships near Sendai due to nuclear radiation detected 100km offshore.   The BBC News live coverage reports from Tokyo:

1844: Mikan in Tokyo writes: "There is a growing sense that the Japanese government is not telling us the true story. On one end, there is the Japanese media that plays down the nuclear drama and focuses on human drama, and at the other, the foreign media is up-playing the nuclear disaster. In my company I heard at least half the essential staff is being sent to Hong Kong, Singapore or even Sydney. I am preparing to leave Tokyo and/or Japan. So are many of my friends. There is a sense of deserting Tokyo as soon as possible."

So, its probably going to be fine.  Right?   We shouldn't over-react.  Still, many people I have spoken with have been wondering about disaster preparation.  Should we be doing something so we would be prepared? 

And prepared for what, exactly.

Modern disaster anxieties are not specific.  People seem to fear the breakdown of the urban fabric so well documented during the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina.  At the same time as we're worrying about where our food comes from we are worrying about what we'd do if it stopped.  Stopped coming, that is. 

However much we like to eat organic, ethical, yummy, local food,  mass-produced gene-ripped soy-meat-goop is better than nothing.

Or, as a friend mentioned today.  "I have been thinking about buying a gun."  Later in the conversation she admitted she had contacted a local farm to ask about buying an "Armageddon Share" of produce to sustain the family in the event of a catastrophe.

I was interested to learn that although Japan is prone to earthquakes, a Reuters article reports that "some estimates suggest as few as 14 percent of property owners in the country have earthquake insurance".  I have considered adding Earthquake Insurance to our homeowners policy but it adds a lot - like an extra 40% to annual policy costs.  I can understand why people are reluctant to spend so much when there is no earthquake damage to their area in recent memory.

Most of us don't live the life of an insurance risk estimator.  Asteroids and earthquakes are equally costly to me if they are fatal and disasters only occur to me when they happen to someone else.   I don't think this has this really changed through human history.  What seems to be new in the social imagination is this concept of society breaking down. 

Most of us born after the wars haven't really experienced the kind of dislocation and scarcity from widespread damage.  As individuals, we are helpless, lacking even the market gardens or small-holdings of the almost-recent past.  At the same time, our [social] infrastructure is becoming so advanced and pervasive that the notion that we could be cut off from each other and the sources of food and information is almost unbelievable.

If we were cut off from food and money what would we do?

I guess that's where the gun comes in.

I read an anecdote from a resident of Tokyo about his reaction when the power and utilities were cut off due to earthquake damage.  He had a bit of food stored and managed to buy some more from a local supermarket (the staff wrote down the things sold so that they could record them in the absence of electronic systems) but he spent hours walking around Tokyo looking for a battery powered supply for his cell phone.  That was the only remaining form of contact available to him.  He kept switching it off and on hourly to preserve the battery.

Anyway, I have to go and indulge in my utilities right now - to electrically boil water, to make some manufactured hot chocolate for my toy dependent 4-year old who just made up the new word "DESPLOGONAUG" to describe his ultimately destructive monster-machine.

And those of us who live in the Desplogonaug of contemporary society and yet dread the implications of it being damaged or decaying must continue to ponder the question of what constitutes a reasonable response to disaster preparation and what is in the realm of a child's play.

Weekend summary

We had a peaceful weekend.  Against the background of heavy rain and frequent checks on BBC News to learn updates on the Tsunami-earthquake-nuclear reactor situation, we went to two birthday parties, a sleepover, a soccer game and out to Indian Late-lunch.

Wren and Frost and Wren both loved Joey's birthday at the Seattle Gymnastics Academy in Salmon Bay.  It was very easy and fun and good to meet some preschool families out of the rush of dropoff and pickup.  Joey is turning 5.

"I am going to drag you back into the pit!"
"NOOOOOOOO!!!"

"WAIT FOR MEEEE!!!!"

Sunday morning we went over to Nic and Anna's for a small birthday tea for Leo who turned 4.  Unfortunately, Anna was at a birth and so Nic had to handle things.  We still had a great time and Wren enjoyed playing playdoh in the mini-kitchen.

The birthday boy blows and wishes
(and blows and wishes again)

Leo and Ari (his sister) with their donut birthday cakes.

Frost had his last Indoor Soccer game of the season.  Josh and I had a 'disagreement' at the game.  Josh feels that Frost should not play soccer because he is often inattentive, uncompetitive and not sufficiently motivated to support the team effort. 

Later, I watched some more tsunami footage, ran for the first time in almost a month (3 miles without incident) and ate Indian at Bengal Tiger.

The rain is still falling and news channels are playing the same videos over and over.  I am considering making an emergency plan and buying some supplies. Joshua talked through all the likely emergencies and feels we are well positioned to cope with natural disasters and should probably buy another house in the neighborhood because everyone will want to live here.

Where did the Moms come from?

We went to Me 'n Moms in Ballard today, to drop of a large load of toys to consign.  I felt such relief to have unloaded them there that I shall probably donate them to their charity if they do not sell! 

Wren has been quite thoughtful recently.  On the way, driving along 85th through Greenwood, he asked:

"Who would be in the tummy when every body was a baby in the whole wide world?  I mean, where is their Mommies?"

I explained that many people wondered about that.  Some people said that God made the first baby.  Other people said that little animals like Scrat in Ice Age became apes and long ago some apes changed slowly to be like people.  

Wren did not buy either theory. 

"Monkeys come from Monkeys and Humans come from Humans!"  he confirmed.  "Maybe the humans came from another world?"

"Maybe in another land there everyone were lots and lots of grown-ups?  Maybe that is how it was?  I mean, I am not talking about real life NOW ...

This is very very tricky in the real-real world."

Wren and his cussing ways

Wren has a problem with swearing or, rather, we have a problem with Wren swearing.

This evening, I was in the other room while the boys were playing together.  I heard Wren's high little voice say to Frost:  "Crud.  You are a dumb bastard!"

"Wren!" I said.  "What on earth are you using rude words for?  That is very rude and we don't talk like that here."

Wren said "I don't love you and I don't love Frost.  I only love DADDY!"

Then he lay on the floor and yelled and fake cried.

Later, he called Frost a "Fart Face".  He routinely says "Crud" and "Dumbass."   None of us talk like this!

Okay, I will fess up to saying "Holy Smokes" a bit.  Wren's version?  "Holy CRAP!"

Frost says he learned Dumb Bastard from Futurama.  Frost may have said Holy crap once or twice... not even sure he did, and he was told off if that was the case.  I told Wren he could say "Holy Mackerel" instead and he is trying.

I am becoming very firm about his foul language but we have to figure out where he is learning it from.  Come out you cussers!  Let me see your tongues.

Brenneckes Pacific Garbage

Before we left Kauai Mum and I took the kids for a morning swim at Brenneckes Beach.   The road to the beach was covered with puddles of muddy red water and Indian Mynahs, chickens and golden plovers were dotted across the oceanfront lawns, bright from recent rain.

Down on the beach Wren played "bad crab" with the remnants of yesterday's sandcastles - the bad crab attacks the castles with tunnels, sledgehammer and other driftwood - while Mum and Frost had the first swim and boogie board.  While they played and swam I walked up and down the short stretch of sand collecting bits of rubbish and plastic left at or above the tide line.  

Plastics from the beach Saturday morning.

We were only at the beach a short while and I collected a full plastic bag full of plastics.   The rubbish on the beach included a couple of beer cans, a single flip-flop in the rocks, four clear plastic bags, some sunblock and a pair of broken sunglasses but most of it was particles of plastic.  I have never seen so many small plastic aggregates on a beach before.  The plastic was almost 50/50 white and blue.  Most of the pieces were tiny, smaller than a quarter and of irregular shape - the product of weeks, months or years of disaggregation at sea.  Many pieces appeared melted down - as if a plastic container had melted into a lump of toothpaste - but words or labeling was sometimes visible in part.  The harder you looked, the more tiny pieces of plastic you noticed.

[Perhaps the heat of the sun causes this or recycled plastic lumps fall from a ship into the ocean?  I cannot explain it and, since I am writing this on the trans-Pacific flight home to Seattle, I can't look it up.]

When you sit down on this beach, and the others I saw on the South Side of the island, the sand is littered with tiny plastic particles (again, mostly bright blue and white).   On a beach without street access, we walked in one windy afternoon and looked out across a brilliant blue cove to a distant peak falling down black cliffs breaking rolling waves.  On that beach people had piled the plastics up near the dunes, where the beach shrubs began to offer cover.  The pile included bags of tiny plastic particles, lengths of green nylon rope, two large plastic drums (corroded shut but containing liquid) that looked as though they may hold fuel or water for a small craft as well as plastic pallets, tubs, sections of plastic pipe and masses of larger plastic shards, weathered from their manufactured gloss into an almost organic feel.

This picture makes it look like the pieces are large.  The smaller
bits are at the bottom of the bag.

More than once I big a plastic aggregate or rough plastic to confirm it was not a piece of coral, rock or other natural object.

I weighed the bag when I returned to the house and it was 2.5 lbs of plastic from one small (25 yard) stretch of beach in less than 30 minutes.  

I am considering banning all plastic in our home.  What would that mean?  Can we live post-plastic?   Have you seen this kind of plastic waste on your beaches?

The Great Pacific Garbage Dump