Well, I had to go to work on Saturday, primarily because I needed to continue medicating my fish, Afrika Bombatta. Unfortunately, when I arrived, I could immediately tell that Afrika was dead. There was a certain smell throughout the office, and when I searched and found the little guy, he was not moving.
I cleaned up the tank, and then took him to an outdoor trash can. I just couldn't flush him, he was like seven inches long, and I didn't want to have him get stuck in a pipe somewhere before it left the building.
For the remainder of the day, I worked on some music, which you can check out at my band's page Twin Rockets Are A Go, Baby!
Off and on, I thought about just when my fish died. Until I went there and gathered the evidence, the possibility existed that the fish was alive and well. There was some chance that this would happen. So, I wondered about probability and quantum mechanics on my ride home.
Afrika Bombatta
RIP
2000-2008.
Man, we've been hell on pets this year.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
FISH Update:
My African Cichlid fish is still alive. Upside down, but still alive. So, I did what I should have done on Friday, and ignored the fish store clerk's advice, and I bought some medicine and performed some fish doctoring. When I left work today, he was still kicking.
Several people have commented on the state of my fish, and wondered why the fish does not have a name. This has made me wonder, when is it that a pet requires a name? Most people don't name their fish. It's enough to know you have a fish tank. The 20 individual little swimmers are just fodder for the plecostimus, eventually.
However, when Carl had hermit crabs, they had names. A great big old snail we had we called grandpa snail. I think the pet earns a name by a combination of size and personality. That is, if it isn't quite big enough, we anthropomorphize our pets, or if they are of enough size, they also carry enough brain to interact with the family. We have to call them something, so we know how we feel about them, or, we have to call them something, so they know what they are called in the pack. Did Grandpa snail ever respond to being called Grandpa? No, but he did respond to an algae chip dangled in the water. He would truck up the side of the glass, and actually eat the algae chip out of my hand! That's a hell of a lot of personality for a snail, and earned him that name.
This is the situation: The fish is big, for a fish store tropical fish, and does respond to me in a variety of ways, and in the last few days, I can't help but feel sorry for the little son of a bitch. He meets both criteria of anthropomorphic personality and size, so even if he only has the name for one more day, he is named.
I call him Afrika Bombatta. I hope Li'l Afrika makes it through the night.
Several people have commented on the state of my fish, and wondered why the fish does not have a name. This has made me wonder, when is it that a pet requires a name? Most people don't name their fish. It's enough to know you have a fish tank. The 20 individual little swimmers are just fodder for the plecostimus, eventually.
However, when Carl had hermit crabs, they had names. A great big old snail we had we called grandpa snail. I think the pet earns a name by a combination of size and personality. That is, if it isn't quite big enough, we anthropomorphize our pets, or if they are of enough size, they also carry enough brain to interact with the family. We have to call them something, so we know how we feel about them, or, we have to call them something, so they know what they are called in the pack. Did Grandpa snail ever respond to being called Grandpa? No, but he did respond to an algae chip dangled in the water. He would truck up the side of the glass, and actually eat the algae chip out of my hand! That's a hell of a lot of personality for a snail, and earned him that name.
This is the situation: The fish is big, for a fish store tropical fish, and does respond to me in a variety of ways, and in the last few days, I can't help but feel sorry for the little son of a bitch. He meets both criteria of anthropomorphic personality and size, so even if he only has the name for one more day, he is named.
I call him Afrika Bombatta. I hope Li'l Afrika makes it through the night.
An 11th Hour Reprieve?
It appears, through no small miracle, that Lara's job will not be cut. Over the last few days, contentious street demonstrations in Chicago, lawsuits from the ACLU, and general up in arms-ness from child advocates made it clear that there are lots of places that the state budget can be cut, but child and family services can't be one of them.
So, for the time being, it looks as though we get to have our cake and eat it, too. Actually, the no cake diet we have been on for the last few months has been a blessing in disguise. Never has it been more apparent to us that most things we come to expect in our lives ain't worth the money we spend. So, we have learned to live a little leaner, and will try to keep our excesses from getting the better of us.
Here's to all our friends and family, many of whom made it clear to us their willingness to help if we needed it. Thanks!
So, for the time being, it looks as though we get to have our cake and eat it, too. Actually, the no cake diet we have been on for the last few months has been a blessing in disguise. Never has it been more apparent to us that most things we come to expect in our lives ain't worth the money we spend. So, we have learned to live a little leaner, and will try to keep our excesses from getting the better of us.
Here's to all our friends and family, many of whom made it clear to us their willingness to help if we needed it. Thanks!
Friday, November 21, 2008
No Really, We're Kind To Animals....
When I got back from my trip to Chi-town, I was saddened and surprised to see my fish, originally Lara's fish, a African Cichlid, laboriously swimming upside down in his tank. We bought the little guy about 8 years ago, with a brood of others, not knowing how territorial and vicious the little bastards would be. Within a few months, there were only two cichlids left. Then, there was one. It would kill anything we put in with it, so it was decided that I would put it in solitary confinement up in my office at work.
He has been happily living up there for over two years. He is probably close to 7 inches long, which makes him about the biggest cichlid I've seen home raised, and he is also among the oldest tropical fish we've ever had.
So, even though it's hard to get attached to a fish, he has been around for a long time, and it is clear that he has some kind of internal parasitic infection going on. As soon as I got back in my office, I went to the local fish store (Will and Vic's Fishnet, a Carbondale institution), and described the situation to one of the employees of the shop. "He's swimming upside down, his belly is distended, and he's got a raw spot on his chest. Also, pinkish, possibly bloody areas in the creases around his fins. Is there anything I can do for him?" To which the employee replied, "Yeah, you can kiss his ass goodbye."
It was said with sympathy. He said there really was little I can do, and as serious as the symptoms sounded, it was unlikely that he would respond to any treatments for the swim bladder, or any of the parasitic medicines they had. So, I respect the employee for not trying to sell me stuff that wasn't going to work anyway. But still, I expect that on Monday, another Pugh household pet will have met its maker.
He has been happily living up there for over two years. He is probably close to 7 inches long, which makes him about the biggest cichlid I've seen home raised, and he is also among the oldest tropical fish we've ever had.
So, even though it's hard to get attached to a fish, he has been around for a long time, and it is clear that he has some kind of internal parasitic infection going on. As soon as I got back in my office, I went to the local fish store (Will and Vic's Fishnet, a Carbondale institution), and described the situation to one of the employees of the shop. "He's swimming upside down, his belly is distended, and he's got a raw spot on his chest. Also, pinkish, possibly bloody areas in the creases around his fins. Is there anything I can do for him?" To which the employee replied, "Yeah, you can kiss his ass goodbye."
It was said with sympathy. He said there really was little I can do, and as serious as the symptoms sounded, it was unlikely that he would respond to any treatments for the swim bladder, or any of the parasitic medicines they had. So, I respect the employee for not trying to sell me stuff that wasn't going to work anyway. But still, I expect that on Monday, another Pugh household pet will have met its maker.
My Recent Trip to Chi-Town
Through my work, I get to travel around the country. Earlier this week, I had to take a trip to Chicago. I had put a request in from our motor pool for a Dodge Challenger or Charger, or something sporty. I got a KIA Sorento. This may have led to my disgruntled mood, as evidenced by the pictures.
When I can, I stay with Tony and Annie up in Chicago. Usually, their cats end up sleeping on me, because, like all cats, they know if a person is allergic to them. As part of my own little quirky ritual, I buy some chocolates for the Aimones to appease their darker natures (actually, cuz they are always nice enough to let me stay at their house when I visit). Also, Tony and I stay up way too late and talk about the ignorant shit that would otherwise annoy our wives and other friends. Lastly, we almost always get a pizza and eat too much. All of those objectives were accomplished in this little jaunt.
When I can, I stay with Tony and Annie up in Chicago. Usually, their cats end up sleeping on me, because, like all cats, they know if a person is allergic to them. As part of my own little quirky ritual, I buy some chocolates for the Aimones to appease their darker natures (actually, cuz they are always nice enough to let me stay at their house when I visit). Also, Tony and I stay up way too late and talk about the ignorant shit that would otherwise annoy our wives and other friends. Lastly, we almost always get a pizza and eat too much. All of those objectives were accomplished in this little jaunt.
November Colors...
After checking out my sister's myspace page, I liked the fall pictures she had posted, and I told her I would take some pictures on my way to work. I have a very picturesque drive, but I usually don't have the forethought to take pictures on the way. So, unfortunately, I missed the really vibrant color show of the Shawnee Forest in late October, but there are still some pretty cool vistas.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Matilda, We Hardly Knew Ye.....
One morning, not long ago, we saved a little praying mantis from an early frost. It made a home in an abandoned hermit crab cage, ate several crickets and assorted moths and other bugs, and one night, BLAM!! laid an egg case on the inside lip of the cage (can't get good picture of it).
Then, a couple of days later, Matilda could no longer resist the grip of age on her tired exoskeleton, and succumbed to the reaper.
Matilda, rest in peace. In about 6 months, we'll let you know how/if her progeny spring forth.
R.I.P. Matilda, 2008-2008.
Then, a couple of days later, Matilda could no longer resist the grip of age on her tired exoskeleton, and succumbed to the reaper.
Matilda, rest in peace. In about 6 months, we'll let you know how/if her progeny spring forth.
R.I.P. Matilda, 2008-2008.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Parade....
Saturday, November 1, the girls and the boy marched in a parade. The girls were there as part of their girl scout troop, and Carl was there marching in the junior high band.
A New Pet....
About a week ago, in the chilly air of the morning as Carl and the girls were getting ready for school, one of them saw an injured praying mantis in the driveway. It was going to freeze the next day, and no one wanted to see the hurt little mantis end up bird food (how it probably got hurt to begin with) or frozen. So, mom and the kids brought it into Carl's old crab cage (prior home to several hermit crabs, all of whom had went the way of the dinosaur).
The mantis survived the day, and the injured spot, on its abdomen, which was oozing green goo, had begun to heal, and was now a crusty black spot. I'm no entymologist, but this looked like a positive thing.
Next, a debate loomed over whether it was a he or a she. Lara was convinced it was a she, Carl thought it was a he, and I thought that it was probably female, although it was an awfully small one. Its abdomen was pretty large for its size though, and this is the time of year that egg cases are deposited....
Which is exactly what happened after the first full night in her new digs. So, we named her Matilda, and she has been eating pretty healthily for the last few days. We have fed her crickets, mosquito hawks, grubs, moths, and about any other bug we could catch.
Now, isn't it strange, that we can feel compassion for an injured praying mantis and with glee collect an assortment of hapless, no less innocent creatures, to be her food? You don't see us getting another cage out for the abandoned stink bug, do you? People are odd like that.
Matilda, our latest, albeit temporary, addition:
The mantis survived the day, and the injured spot, on its abdomen, which was oozing green goo, had begun to heal, and was now a crusty black spot. I'm no entymologist, but this looked like a positive thing.
Next, a debate loomed over whether it was a he or a she. Lara was convinced it was a she, Carl thought it was a he, and I thought that it was probably female, although it was an awfully small one. Its abdomen was pretty large for its size though, and this is the time of year that egg cases are deposited....
Which is exactly what happened after the first full night in her new digs. So, we named her Matilda, and she has been eating pretty healthily for the last few days. We have fed her crickets, mosquito hawks, grubs, moths, and about any other bug we could catch.
Now, isn't it strange, that we can feel compassion for an injured praying mantis and with glee collect an assortment of hapless, no less innocent creatures, to be her food? You don't see us getting another cage out for the abandoned stink bug, do you? People are odd like that.
Matilda, our latest, albeit temporary, addition:
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Mammoth Cave Vacation, October, 2008
Here is the first of two slideshows from our recent trip to Mammoth Cave, Kentucky. We went there on the long weekend of October 10th. We met our good friends the Aimones at our campsite. We had a wonderful time, although our Chicago pals weren't expecting to land in a dry county, the lushes!
We have had the great fun of camping with them and with other friends we have made from our college days several times over the years.
On the first day at the national park, we went on the historic tour of Mammoth Cave.
On day 2, we made a side trip to one of the many fun parks which have sprung up all around Mammoth Cave. They had horseback riding, go karts, a huge "alpine" sled ride, rock climbing wall, bumper cars, and a bungie swing, to name a few.
There is a much longer story here, but the Reader's Digest version is that at the fun park, Katie had a freak out right before she and Mom were going to ride horses on the trail, and after about an hour, they made it back, angry and crying (you guess which was which)with no horseback ride. While they did that, Carl and Tony went up the ski lift to the top of a huge hill and rode down a concrete track on a modified bobsled. While that happened, Maggie and Isa tried the bungie jump, the rock climbing tower, and bumper cars. Bruno and Annie played miniature golf. When Carl came back, we took a turn on the go karts, and during a tight race, Carl wiped out, and at the end, was not able to stop his kart, and nearly took out the guy running the attraction. He jumped like he saw a rattlesnake.
Then, we broke for lunch, and Carl and Tony decided to go up the alpine hill once more. About 20 minutes later, they came back, with Carl sporting some serious scrapes on his shoulder, arm, wrist, leg and knee. He tumbled out of the sled as he rocketed down the hill, and frankly, we were all lucky one or two of us weren't hurt badly.
Then, we made it to the cave, and went on the New Entrance Tour, which unlike the Historic Tour, is a "wet" cave, with beautiful features, stalactites and stalagmites, and deep, deep voids. It was magnificent.
Of course, the pictures don't do the cave, or the fun we had with our friends, justice.
We have had the great fun of camping with them and with other friends we have made from our college days several times over the years.
On the first day at the national park, we went on the historic tour of Mammoth Cave.
On day 2, we made a side trip to one of the many fun parks which have sprung up all around Mammoth Cave. They had horseback riding, go karts, a huge "alpine" sled ride, rock climbing wall, bumper cars, and a bungie swing, to name a few.
There is a much longer story here, but the Reader's Digest version is that at the fun park, Katie had a freak out right before she and Mom were going to ride horses on the trail, and after about an hour, they made it back, angry and crying (you guess which was which)with no horseback ride. While they did that, Carl and Tony went up the ski lift to the top of a huge hill and rode down a concrete track on a modified bobsled. While that happened, Maggie and Isa tried the bungie jump, the rock climbing tower, and bumper cars. Bruno and Annie played miniature golf. When Carl came back, we took a turn on the go karts, and during a tight race, Carl wiped out, and at the end, was not able to stop his kart, and nearly took out the guy running the attraction. He jumped like he saw a rattlesnake.
Then, we broke for lunch, and Carl and Tony decided to go up the alpine hill once more. About 20 minutes later, they came back, with Carl sporting some serious scrapes on his shoulder, arm, wrist, leg and knee. He tumbled out of the sled as he rocketed down the hill, and frankly, we were all lucky one or two of us weren't hurt badly.
Then, we made it to the cave, and went on the New Entrance Tour, which unlike the Historic Tour, is a "wet" cave, with beautiful features, stalactites and stalagmites, and deep, deep voids. It was magnificent.
Of course, the pictures don't do the cave, or the fun we had with our friends, justice.
Lara Turns...OLD!!!
For awhile, these posts will be out of order, chronologically, until I get some of the recent events put up on the blog. Lala's birthday was a small affair this year. I rarely get to take pictures of her, however, in the last month or two, she has relented, and I've been able to take some photos.
Get your violins out, I might as well say it now, our family has some tough times ahead of it. Unless our governor gets his head out from inside his own ass where it has been planted for some time, it is possible (read as looming large like a mushroom cloud on our horizon) that she will be laid off. It is possible that she will not only lose her job, but that her position, among many others around the state, will be eliminated(that is, no job to come back to even if she were laid off). This has generally put a damper on things like birthdays and such, and has added so much stress to her already stressful life (she puts up with me), that I really stand in awe of her composure. I mean, I am composed in this situation, but that is only because I choose to ignore the dire consequences which might face us. She is staring them straight in the face and still is hanging in there.
So, here was Lara's understated, but love and happiness filled, birthday, on October 1st:
Get your violins out, I might as well say it now, our family has some tough times ahead of it. Unless our governor gets his head out from inside his own ass where it has been planted for some time, it is possible (read as looming large like a mushroom cloud on our horizon) that she will be laid off. It is possible that she will not only lose her job, but that her position, among many others around the state, will be eliminated(that is, no job to come back to even if she were laid off). This has generally put a damper on things like birthdays and such, and has added so much stress to her already stressful life (she puts up with me), that I really stand in awe of her composure. I mean, I am composed in this situation, but that is only because I choose to ignore the dire consequences which might face us. She is staring them straight in the face and still is hanging in there.
So, here was Lara's understated, but love and happiness filled, birthday, on October 1st:
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