Snow Shoes in Jello

We've been here six days, but it still doesn't feel like we've quite landed...

I realized that while I am navigating familiar and comfortable ground, that's not quite true for the kids. Valerie seems to remember a lot of things, but it's hard to gauge how clearly, and what the emotional dimension of the memories are for her. She feels thing intensely to begin with, so I watch her staring with her solemn little face out the window as we drive places and wonder what she is feeling. For Gabriel, it's all a new adventure. He's meeting the experience with a sense of play and adventure, but is also at that volatile 2-year-old stage where he'll instantly flip over into whining limp-noodle mode if he's a little tired or hungry. We've been doing fun things every day but they've also been more tired than usual - and of course recovering from jet lag (although I think we're just about back to normal on that front).

Grammy and Grandpa's house is a paradise of toys and books. We've been made very comfortable in the family room on our own king-size mattress, with space for a train set given to us by a friend whose kids have outgrown it, and our little toddler table with two matching chairs is the perfect place for eating meals or playing with play-dough.

I have a varied range of things I need to attend to; while I'm starting to chip away at my list, I often feel like I'm running as fast as I can through a pool filled with Jello. With snow-shoes on. (I stole that line from one of my elementary school yearbooks, but that's exactly what it feels like.) So much of my energy and attention is soaked up by the kids, which is exactly as it should be. I just wish there were two of me sometimes!

I'll post some photos once Terry gets here with my lap-top.

better

All my ailments seem to be healing, and there have been no more regurgitation incidents (aside from the incidental spit-ups). I decided to hire my babysitters as occasional errand girls as well, which in less than two hours wiped 5 things off my to-do list. T. is back in town and we're getting our work done. And have I mentioned the weather is gorgeous?

I have, though, lost a knitting needle - a long metal #1 DPN - and so am stymied for sock knitting at the moment. Sock knitting is one of those things I can fit into the corners of my life and get the satisfaction of seeing something material concretely produced. So instead I've been folding origami birds for another mobile for V.

I promise, I promise, pictures forthcoming - once I finish writing an essay due tonight.

I should be taking a nap...

Just a note to let y'all know I'm back in NY safely; didn't sleep much on the bus, so need to catch a few Zs before class tonight.

It was a pretty wild weekend! My presentation at the conference went well, despite having to completely shift my approach at the last minute when I realized that the audience had zero background in social theory. The other people on my panel included the Human Rescources director for Cargill (poultry plant), a woman who works for Homeland Security, and two computer science guys who happen to be highly educated South Americans teaching Spanish at the university pontificating about how Spanglish is a "degeneration" of Spanish (like Spanish wasn't a "degenerate" version of Latin! Come on!) So, just a little bizarre.

Then Friday night I had the *lovely* experience of going to a meeting of the Minute Men Civil Defense League, who were trying to help a group of locals start their own grassroots movement to "save the Valley" from immigration. The local activists had been, well, active, though, and the crowd was probably 70% pro-immigrant. Terry and I agreed that the discourse from the anti-immigrant group was basically vicious racism disguised under a rhetoric of rationality and even humanitarian concerns. I'm going to write at least 2 course papers on this so it was very interesting, but at the same time what sticks with me most was afterwards I saw my good friend from Guatemala, a nurse and mother of 2 college students who gives of herself constantly for others. I asked her "how are you?" and she said, "My heart hurts."

Is it even possible?

Somebody take my temperature! I'm actually...tired of knitting...

Not Rats

I woke up this morning and there was snow on the ground! (And yes, it was still technically morning!)

I happily pulled out my new boots that I ordered online - it was my incentive for finishing the NSF application. You have to cheer yourself on somehow. They are warm, comfortable, good treads, and I think they look cool (though maybe not with the black sweatpants stuffed in).

But the really big story today is what happened to the ceiling (pictured below). Wednesday night I heard an ominous scuttling in the drop ceiling over the kitchen. "It has to be squirrels - it has to be squirrels" I kept telling myself. I had rats in my house in Bolivia back in the day and they were NOT FUN. They got into my yarn, they dragged a whole DRESS off the hanger and half of it into their hole. When I pulled it out it was gnawed on and unwearable. The one night that a cat actually came around it ended up dead. I don't know how, but I blame the rats. And this was long after I had stopped putting down poison because the neighbor's dog would get it before the rats did... Anyway, that was in Bolivia and I was not eager for a repeat.

Well, the squirrel myth died when I SAW the unmistakable shape of a rodent crawl sniffing out onto the translucent panel under the fluorescent lights. So I banged on all the ceiling tiles to make it go away and hoped it would just get the picture and GO AWAY.

Inspecting the apartment carefully I found no rat droppings and no chew marks so I knew it hadn't come down in but I figured it was only a matter of time. I called Terry. "Put poison down," he said. Yeah, like that worked so well in Bolivia. I figured I'd have to tell the landlady but I put it off until Friday morning when again the critter(s?) was/were running around above my head.

I was not prepared for her reaction, which was not fear and loathing, but utter joy. "IT'S NESSA!" she cried. Evidently their pet gerbil had escaped Wednesday night and the two daughters had been searching for her and crying for two nights and a day.

Well, the fun didn't stop there. Janet came down and we lifted up a ceiling tile, and sure enough, it was a gerbil. Not a rat (phew). All her toys and favorite foods were brought down to coax her to us but to no avail. She'd get close enough to grab a nut or slice of apple and then POW. Gone. When the girls got home from school they had no luck either. When Terry showed up at about 6:00 we were still at it. Then somebody said, "Why don't we take out a whole row of tiles so she can't run into the back corner again?" Well shucks, why don't we just take out ALL the tiles except the one she's standing on and then we can grab her easily? By golly, it worked! It only took five people and a whole day! Oh yes, and TERRY was the one who actually grabbed her; he did his little happy dance :-). It was short work to put back the tiles and vacuum the carpet. The end.