Generally speaking, I am fine with mother nature. We get along fairly well and have a solid working relationship. She snows, I shovel. She blows down leaves, I rake them. She rains, I stay inside. We have a pretty decent understanding of one another, and while I'll never chain myself to a tree, I've never arbitrarily sought to chop one down either. My raging environmental liberalism is manifest by recycling at home (which is really attributable to my Oregonian wife), collecting the soda cans at work to make sure they are recycled (which is really attributable to my capitalist greed at the .5 cent refund I can score in Oregon), and owning a fake Christmas tree (again, my lovely Oregonian buddy). However, as of late, mother nature and I are at loggerheads over the two huge trees on my property which provide me much angst from late May through November.
You see, under those pretty green leaves and cute brown bark exterior hide my evil adversaries which lives only to torment me. I know what you're thinking, stop whining, they are beautiful. They provide copious shade (which they do), they cut down on my heating and cooling expenses (valid point), and they are recycling CO2 which is invaluable to our environment (I wonder if I could cap and trade their emissions?). Notwithstanding these arguments, I am seriously contemplating hiring this guy to help me out.
Beginning in late Spring, the trees begin to grow these little stick thingies (yes, stick thingies is the official botanist term for them) which serve as the petri dishes for the trillions of yellow pollen thingies that grow on them. In late May, early June, the trees (which I shall refer to hereafter as the evil duo of Darth Vader and Dr. Evil) begin shedding their yellow pollen fuzzies on to my front yard, back yard, drive way, patio, garden, bushes, mulch, cars, etc. I am then required to go out and sweep up all the pollen fuzzies while Darth and Dr. Evil laugh at me while dropping even more yellow fuzzies on my head while I sweep. Currently, Darth and Dr. Evil are in the drop the fuzzies mode with millions more still in the trees; its as if this year they decided to produce a 3-yr food storage of yellow fuzzies but will still drop them on my yard all at once.
Once the yellow fuzzies are gone, then the stick thingies they grew on begin to fall off and my front yard, back yard, drive way, patio, garden, bushes, mulch, cars, etc. are covered with little sticks which can't really be swept or mowed but have to be raked. Nothing like spending a 100-degree July afternoon raking sticks. Once all the sticks are gone, I have about an 8-week respite until Darth and Dr. Evil lose their leaves. If there's one thing Darth and Dr. Evil produce more of than yellow pollen thingies, its leaves. I mean heaven forbid I have trees on my property that only produce one leaf per branch or that lose their leaves in one fell swoop. No, I've got the leisurely trees that slowly shed their leaves like a balding man over a period of 50-yrs. So from September through November I'm raking leaves.
I wish there were spotted owls in these trees to make me feel guilty at the prospect of cutting them down. I wish they were the right size to build a tree-house in so that Afton could eventually play in Darth and Dr. Evil. But no, they are just mean-spirited vindictive trees who take pleasure in my suffering. Every time I seriously contemplate cutting them down, I picture them coming after me to kill me like these fellas from the Lord of the Rings movies.
Anyway, I have resigned myself to the fact that Darth and Dr. Evil will continue to be a part of my life until we move. However, if anyone out there is interested in purchasing a beautiful 1930 brick tudor Sugarhouse home with two beautifully established shade trees, let me know.
Unfortunately for Gabby, she doesn't get to be the cat. 
But, Gabby can hold her own. She knows places she can go that Afton can't quite follow... 
like under the bed. We're just waiting to see what happens when Afton finally learns to walk. It might just take their game to a whole new level.
and, sweet diva of mine, this...
(Here I am brushing birdseed out of Tony's hair.)
Generally speaking, I am fine with mother nature. We get along fairly well and have a solid working relationship. She snows, I shovel. She blows down leaves, I rake them. She rains, I stay inside. We have a pretty decent understanding of one another, and while I'll never chain myself to a tree, I've never arbitrarily sought to chop one down either. My raging environmental liberalism is manifest by recycling at home (which is really attributable to my Oregonian wife), collecting the soda cans at work to make sure they are recycled (which is really attributable to my capitalist greed at the .5 cent refund I can score in Oregon), and owning a fake Christmas tree (again, my lovely Oregonian buddy). However, as of late, mother nature and I are at loggerheads over the two huge trees on my property which provide me much angst from late May through November.
Beginning in late Spring, the trees begin to grow these little stick thingies (yes, stick thingies is the official botanist term for them) which serve as the petri dishes for the trillions of yellow pollen thingies that grow on them. In late May, early June, the trees (which I shall refer to hereafter as the evil duo of Darth Vader and Dr. Evil) begin shedding their yellow pollen fuzzies on to my front yard, back yard, drive way, patio, garden, bushes, mulch, cars, etc. I am then required to go out and sweep up all the pollen fuzzies while Darth and Dr. Evil laugh at me while dropping even more yellow fuzzies on my head while I sweep. Currently, Darth and Dr. Evil are in the drop the fuzzies mode with millions more still in the trees; its as if this year they decided to produce a 3-yr food storage of yellow fuzzies but will still drop them on my yard all at once. 
Anyway, I have resigned myself to the fact that Darth and Dr. Evil will continue to be a part of my life until we move. However, if anyone out there is interested in purchasing a beautiful 1930 brick tudor Sugarhouse home with two beautifully established shade trees, let me know. 
Will she take an afternoon nap on a given day? Who knows. Will she sleep until 6:30 a.m.? Maybe, maybe not. Will she have a good day or be a crab? Your guess is as good as mine. But, will she stuff her cheeks like a chipmunk with the little green florets and pound her high chair tray for more? Without a doubt. 
Not only did I get a surprise visit from my handsome brother this past weekend, but my sister-in-law came with my niece and nephew. After our whirlwind Saturday evening of playtime, dinner, playtime, bath-time, story-time, bottles, and bedtime, Uncle Jonah commented, "I'm just glad I never had to be alone with all three of them at the same time..." Tony thinks I'm nuts because I have a certain fondness for the craziness. Family = borderline mass pandemonium -- and that's just fine with me. 
Afton liked the extra attention (and staying up past bedtime). 
The strangest part was how they just swarmed. They'd start out in one room...
and eventually spread their mess, I mean way, to another room. 
But tender is toddler love. Whatever squabbles may arise are soothed through the sharing of banana-flavored puffs.
