How Do You Take Care of a Dinosaur?

[When I assign creative writing stories to my students, I often write one myself.]
[The prompt:] When dad came home from his trip to South America, he brought me a large, yellow, spotted egg that he bought from a street vendor. The vendor told him it was a very special egg. I couldn't wait for it to hatch. Was I ever surprised when it did! I turned to my dad and said, "I might be mistaken, but that sure looks like a dinosaur!" How do you take care of a dinosaur?
[My story:] At first, when the dinosaur was small, I was able to keep it in my bedroom. It would curl up in my dog's old bed and sleep most of the day. The library book I borrowed and the three horns on its head told me it was a triceratops. I knew it would outgrow my room very quickly. It was eating lettuce and grass as fast as we could provide it. Each night, I had to sneak it outside for a walk.
The day soon came when its horns brushed the sides of the bedroom door as we went out for our walk. On that day, it moved into a large shed that my dad had built in the backyard. I took the old dog bed out so it wouldn't feel lonely. By now the dinosaur was eating twice as much as it had before. We had to arrange with a local landscaping company to collect their cuttings just to keep up with its appetite. Often it would amble out of the yard at night. We had several complaints from our neighbours about mutilated hedges.
Finally, my dad called the zoo. They were astonished but sent someone out immediately to have a look at my dinosaur. The man gaped and stared and spluttered but eventually managed to ask where it had come from. My dad and I told him the story of the street vendor and the egg. I told him how I'd cared for it since it had hatched. The man from the zoo said he'd see what he could do for us.
Fortunately, the man was able to help us. The zoo had a large empty enclosure, and my dinosaur went to live there. We sent the old dog bed with it so it wouldn't forget us. The enclosure is large enough for my dinosaur to wander at will, and there are many tasty hedges for it to munch. The zoo veterinarian tells me my dinosaur is a boy. I go every Saturday to visit him, and I do think he remembers me.

Where I've Been...

Wow! I hadn't realized it had been so long since I last posted! In April, I joined a website called Dragon Cave and I have been spending a lot of my online time at the Forums there. If you'd care to check it out, it's http://dragcave.net/user/Lagie and from there you can link to the Forums. At the Cave, you can adopt and raise virtual dragons. You adopt eggs, and once they hatch, you can name them and breed them (most of them). At the Forums, you can join in many discussions and games. If you come and join us there, you'll understand how I managed to neglect this for so long!

Nassau Driving

Nassauvians (people from Nassau) live on an island that is 21 miles long by 7 miles wide. The island itself is called New Providence but most people tend to ignore that fact and just call the whole island Nassau. The Town of Nassau lies a little to the east of centre on the north side of the island.

Tonight, I went to choir practice. I'm house sitting in a place called Sandyport which lies well to the west of town but not extrememly far west. Choir practice was at a church at the eastern side of the centre of town. I was surprised by the number of people who were surprised that I had drive 'so far' to come to practice.

Far in Nassau is measured by asking yourself, "Do I need to drive through town to go there?" If the answer is yes, then it's far. If you live east and someone out west invites you over, you need to drive through town. Some Nassauvians won't accept the invitation. Ditto for people who live west being invited somewhere to the east.

Town can add thirty minutes or more to your trip, depending upon the time of day at which you are driving. All the jitneys, ALL the jitneys (the local buses) have their starting/ending points in town. Cruise ships arrive in town. School kids go to town when school is dismissed. Town is a very busy place.

I am a Nassauvian, by birth, by paternal lineage, by current residence. My driving habits are still measured by Canadian distances. 21 miles is nothing when you're used to driving long stretches of highway with fields or mountains around you. In a day, I have been known to put close to 50 miles on my car, in Nassau, usually having passed through town twice. Going out for an evening to one end of the island or the other doesn't faze me. Getting stuck in after school traffic is something I try to avoid whenever possible, but it still doesn't stop me from driving. I hope that town will never come between me and the things I want to do.

P. S. I want a Puma! I wonder how it would work in Nassau!http://edition.cnn.com/video/#/video/business/2009/04/07/dcl.valdesdapena.puma.car.cnn

P. P. S. The photo credit for this one belongs to my cousin, Elena!

Winter

I am writing this post from Aurora, Ontario, Canada. Normally I would be in Nassau, Bahamas, but I find myself unexpectedly in the middle of a Canadian winter.

In Nassau, Bahamians think it's cold when the temperature goes down to 60 degrees F., and I laugh at the black Bahamians bundled in their ski jackets, toques and mittens. In Aurora, I would be thrilled if the temperature were to go up to 60 degrees. Right now, it's about 12 degrees, and I feel silly bundled up in my layers to protect against the cold.

I arrived in Aurora in the midst of a snowstorm that didn't stop until more than 24 hours after my arrival. I had forgotten how beautiful snow can be. I bundled up and went out walking. The snow was deep and fluffy, and virtually untouched in many places I walked. Several days later, the temperature dropped. I went walking in the same area. I had forgotten how cold snow could be. Now it was crunchy instead of fluffy. There was a grating sound each time I stepped. Where it had been walked on, the snow had turned to ice. I have to walk head down so as to see where I am putting my feet. If I walk head up, it's all too easy to slip. Aurora has more chiropractor's offices than anywhere else I have ever been.

If I walk head up, I can see ice in another place. On the eaves of the houses, icicles have been forming. I am reminded that snow was once water, and if you shine the sun on it, it melts, even at 12 degrees F. I had forgotten how beautiful icicles can be.

I have been sending photos to friends and family in Nassau. Those who don't know why I'm here think I'm crazy to be here at all. Who would choose to go to Canada in the winter? Those who know why I'm here are very sympathetic and try to reassure me that it's cold at home too. I'd probably find it chilly even if I were there. I agree, and then point out that here the insides of houses are warm. In Nassau, the houses aren't made for that kind of cold. I wonder if next winter in Nassau, I, too. will complain when it goes down to 60 degress F. I have asked my friends to remind me of this experience the next time I start complaining about Nassau.

White Herons

I think of herons as solitary birds. Tonight I looked up from the table at which I was sitting, and there in the tree ahead of me were twelve of them! They stayed for quite a while, as did I, going outside and sitting in a chair simply to look at them. The resident mockingbird sang his end-of-day song, the breeze occasionally set the chimes to ringing, and the herons sat. A short while later, one took off and the rest followed.

Doctor Who Music Video

I found this video on You Tube. The music is from Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog. Maggi137ra has done an excellent job in piecing together clips that fit with the music. I particularly like the split screen sequence during the duet in the song. I hope you enjoy this too.
If you're browsing around You Tube and you're a Sarah Jane Smith/Tom Baker fan like me, check out the sequence of episode montages by Rosanna6250!

Bragging About Bacon

Sunday is the saltiest day of my week.

On Sunday, I have breakfast at my aunt's house. I am the official bacon cooker. From 9:30 on, till it's time to eat, I cook bacon. One pack, two packs, most often three packs, sometimes four packs. I cook bacon, I smell bacon, I taste bacon, I smell of bacon. No matter how much I cook, there is rarely any left. The secret to better bacon? Don't toss the fat! The first batch is the hardest to control, but each subsequent batch cooks in the fat of the previous one(s), essentially deep-frying it. It's hard to burn deep-fried bacon, and it comes out nice and crisp.

The salt is in the bacon, and by the end of breakfast the bacon is in me. Very tasty!