"Found at the mall"

(In a picture text from my cousin Jay.)

p.s. Let me just add that taking these pistachio pictures makes for some awkward moments. For example, the morning I found a shell at work a co-worker came in and was greeted with me crouching down, essentially pointing my phone at trash on the floor. "What's going on here?" he asked, but I just looked up and said "uhhh...." with an awkward smile, so he moved on. I can only imagine what it might have looked like with Jay taking a picture in the middle of a mall on Thanksgiving weekend. But don't let any of this discourage you if you have a sighting!

Miss Wishy Washy

When I was in the first grade I played the title role in the class play, Miss Wishy Washy. I don't remember what it was about, I just remember I wore an apron and a bandanna over my head. Okay, to be honest I don't even remember that very well, I just know there is a picture at my parents' house of me dressed like that with my friend Becca standing in front of a microphone as the Narrator. I also don't even remember why I decided to tell this story, because that's all I remember and the story is over.

What I really wanted to tell you is that I have the best Grandpa ever because he just came over and helped me clean my apartment. He mopped, to be exact. Yes, I could have done it myself, but he didn't approve of my little mop so he came over with his own mop and did it for me, which was super nice of him.

Okay, this post isn't really about Grandpa mopping my floor, either. It's about how mad I am that my apartment was dirty in the first place. (Let's ignore the fact that I moved in two months ago and I'm behind on this cleaning. I worked for hours scrubbing the bathroom and most of the kitchen when I first moved in, but I didn't get around to mopping the floors. Again, not the point.) The point is that I'm angry I had to clean up years of dust and cat hair that does not belong to me. I did not let the corner behind the refrigerator look like it grew a hairy carpet all over the floor and walls. I did not leave dried cat food under the stove. I did not let dust and cat hair pile up in the old radiators. I hate cats. And I don't like cleaning, but I do it. And I wish the girl who lived here before me would stop by so I could hand her my garbage bag full of her grossness.

What did Della wear?

A few weeks ago at work I found an old voucher for "velocipede fixtures," and I thought to myself, what the heck is a velocipede? I did a little internet research, and among other things I discovered there is a Velocipede Museum in Delaware.

So Josh and I went for a visit.



They had lots of velocipedes and boneshakers and bicycles. (They also had a room with lots of Tigger stuff...not sure about the connection.) And like any good museum, they let you get "hands on," so I sat on a giant velocipede.



The Velocipede Museum happens to be in historic New Castle. I am ashamed to admit that I did not know a single thing about New Castle. It is a great little historic area, like a mini Williamsburg but without the fifty dollar fee or the dressed up interpreters. We visited the Old Court House, which was also the colonial capitol and first state capitol. (Apparently the arc at the top of Delaware was determined by a twelve-mile radius from the cupola of the building.) A nice man gave us our own private tour of the place and taught us all about New Castle and Delaware. That went a little longer than I expected though, so we didn't get to visit other sites, like the Old Dutch House. We did, however, take a stroll through Battery Park and looked across the Delaware River at New Jersey. It was right around there that William Penn first landed in America.



We didn't get to spend very much time there, so I would like to visit again. And I recommend the Velocipede Museum to you all if you happen to find yourself in Delaware. It is small and won't take long to visit, and it's free!

almost like I was there

Today is my Granddad's 86th birthday. That's a lot of birthdays. But he's doing great! And so is my Grandmother. I just spoke with them on the phone a few minutes ago (obviously on the phone, because they're in New Mexico and I'm not) and they were sitting outside at the Bosque Del Apache National Wildlife Refuge in southwestern New Mexico watching thousands and thousands of birds fly around in the sunset. In case you haven't seen one, New Mexico has some of the best sunsets ever. As we talked about work or family or the exact route they drove to get there they would occasionally stop and gasp and tell me about the V formations of birds in front of the full moon or the "one two three four five six seven eight- Eight Cranes!" that just flew right in front of them. At one point Grandmother even held the phone away so I could hear all the squawking geese. It was an exciting moment for them, and I'm glad I got to listen in.

ubiquitous I tell you

This morning I walked into the office and what did I see? A pistachio nut shell! Right there on the floor about five feet from my desk. A single half shell. I took a picture with my camera phone, so excuse the fuzzy-ness.



I also received an email from Jennifer the other day (Hi Jennifer!) saying she had her own pistachio sighting in Scotland. I don't want to hog all the excitement people, so if you have a sighting feel free to report back and share.

jumbler

Only one lady at work wore a costume on Friday, so after her my flame tights and fake tattoo were the most exciting things going on.

I finally purchased some reusable bags for my grocery shopping. Yes, I am way behind on this one.

Today I ran five and a half miles. That is the longest I've run in a very long time. I'm excited to run more, but I'm sad it's dark most of the time I'm not at work. Also, I discovered I kind of like running west on Monument Avenue more than east.

I was just thinking about how the internet is going to make looking up incriminating baby pictures of friends (and enemies) so much easier for the rising generation of children. Good luck with that kids.

I'm liking the book I bought last week- Nick Hornby's Slam. I read this morning sitting in my chair next to the window with a cup of coffee, and it was very nice.

I still love public radio. Today while I ran I listened to a past episode of Wait Wait...Don't Tell Me on my iPod, and when Peter Sagal announced that Garrison Keillor was going to be the guest for "Not My Job" I bit the back of my finger in excitement. No joke.