Entry #60

Entry #60

Wednesday, April 25

9:45 a.m. Seems the critters are out and about and climbing the walls. Last night Aidan spotted something resting along one of the window panes. After taking a closer look, he saw that it was a bright green frog! The frog wasn’t even fazed when I took a photo, obviously a mellow amphibian. The other day I saw a lizard crawling along the window screen from my second-floor office—that's a long way up for an animal that's only six inches long. 


This morning we saw a bright green lizard, a Green Anole, bobbing up and down along the fence ("doing push ups"), its red chin flaring—I think he was showing off for the ladies.

On my morning walk with Izzie today, I saw a centipede meandering up the side of a building. Its legs were so fine, they looked like tiny hairs moving in unison. About five minutes into our walk, I noticed a large turtle huddled in its shell in the middle of the sidewalk. How it got there remains a mystery. It would've been quite a haul to scuttle all the way there.


When I picked it up, a bunch of water poured out, which made me wonder how long the turtle had been there, and if it was still alive. After our experience with the box turtle in the backyard, I figured this wayward turtle was probably fine but just hiding. I'd probably do the same.

What surprised me most about this experience was that Izzie didn’t run after this turtle or even bark at it. I held the turtle in two hands, causing me to let go of the leash. Izzie just stayed with me until I set the turtle down, back by the river. Ordinarily, she'd plunge right into the mucky water, but this time she miraculously abstained. 


Aside from seeing a Great Blue Heron in flight, we didn’t spot any other remarkable fauna for the remainder of the walk. We did, however, see a number of lawn signs, all Republican, for various positions, including “Constable.” I can’t help but think of Mary Poppins and the line, “Thank you, Constable,” when the two children in the movie are returned home after chasing their kites.

“In Texas, contrary to popular folklore, Constables were the first Law Enforcement Officers...[Their] sole mission [in the 1820s] was to act as the defense force for the new colony, repelling Indian incursions and large bands of bandits and cattle rustlers...When Texas was a Republic, the powers of the Constables were drafted into the constitution, and when Texas joined the Union. The Constable’s authority and duties and have remained the same and have not changed much over the years.” —www.epcounty.com/constables/history.htm

If only the Constables around here were like the nice, mustachioed bobby in the movie. One of the people running for office in The Woodlands has the surname “Nutt.” What a great last name for a politician! I wonder if he refers to his residence as the Nutt House.


Turns out there already is an actual place with this name, The Nutt House Hotel, in Granbury, Texas. 

Built of hand-hewn stone in 1893 by David Lee Nutt, the Nutt House occupies the old site of a mercantile store constructed on logs. It was here that two of the Nutt brothers, Jake and Jesse, both of whom were blind from early childhood, began operating their general store in 1866. David Lee was the younger brother of Jake and Jesse and served as their "eyes" in the mercantile store from the time he was 12.  In 1879 David Lee Nutt and his wife built a house that doubled as a hotel since the suppliers of Nutt's merchandise had no other place to spend the night when visiting Granbury on business. In 1968 the Texas State Historical Society awarded the Nutt House its medallion, naming it a historical and cultural landmark.(www.nutt-hotel.com/nh_history.html)

3:00 p.m. I just returned from a whopping three hours at the dentist’s office. The hygenist was obviously very thorough. Plus, I had to wait to get all kinds of newfangled X-rays taken and have a bunch of gooey purple cement shoved in my mouth for nightguard impressions. Still, that’s a huge chunk o’ time.

The dentist’s office was a far cry from the sterile, run-of-the-mill varieties. While the building itself is located at Market Square, a new shopping district designed to look like a quaint pedestrian plaza, the interior of the dentist’s office has more of a warehouse aesthetic—brick walls, exposed ceiling ducts, distressed cement floors, and an open floor plan. What’s interesting about this look is that buildings that authentically look like this (such as the Ice House near Levi’s Plaza in SF) are often the result of deconstruction, while this place was carefully constructed to appear this way.

As with many modern dental offices, there’s a small TV screen in each patient area. Mine was programmed with a series of photographs taken by the dentist on his trip to Pompeii. Because I was there for quite awhile, I saw countless iterations of Pompeii’s excavated ruins, as well as other images of Roman architecture—all in thick, carved stone.

It was odd to watch images of these ancient ruins while sitting in Market Square, where instead of ashes trickling down from Mt. Vesuvius, there are occasional "styrofoam flurries" from builders carving faux-stucco trim at shopping plazas. The dentist certainly made a valiant effort to reproduce a feeling of solidity in his expansive office. Real brick, real cement—it's as solid as anything I've seen here. The window trim, however, was not solid wood, but laminate strips. I wish I hadn't noticed.

I spoke with the dental hygeniest for a few minutes while she prepped for cleaning. She told me that she came here to get away from the snow. I asked her how she likes it here and she said, “Well, the living is easy, but it's not easy living here." Having grown up in Upstate, New York, she believes that she's "too blunt" in the way she communicates, but said, "I'd rather be honest. I've never been lied to more than the first year I was here. People smile to your face, go to church on Sundays, then talk behind your back. I really had a hard time with this..."

To my great surprise, the dentist, a native of Waco, Texas, expressed similar sentiments. “The Woodlands isn’t like other parts of Texas. It isn’t ‘real’ here, though it was much different when [my family] first came here in ’97. There was no mall, there were bigger lots. Now all the trees are being torn down.” 


The dentist, whose practice is obviously thriving, said that he stays here because he’s happy with his kids' school, which they've attended since kindergarten. Plus, he spends half his time in Fredericksburg, where he has a 50-acre farm. "That's where I feel most at home," he said.


When I was finally done with my marathon dental visit, I ran back to the car worried about getting a ticket. Instead I got a glossy green card that read, “Oops! Your parking meter has expired. The 25¢ you pay for curb-side parking helps fund local charities and community events here at Market Street. So, please remember to drop a quarter in the meter. Thanks!” While digging for change, a passerby told me, “Paying the meter is optional here.” Wow. So this is what it’s like to live on The Truman Show. Sure beats getting slammed with a $45 ticket.

Before getting into the car, a twenty-something woman on the cell phone breezed past me, talking loudly on her cell phone, “I’m on my break, so I’m gonna go tan. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

11:00 p.m. Noah and David just got home from The Black Keys concert—Noah’s first official rock concert. He tried to share footage from the concert, but having gotten “mosh pit” seating (standing?), the volume was so loud, it sounded like static. Still, I could see how close they got to those rockin’ Akron boys. I’d wanted to go, but Aidan’s still a bit young to be moshin’ on a school night.

Thursday, April 26

2:00 p.m. When I got the kids up this morning, I took a quick look at the weather forecast, since we were all going on a field trip today. The projected high was 95 degrees with 94 percent humidity.

I ended up driving five boys (including my two) to the wrong destination. I was so pleased that I knew where the boat dock was, having taken rowing lessons there, that I didn’t bother following the teacher. Little did I know this wasn’t the place we were supposed to meet. If it were possible to be fired as a parent driver, I would’ve been dismissed on the spot. So much for promising to not embarrass my kids. I’m sure they were mortified having a mom with absolutely no sense of direction.

Thankfully, I managed to find the place (eventually), and not fall in or do anything wildly inappropriate while kayaking. I kept an eye on a few groups of boys who, were racing each other to the very end of the lake. I had the luxury of riding solo, so I almost felt like I was on vacation (aside from helping with the occasional wayward kayak).


Little did we know that the guide did not permit kayaks to venture as far as we did. One teacher paddled our way to inform us that we needed to turn around, but that was after we had reached the very end, with more than a half dozen Great Blue Herons and Snowy Egrets outlining the marshy periphery. 


Apparently this area was riddled with water mocassins, a highly venomous (and potentially lethal) snake that has no qualms about attacking territorial intruders. Ignorance was bliss regarding the snakes, which several kids spotted. Noah said, “It looked like an eel,” then added, “One of them tried to jump in Tal’s boat.” Thank goodness it didn’t succeed.

By the time we got back to the dock, the kids were famished, so everyone inhaled their lunches, while I went out to get some frozen fruit bars—I figured it was the least I could do after my driving snafu. Besides, I figured it would be a welcome refreshment after kayaking in the sun for the two hours.

The kids entertained themselves by cartwheeling and rolling down the grassy hill. They had a total blast doing this, and especially enjoyed the after-effect of walking around with the world spinning. It's the little things in life...

3:00 p.m. I just removed a wasp with a stinger so big, it looked like a jet-pack. After removing this critter with the traditional glass-and-envelope maneuver, I found a “love bug” (one bug attached to another, back-to-back) on our door, and a host of flies buzzing around. I don’t think I’m going to leave the back door open for Izzie any more. Seems The Bug Season has begun full throttle.