The Rat

I never mentioned The Rat, did I? Well, I've got a pet rat. We've had her for a bit over a year, but it looks like she's on her way out. R had noticed that she seemed a little clumsy recently, and this morning she presented with a pronounced lean and left-sided weakness. She fell over eating a peanut.

The Rat was originally part of the behavioral experiments done by the IB Biology students at the school where I was teaching, during the downtime at the end of the school year. Most of the rats, mice, and hamsters were taken home by the students in their respective groups, but the teacher made it clear that he would take any of the critters that needed a home after the project. He wound up with seven or eight, and even though he had five animal-loving kids at home, I thought I might adopt one. I'd been checking up on them after school went out, making sure they had enough food and water, and clearly had developed a soft spot for them.

I wound up taking home a black and white one who spent most of her time hanging out in a little woven basket inside her terrarium. R thought we should name her Skunk, after the little skunk-like stripe on her back, but the name never took and she wound up just The Rat.

In the beginning, The Rat was terrified of everything. We'd open the cage and she's freeze. Holding her left her quaking in terror, though she would make prodigious leaps to get back into her cage whenever she could see it. Getting her to take treats from our hand, even while she was safely in her cage, was clearly a major ordeal.

Eventually, we just started leaving her in her cage and handling her as little as possible. We'd give her treats, but mostly we just left her alone. Oddly enough, that seemed to be just what she needed, and she slowly became more confident and adventurous. She stopped shaking uncontrollably when touched and came up to us when we opened the cage door to give her treats. She was no longer contented with just looking out of the holes she had chewed in her cage, and we started waking up in the middle of the night to find her sitting on top of her cage.

In the end, we accepted that she would never be one of those rats who sit on your shoulder or hang out in your pocket. We bought her a three tiered metal cage and were contented to watch her climb around and organize her possessions. We'd put heels of bread and veggie scraps on the top tier of her cage, just to watch her drag them down to the bottom, into the corner where she ate. She would skitter over whenever we were near the cage, in hopes of a peanut.

She was full grown when we got her, so we didn't know how much time she had left. She seems to have enjoyed her retirement. She was an interesting little critter, and has definitely opened the door for future pet rats, once the baby is older and ready.

Filling my brain with knowledge... or something like it

Hmm... This week is week 5 of the two classes I'm taking.

I haven't posted anything in nearly a month.

... Yeah, that pretty much lines up.

So, what have I been doing, you ask? Attending classes, doing homework, and working, mostly. The class with homework is a class on ArcGIS, which will hopefully allow me to progress further in the mapping field beyond CAD-lackey. The class itself has been... well... as a teacher, I feel I could probably give the guy a few pointers. The first couple of class sessions, he just quickly reviewed what we had done for homework, so we wound up getting out pretty early. The third class, however, he realized that he was well into a condensed class and should probably teach us something, so we wound up staying until 10 pm (not expecting to stay that late, I had to quickly walk over to the parking structure at the break and buy another couple hours of parking). Since then, the class has mostly been Death By PowerPoint, though he will occasionally break out the program and actually demonstrate what he is talking about.

The other class I've been taking is a childbirth class. We decided to try the Bradley method, as I had heard several recommendations and am far too self-aware to be able to do Lamaze without laughing. The reality is, for a class that is supposed to be about better childbirth through information, there is a surprisingly large amount of questionable "information" and unverified superstition. So far, it's been about half good information and half voodoo.

A number of things seem to be done right for the wrong reasons, or not explained at all. The Brewer Pregnancy Diet is advocated, though they don't really explain why other than the fact that you need more protein. However, given that protein deficiency is not an issue in the U.S. (far, far from it), I wanted to know why they were so obsessed with protein. As it turns out, it may help prevent preeclampsia, something that I'm definitely in favor of. The teacher also has this obsession with egg. Again, why? My research revealed that Dr. Brewer developed this diet to help poor women in the south, for whom eggs and dairy products were the only affordable protein.

Still, the class hasn't been all bad. We have gotten some useful information, particularly now that we've gotten down to the meat of issues. It has lead us to do a lot of research on our own. Still, from the way some of the people in the class (and the instructor) act, you'd think doctors were never trying to do the best thing for their patients.

Christmas in June

I recently received a package from my sister-in-law. The box was so battered, it felt almost like a stuffed animal. Inside, though, was the best thing a pregnant lady could ask for: hand me downs! The box was stuffed to the gills with baby clothes.

I feel so much more prepared now. At the very least, the baby will have clothes. Now I just need a crib, some diapers...

Speaking of the baby (what else do I do these days?), she's recently learned how to hit both sides of my uterus at once. So now I get hit simultaneously on opposite sides of my stomach. She's also figured out how to turn around in there, which means I get kicked on the opposite side from normal, something I find quite disconcerting.

I think my hopes of a sedate little child like R have now gone out the window. This one is probably going to need a leash.

Working through the backlog

Of late, R and I have been trying to get things done. I think it is the looming presence of our impending loss of free time, but all of the sudden we've been very productive. He's been finishing up games he hadn't finished, we've finally got some pictures on the wall, and I've been doing my best to go through my collection of saved recipes. A couple of nights ago we decided to have pot stickers for dinner, so I decided to look for an appropriately flavored side, eventually settling on superlative sesame noodles.

"What are you making?"
"Sesame noodles."
"So, what do they actually taste like? They always call them something completely different from the predominant flavor."
"I think these might actually taste like sesame. Crazy number of sesame products in there."

Indeed, the noodles did taste of sesame. They were also pleasantly spicy, though I think I might have put in a slight bit more hot chili oil than was strictly required. In any case, they were good unadorned as a side (well, I had a little cucumber on mine), and I imagine they would also make a fine main dish. Definitely glad I kept this recipe around.

In other news, friends of mine from my college band had a baby yesterday. Given that I learned about a couple more on the way when they announced the birth, that will bring it up to six babies from band alumni this year. Apparently it was time to start breeding.

Making myself look stereotypical

I've been eating a lot of pickles lately, but it is not because I'm a crazy pregnant lady. No, I'm placing the blame squarely on the blogosphere for this one. All the fresh vegetables of spring seem to turn food bloggers minds (and stomachs) toward briney vegetables. It's either that or the fact that I've started reading the blogs of Deb and David Lebovitz, two seriously pickle-crazy people. In any case, I've been driving R crazy lately by making the house stink of vinegar, but the results have been seriously delicious.

I suppose I can foist some of the blame on Deb, seeing as two of the three recipes I've made have come from her blog. I've made pickled carrot sticks twice now, once with white wine vinegar and once with cider vinegar. I think I like them a little bit better with the white vinegar, but they're really tasty either way. Since you don't cook the carrots, they retain a nice crunch. (Actually, now that I think of it, none of the recipes call for cooking the vegetables, so they're all crunchy and delicious.) I picked up some peas while at the store yesterday so that I would be able to make picked sugar snap peas, and they certainly have not disappointed. As suggested, they're definitely ready to be eaten after only a day of soaking in brine.

I did get to take advantage of the whole "pregnant women eat crazy food" mythos when I brought a container of quick pickled radishes to work. While delicious, I didn't realized quite how pungent they were, and so for a half hour after I ate the radishes I got to hear anyone who walked by wonder what the horrible smell was. Apparently the combination of ginger and vinegar reminds some people of decomposition, so, while I was excused from blame due to my pregnant status (unlike the time I microwaved salmon), the boss lady still Febrezed my office.