Feeding Squirrels On My Way To Work

Saber es poder.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

When I tell people (especially people who have never experienced yoga) that I practice yoga, a typical comment is: "Wow! You must be really flexible." I don't mind that comment at all, but for me, yoga is much more mental than physical. Yes, I am twisting my body into poses it might not use at work, and often those poses are a physical challenge, but it is concentration and awareness of my body's alignment that helps me achieve those poses - more than physical strength.

Yesterday evening, we were doing Parivrtta Trikonasana (Revolved Triangle Pose), and I just couldn't figure it out. Like a puzzle with one piece at the wrong angle, I just couldn't make it come together. My hips were not in alignment, and I would change the position of my feet, or the twist of my back, or the angle of my legs - but it just didn't feel right. Lisa was working with another student, and I couldn't catch her eye, and then it was time to move on to the next asana. It threw off my concentration for the next few asanas. Yoga is, for me, a mental activity.

After class, I talked with a fellow student about what we're going to do when our Friday evening class goes away. She had been going to the Friday class longer than I have. Like me, the time and date were perfect for her. Like me, she has a few classes in mind, but each choice feels like a compromise. I don't know what I'm going to do. With our new sugar glider on the way, my choices become even more limited.

Thursday, December 07, 2006

I watched Miracle on 34th Street last night on American Movie Classics. It was the first time I had ever seen that movie from beginning to end. (It was, until last night, another one of those movies I'd always heard of but had never seen.) Sure, it's corny and overly-sentimentalized, but what for it is, it's a rather good movie. It has its moments. Besides, there's at least one non-Caucasian person in it. He works at The Post Office.

Then, somewhere, well into the story, AMC informed me that I was watching the "colorized" version, and that the original black & white format would be show immediately afterwards. I felt betrayed.

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

At work, early this morning, Phillip emailed a link to me. The link led me to a classified ad for two male sugar gliders - twin joeys - for sale by a woman in Sultan. The joeys, the ad said, would be old enough to sell on December 15, either as a pair or singularly. I was, at first, a little skeptical. Who was this woman? What was this web site I had never heard of? That skepticism didn't last long at all, once I remembered that this was almost exactly how we found Gladys - except that with Gladys, it had been a classified ad in the back of a magazine we had never heard of.

After an email conversation, Phillip and I decided to contact the breeder. Actually, Phillip had decided long before I had, and had been waiting for me to come around. I emailed the breeder, told her that we were very interested in both of the joeys, and told her about our three sugar gliders (as evidence that we are experienced in caring for sugar gliders). She emailed me back promptly, and said that one of the joeys had already been promised - would we still be interested in the other one? After checking with Phillip, I told her yes, we are very interested.

My morning in the slow clinic ended, I went to lunch, and then started work in the busy clinic. I checked my email. The breeder had replied, asking what we plan on feeding the sugar glider, what size cage we have, informing us that she will require a deposit, and asking us to call her. I emailed Phillip, and asked him to call the breeder as soon as he gets home, since I suspected that I would be too busy to call from work, and since Phillip would be home before me.

When I got home, Phillip reported the conversation to me. He and the breeder had compared sugar glider diets and habits. She had given us instructions on what to feed the young joey, and made us promise to stick to the diet until it gets a certain age. That impressed me a lot. She could have been like the breeder who sold us Gladys, who exchanged a product for money and did not look back. I regret my earlier skepticism.

On December 16, we are driving to Sultan, and then driving home with a new generation of sugar glider.

Just like that, life changes.

Monday, December 04, 2006

Phillip and I had planned on bringing the movie Mouse Hunt with us when we went to the ocean last October. We don't own a copy of the movie, and The Seattle Public Library has only four copies, and all of them on VHS tape. The format was perfect, though, since the cabins at Shakti Cove each have a VHS player, but not a DVD player. The idea came to us too late, and although I put the movie on hold at the library a few weeks before our ocean trip, it arrived to us just last Monday. We watched it last night.

Phillip and I both like the movie Mouse Hunt very much. It also brings a found memory to us. It was because of that movie that when Squeak would misbehave (as she often did), one of us would usually call out "Quick! What's Fidel Castro's address?"

Phillip and I still talk about our three sugar gliders: Gladden, Gladys, and Squeak. Watching that movie last night had us laughing, but afterwards, it brought bittersweet remembrances of the kids. Phillip commented that he misses them very much. Without really thinking about it beforehand, I replied, "We should get another one." And then Phillip immediately replied, "I've been thinking that same thing." I realized then that I had been thinking it, too.

Suddenly, we are talking about a sugar glider - or two - entering our lives again. Phillip brought up the idea of adopting siblings. A Google search quickly located a breeder/shelter in Seattle that seems reputable. They have a detailed adoption process that assures that people who adopt a sugar glider - or two - know what they're doing.

This non-profit company we've located doesn't have any sugar gliders for adoption at the moment, so it may be a while before we are a sugar glider family again.

Friday, December 01, 2006

So, it's official. The Friday evening yoga class is going away at the end of this session. Lisa gave us three reasons for the schedule change: the class has always been small, and has become smaller recently; having Fridays open allows the studio to schedule more special events; and Lisa wanted Friday evenings to spend with her family. There are only two more Friday classes left.

After class, Lisa approached me and seemed genuinely concerned that I'll be able to transfer to another class. I told her that I think I should be able to.

(My choice of available level I-II classes is limited to Wednesday evenings or weekends. The times that I've taken yoga classes on the weekend, it just didn't feel right to me. The morning classes Seattle Yoga Arts offers conflict with my work schedule.)

Then Lisa suggested another option to me, and to the other Friday evening regulars: Our class has never been afraid to tackle more advanced asanas. We should be able to handle a level II-III class, she said.

I'm not sure what I'm going to do.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

There are many patients who I see in my clinic on a weekly, or even daily, basis. I get to know them. I listen to them talk about their life and their disease. Then there are patients who I don't see as often. They come in every several months. I've assumed that their disease hadn't developed very far. They often become like long-distance friends to me, and it's a special treat to see their names show up on the schedule.

Late this afternoon, I learned that one of those infrequent patients - a soft-spoken guy who always walked up to my computer at the front desk when he checked in - had recently died. I learned today that sometimes the reason patients don't come in very often is that their disease had progressed farther than they're willing to admit.

During my interview, they told me their would be days like today. Until a cure is found, patients are patients for life. That knowledge doesn't make it much easier.

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

I continue to be a proud member of Flexcar, even though we rarely need to use the service. I continue to be excited by the new developments I read about in the newsletter, even though I wish they'd put less effort into adding useless animations to their web site, and put more effort into making it more compatible. (In other words, it still won't work with Opera.)

I am excited by the newsletter that I found in my inbox this morning. Flexcar has added something they're calling a "Flexpod" just a few blocks from our apartment. What that means in that they've taken over most, if not all, of a parking lot and placed six Flexcars in one central location (in addition to the other Flexcars scattered throughout the neighborhood). One of those six is a subcompact, something new for Flexcar - in this case, a Scion XA.

I'm thinking that I should go to the next Flexcar meeting, thank them for the subcompacts, and complain about the web site.