Anthropogenic Eutrophication. Wait, what?

I know I’ve been neglecting my blog since I started university, sorry about that…. All of my kid free time is taken by reading textbooks, watching lectures, completing assignments, running (more on that some other time, but in short, I’m training for a half marathon), and of course, hanging out with Aaron.  But I’m not just going to uni to get a degree that will enable me to have a good job by the time Daniel is at school, I’m studying sustainable agriculture and food security so that I can make a difference.  I want every person in every country to have enough food to eat.  And I don’t mean genetically modified rice and potatoes, or sugar laden processed foods, I mean sustainably farmed, nutrient dense, diverse foods.

What does this have to do with anthropogenic eutrophication? Current agriculture practices are a huge cause of anthropogenic eutrophication, but most people have no idea what that even is.  I know I didn’t until recently.  Everyone knows about densely packed feedlots and mistreated animals, but how many people know about anthropogenic eutrophication?  Seriously, how many of you know about it?

Here is a video I made as an assignment for one of my classes. Now you’ll know what anthropogenic eutrophication is, how it is linked to algal blooms, and why university takes up all my time.

Mouse in the house – Part 2

I was convinced it was just the one mouse (you can read part 1 here).  I knew when and where the little bugger entered the house.  I set a mouse trap baited with delicious peanut butter behind the washing machine before I went to bed the night we saw the mouse.  I had no idea where it was at the time, still under the couch, back behind the shelf, in the laundry room, maybe even in my bedroom, but I had to put the trap somewhere safe from kids and a dog.

Rosie’s  dog crate is in the laundry room, and she sleeps there at night, with the laundry room door shut.  Can a mouse fit under a door?  If the mouse was elsewhere in the house, would it be able to flatten itself sufficiently enough to get under a door and into the laundry room?  Would it even want to with a dog in there, despite the fact that the dog was in her crate?  Rosie was rather interested in the area behind the washing machine before I put the trap down though, so Aaron and I decided that perhaps the mouse was back there anyway, and that’s where the trap went.  Best case scenario we caught a mouse, worst case we didn’t.  It was worth a try.

The next morning, I used Daniel’s light up Thomas toy to check behind the washing machine because I couldn’t find a flashlight and the light bulb in the laundry room needs to be changed. I wasn’t actually expecting to find anything so soon, but there it was, on the ground, head squished in a trap.  Good, that’s the end of that.

“What do you want for breakfast, kids?” I asked them after Aaron disposed of the mouse.

“RICE BUBBLES!”

I reached up towards the cereal cupboard near the stove and stopped dead in my tracks.

Standing there silent, I heard a light shuffling in the top of the oven, between the bottom of the burners and the top of the stove.  No way, I must be hearing things.  Or maybe it’s a cockroach….It can’t be….

With a wooden spoon, I pulled a burner up and prodded around under the top of the oven, half expecting to see a mouse darting around inside.  Nothing happened.  No noise, no rustling, no mouse or roach appearance.  Phew.

“Did I tell you there was a little mouse on the counter this morning?” Aaron told me when he got out of the shower.

So I wasn’t imagining it.  There was a mouse in the oven.

I pulled one of the burners up, used a towel to keep it up, and put a trap inside the top of the oven before shutting the blinds and closing all of the bedroom doors to make the house as dark as possible.  Do mice only move around when it’s dark? I don’t know, but it seemed more likely that I’d catch a mouse in the dark than in the light.  I left to drop Daniel off at daycare and Hannah off at school, hoping that in the hour I was gone, I would catch the mouse.

I did.  Except Aaron wasn’t home to dispose of it for me, so I had to do it myself.  I rebaited the trap with peanut butter and stuck it behind the bench top organics bin.  Surely there weren’t any more mice, but better safe than sorry.

The mouse I caught in the stove top

I put one in the garage too, and the washing machine trap was still behind the washing machine.

The next day, another cheeky mouse was in the trap on the kitchen counter behind the organics bin, and another one was in the garage trap.  Ugh, where were they all coming from?

After putting the mice in the bin, I reset the traps and put them back out.  It’s been a few days now and so far so good.  No mice.  Hopefully that means we got them all.

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Copyright 2014 Sheri Thomson

The giant bug

Despite being fairly poor when I was little, we always had horses.  Having horses meant having big bags of grain in the barn.  My mom used to store them them in a small room in the little barn.  We didn’t have electricity in either of the barns so feeding the horses in the winter usually meant blindly plunging a cup or scoop or whatever my mom used at the time into the feed bag.  She wasn’t silly though, she kept the feed bags in thick plastic garbage cans to keep critters out.

My mom defied my theory that all women are secretly scared of the dark.  She’d go out in the pitch black night or morning every single day to feed the horses without so much as a flashlight.  It didn’t seem to bother her.  When I was a teenager and I started feeding the horses before school because mom had to work at ridiculous o’clock in the morning, I always turned the arena lights on, not caring that it was 5 o’clock in the morning and the blaring arena lights probably woke up all the neighbours.  They made me feel safe.

I think I was pretty young when it happened, so I’m not sure if I’m remembering the event, or the story of the event, but either way, I know it happened.  One morning (or maybe night, I was young at the time, so minor details are a bit fuzzy.) my mom went out in the dark to feed the horses.  She hadn’t been out there very long when she came back inside in a slight panic, blood oozing from her hand.

After removing the lid from one of the grain cans, as she did every morning and every night, she stuck her hand in the bin to scoop out some grain.  Except this time, something was lurking in the bin, feasting on the grain after it chewed through the thick plastic.  She had to go to the hospital to get rabies shots, stitches, and who knows what else.  I think it was a gopher, but don’t quote me on that.  My mom will read this (hopefully soon after I post it) and correct any wrongs in the comments, so have a look.

 

A gopher. Image courtesy of National Park Service.

When we first got Rosie, giant bags of puppy food were on special at Pet Barn.  I always like a bargain, so I bought one and put it in the garage, filling the small bag I keep in the house each time it ran out.

Mom getting her hand bitten by a something in the grain bin has always stuck in my memory though, so after I unzip the bag of dog food, I always have a look inside before sticking my hand in there to scoop the food out.

I saw something out of the corner of my eye after I opened the food bag the other night. A big, blackish blob scurrying on the wall.  A stupid, disgusting cockroach.  I rustled the bag of garden soil next to the dog food to scare him out, my foot ready for stomping.

The cockroach ran up from behind the bag, but suddenly, a little furry critter bolted out from behind the bag, seemingly at the speed of light.  It somehow dodged the weights bench, the bicycles, and all the camping gear whilst running faster than I’ve seen anything run before and hid in the corner of the garage.

My heart was beating a mile a minute.  There is a mouse in the garage.  Or maybe a baby rat.  

I lifted the almost empty bag of dog food, finding a pile of crumbs below.  The little bugger chewed it’s way to food.  I should have known better.  I should have had the food bag in a metal garbage can.  I didn’t think a mouse would get in the garage though.  How would it even get in there? It’s not like a barn with lots of open door, a bare earth floor, and wooden made out of chewable wood.  Our house is made of bricks, and the metal garage door goes right down to the ground.

Rosie would love to hunt the mouse, she hunts house crickets all the time.  Maybe she’s just trying to play with them, but her idea of play leads to death and dismemberment, which would obviously take care of the mouse.

“You can’t let her hunt the mouse,”  Aaron told me, “she’s still too sore, and she’s not supposed to run around yet.” Darn it, he was right.  Rosie was spayed only a couple days before and the vet said she had to rest for a week.

Tomorrow though, she is allowed to run around again, so mouse/rat, whatever you are, if you’re still there, watch out: Rosie is coming.

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Holidays

I can’t believe it’s almost Thanksgiving.  Not that we celebrate Thanksgiving over here, but I still do.  I don’t make a turkey because they are pretty expensive to get a whole bird and they always end up being pretty dry anyway.  I just get a chicken and roast it instead.  Chicken goes just fine with cranberry sauce and I’ve perfected the art of roasting a chicken.  It’s only taken me about 5 years.

Pumpkin pie will be made from scratch (as in no can of pumpkin, they don’t sell that here), with a wholemeal pie crust.  Yum….drooling already.  I do love me some pumpkin pie.

Click here to enter

You’d think I now have plenty of time for relaxing, reading, and writing blogs now that I’m finished with university for the year, but I always manage to find plenty of work to do.  Thursday I cleaned out our room, mowed the lawn, mulched some pot plants, and cleaned the toilet, in addition to about 12 other things on my self made to do list for the day.  Yesterday I cleaned out the spare room wrapped all the Christmas presents I have so far, and finished some other secret Christmas business that I can’t tell you about because the recipients read my blog.

I have grand plans to finish my book this summer too, but as yet, I haven’t even looked at it.  I’ve only been working on it since I was pregnant with Daniel.  It is, after all, a pregnancy book.  It’s written, I’m just in the editing and illustration stages, which also take a lot of time.

One day I’ll get there.  One day it will be totally finished and I can put it on Amazon as an ebook.

Anyway, it’s 6am, which means the kids will be bounding out of their room any second, wanting cuddles, gummy vitamins, and breakfast.

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The big 3-0

OMGosh, I’m 30.  THIRTY! How did that happen?  It seems like I was turning 21 last year.  Somehow in that time that went by so fast, I managed to acquire stretch marks, wrinkles, and 9pm bed times.

Aaron was laughing yesterday at the fact that our car has a university parking sticker in the window, and he has L plates (to accompany his learner licence) on his motorbike.  Like we’re 18 again.

I don’t feel old. Maybe I do today, but only because I woke up with a head full of snot and a faucet for a nose. Apart from that, I feel the same as I did yesterday. And the day before. And the day before that.  In fact, I wasn’t nearly as fit in my early 20s as I am now.

When I got up, Hannah was in the kitchen making me birthday breakfast all by herself. Grapes and wilted lettuce. It was a sweet gesture at least.

My actual birthday present isn’t until Saturday.  It’s been planned for months.  Two friends have been plotting with Aaron and Saturday, they will be me up in the morning, and not return me until night time.  I have no idea what we are doing or where we are going.  I only know that I’m supposed to bring a list of things, I get to go out sans kids ALL DAY, and that it cost a lot of money.

Hannah and grandma icing my birthday cake

Hopefully my head cold will have gone away by then because at the moment, I feel like snot could very well burst out of my eye sockets.  Not the best start to my 30s, but it’s all up hill from here 🙂

Cheers to being 30.  I’m sure it’s just as good as being 20.  Just different.  I would have put a photo of me on my birthday, but I’m always the one who takes the photos, so there aren’t any. Sigh.

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Only the best

This blog gets a whole lot of traffic from search engines, and Top Mommy Blogs. But let’s face it, not all posts are created equal. And if these google searchers land on a post that is not as good as my usual posts, they might not want to sit down and stay a while. Not to mention, I have over 3 years worth of posts, and navigating around that much stuff can be a bit hard. So I want to make a page that has a list of all my best posts. I will call it something like “best of” and let the words sit right on top of my Mommy Adventures cartoon banner, next to all of my other pages (like “me,” “Daniel,” “Hannah,” etc.).

My question for you is, of course, which posts do you really, really like? Which posts should be on the page? Please comment!

Thanks, you guys rock.

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!

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Copyright 2012 Sheri Thomson

Pee before racing

5am. Ugh, time to wake up. I’ve been trying to get up at 5am for the last week so I can do some blogging and stuff before everyone gets up. Because by night time when the kids are asleep, I just can’t be bothered.

I got up at 5 about…well…fine, it was once. Humph. I’m still working on it.

But last weekend, we had to get up at 5 for a good reason: It was race day. Every time Aaron runs in a race, Hannah talks about how she wants to go in one and win her own medal. So we entered the Blackmores Sydney Running Festival Family Fun run. 3.5 kilometers of Aaron running with Hannah/carrying her on his shoulders, me pushing Daniel in a pram.

We planned to get there with 15-20 minutes spare before the race started. That was, of course, before we saw the line for the elevator down from the train platform to the ground. I wasn’t the only one pushing a pram. Seems half of Sydney also decided to run the race with their kids in prams. And they all got off the train at the same time as us and needed to get down to the starting line. Sigh.

Me and Hannah on the train, ready for our race. Yeah, I totally wore my tennis skirt. And how cute is Hannah!?

Skirt Sports Women’s Gym Girl Ultra Skirt

I really needed to pee. Ok, I didn’t need to go that bad, but I knew I was about to run 3.5 kilometers, and we all know what happend that one time at the gym.

The bathrooms at the station were blocked off. I guess they didn’t want crazy lines right where people are leaving the ticket gates. That probably wouldn’t have worked so well. But I still wasn’t impressed. I needed to pee before the race darn it.

By the time we finally got out of the train station, it was 3 minutes til race time. We planned to high tail it straight to the back of the queue at the starting line, with a quick stop for me at the smelly, disgusting porta-potties. Or whatever they’re called over here.

Stepping out of the station only got us sucked into the extremely slow moving river of people all making their way to the park near the start line. Come on people, THREE MINUTES! Pick up the pace some! But no, they didn’t. Snails pace. With a giant pram, we had no way to get around the snails. Sigh.

Whatever, I can pee fast. I could just quickly duck to the bathroom and then catch up with Aaron and the kids and start the race.

Then I saw the lines. Sigh. Sure there were about a hundred porta-potties, but there were also like 4 people waiting for each one. Sigh.

“I’ll just have to run without peeing first.” I told Aaron.

“Do you have to go really bad?” he asked me.

“No. I just like to pee before I run.”

“It’s not like you have bladder problems, you’ll be ok.”

“THAT’S EXACTLY WHY I WANT TO PEE FIRST!” You know, just in case.

Bang! The race started. We weren’t even in the start line yet. We hurried as fast as we could and got to the back of the line.

I suppose we needn’t have worried. The line was quite long and until people hit the staring arch, they weren’t running. And half of them weren’t running after that either.

“In a few minutes, group C will join us.” We heard over the loudspeaker.

Oops. We were supposed to be in group C. The group for walkers and prams. Not that we planned to walk, but we did have a pram, so by default, that’s where we were supposed to be. Oh well, we were nearly to the arch over the starting line. Group B people, that we were accidentally in with, were supposed to be people who intended to run. I guess no one told them that. Sigh. More snail pace.

Finally, we rounded the bend onto the Sydney Harbour Bridge, and everyone was able to spread out. And we could start running.

Oh crap. Running with a pram is hard. And we were going uphill. Er….slightly.

Me running with the pram over the harbour bridge

Hannah ran and ran and then ran some more.

Daddy and Hannah running on the Sydney Harbour Bridge

I clenched and clenched and didn’t lose any pee. Phew.

After the bridge there were about 4 photographers waiting to snap everyone and then sell them their photos. Only these slackers were just standing there. They weren’t trying to take photos at all!

“Why aren’t they taking photos!” I yelled across to Aaron. “I want photos of Hannah running in a race! It’s all these moms who will want to buy photos of their kids, not the normal runners!”  I wanted photos that weren’t taken with a crappy $50 point and shoot whilst pushing a pram and running backwards. True story. Any parent whose child is running in their first race is sure to buy the photos. Stupid photographers.

The last photographer must have heard me. He held his digital SLR with the giant long lens up to his face and aimed it directly at Aaron, Hannah, Daniel and me. Or I was stupidly waving while he was focused on someone else. (Turns out he was just pointed at me, with my stupid grin. Aaron was in there too, but Hannah was half cut off. Stupid photographers. Needless to say, we didn’t buy those.)

A little bit later, we crossed the finish line. Not with a very fast time, but with a very happy Hannah, and smiles on all of our faces. Oh, and with no urine in my underpants.

She was so excited to get her medal!

Might as well get our photo with a bear, right?

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Ball in the toilet

The weather has been so nice recently. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. Or making obnoxious noises. Bloody birds. We can wear shorts without being too cold or dripping with sweat. So of course we want to be outside.

We don’t have a yard (or even a balcony), so we invite ourselves to Grandma’s house when we feel like getting our hands dirty. The backyard is filled with all sorts of kids’ things. A slide, cubby house, tricycles, mini trampoline, etc. Not to mention my vegetable garden.

My purple pea plant. It’s so big it grew over it’s support fence. The pea pods are a deep purple colour. Awesome, I know.

The kids also love seeing Grandma (and YaYa, when she’s there) when we visit. Hannah especially. Hannah adores Grandma.

Last time we went, Grandma wasn’t there. No worries, I have a key. We played anyway. I got out Hannah’s tunnel and the kids spent most of their time pushing balls inside the tunnel and giggling.

Melissa & Doug Happy Giddy Tunnel

I got all this stuff before Daniel was born. Hence all the pink and purple…

“Mommy, I have to go poo poo!” Hannah yelled. She clearly needed to go right then, too busy playing to notice or acknowledge the need to go before she really needed to.

At home she’d just let herself into the bathroom. But at Grandma’s house, the door handles tower above her head. She can’t even remotely reach them. I had to go with her.

“Ok, I just have to get Daniel. Just hold it a little longer baby!”

Daniel was in the tunnel. He saw me coming towards him and decided to crawl as fast as he could to the middle, giggling as he went.

“DANIEL! Come on bud, you have to come out now.” He kept going towards the other side. Thinking I could outsmart a 1 year old,  I ran over to the other end of the tunnel to nab him and bring him inside with us. I couldn’t leave him out there by himself. He likes to climb the cement steps that have no fence on the sides and could easily fall face first off the top. I know because when Hannah was little, she did that once. Except there happened to be a wheelbarrow full of weeds right next to the stairs, so she didn’t get hurt.

As I got to the end of the tunnel, he giggled and crawled to the other side again. Did I mention how cheeky my son is?

“Mommy, it’s too late!” Hannah was grabbing her butt through her pants upset that there was something besides her butt to grab. (I’m glad she wasn’t grabbing inside her pants….)

“Ok baby, I’m just trying to get Daniel, hold the rest in if you can!”

Cheeky boy was still going end to end in the tunnel, giggling all the while. I picked up one end of the tunnel and held it in the air so he couldn’t run around it anymore.

“Ha! Got you!” He tried to escape, but my grip was too strong. I carried him inside with one of the pink balls in his hand.

I looked in Hannah’s underwear. 1 little nugget.

I pulled down her underpants, nugget still inside and put her on the little potty. Daniel was running around at the other end of the bathroom, pulling on all the towels.

I opened the lid of the toilet and brought the underwear over the bowl, shaking to remove the nugget.

“NO DANIEL!!!!”

He came out of nowhere. Cheeky little ninja boy.

I could see the bright pink ball in my peripheral vision, quickly going from chubby baby hand to water in the toilet bowl.

I reached out with the hand that wasn’t holding the underwear in attempt to grab the ball before it went in the toilet.

But it all happened so fast.

I missed.

Just as I reached out with my non-underwear holding hand, the poo nugget fell from the undies, hitting my arm at the same time the ball hit the toilet water.

Sigh.

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Shameless…

So remember my post about what I’d do with a $500 Groupon voucher? Yes, it involved poop. Usually my posts do.

Anyway, I’m a finalist!!! All I need to do to win is some shameless self promotion to you lovely people. Please, please, pretty please go here and write ‘Sheri’ in the comment field and fill in your details. That is it. I would LOVE to win!

Thanks for the support everyone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You guys rock. Have I told you that recently? Well you do.

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!

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Go hungry

Poor Aaron. For the last 3 weekends, I’ve left him with the kids, and gone out by myself. First I took photos of a wedding. The next weekend, I did some volunteering stuff, and this weekend, I went to the Good Food and Wine Show in Sydney. I’ll be honest, I’d never actually heard of the Good Food and Wine show before this year. Yes, I live under a rock. Whatever.

Now I watch Masterchef Australia all the time (It’s slightly addictive. I’m actually watching it right now, as I write this. If a sentence suddenly stops making sense, it’s probably because my eyes are watching the tv and my mind is busy hoping that Amina won’t get eliminated) and happened to see an ad for the Good Food and Wine Show.

Shortly after, I was offered a free ticket from the good folks at Chobani (the top selling yogurt in the U.S., which has now come to Australia). I was sent some of their yogurt to review a few weeks ago, along with the Good Food and Wine show ticket. Score! The yogurt is DELICIOUS! And it has no added crap, lots of protein, and is thick and yummy. You can read my review of it here .

I wrangled my foodie exchange sister Lauren (whom you may remember from our Amazing Race Australia audition video) to go with me so I didn’t have to look like a loser walking around all by myself.

I didn’t really know what to expect.

As soon as we walked in the door, we spotted the Chobani Yogurt booth. They were giving away full servings of yogurt. None of this tiny-little-sample-cup stuff like all the other booths. Yuuuummmmmm…..

The Chobani stand. I only brought my crappy little point and shoot and there were people everywhere, so it was hard to get a photo. Hence why this one sucks.

Basically, the Good Food and Wine show is full of booths selling all things food and wine, giving out brochures of their stuff, and giving away delicious free samples. And some not so delicious. Like coconut water. I’d never tried it before, but my goodness, it tasted pretty much like sweaty socks. Not that I’ve ever eaten sweaty socks (in case you were wondering).

I ate a burrito before riding the train (and bus, there was track work that day) to Sydney for the show. Had I known there would be so many samples, I probably would have had a lighter lunch. Or not. I can always eat (not that you’d know that by looking at me).

Me drinking a smoothie sample. YUM!

It was great to hang out with Lauren, eat lots of free food, have some time away from the kids, and actually have time to do some reading (on the bus and train).

If you enjoyed reading this, please vote for my blog. All you have to do is click the link below. That’s it… Clicking the link brings you to the Top Mommy Blogs home page. You don’t have to do anything else. Any clicks from my site to theirs is a vote.  THANKS!

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