City crime down, except for (oh yeah, those!) the killings.

Which are up. But what kind of headline is that? And I swear they changed it, because B and I were so moved by the poetic flow of the original headline, crime down, killings up, or sumpin' like it, that we cut it out and taped it to our fridge (where all stupid things live temporarily). I can't possibly go ALL THE WAY BACK DOWNSTAIRS to make sure I'm correct, so you'll just have to believe me.

And if you don't live in St. Louis, you aren't even reading this, right?

Wut Up, Snow?

Wut Up, Snow?, originally uploaded by theredheadedlefty.

St. Louis was dumped on yesterday. It started snowing in the morning and never stopped. I have never lived somewhere where so much snow has come down in one day. If this had happened in my childhood, the histrionics of my town would have purchased $1000 snow bunny suits and walked to the nearest grocery store (stopping on their way for a mani/pedi) to buy their gallon jugs of Evian (JIC). That being said, St. Louis doesn’t handle snow much better than suburban Atlanta. In the “City,” which is often neglected and snubbed by the “County,” few streets have been (or will be) plowed and schools and businesses are closed.

In the AM, we headed over to the Missouri Botanical Garden, which is pretty much better than yours if you live anywhere other than Kyoto or London. Say what you want about living in the Midwest, but the MOBOT is untouchable. They have this super cool orchid exhibit right now called Niki (Japanese?), which is made up of a bunch of idyllic vignettes designed to resemble the famous storybook tales of our childhoods. There is a little Beatrix Potter garden, with a house and gardening implements (where real carrots and lettuce grow in tiny little rows). And a secret garden with a fence that is *almost* closed. To die for! Lots more and about a bazillion orchids of all shapes, sizes, and colors peeking out (totally healthy despite the fact that EVERYONE knows they are IMPOSSIBLE to care for. Or is that just me?). B is the designated “plant-keeper-aliver” in our house. If it doesn’t have a heartbeat, I can’t remember to water it. There has to be some outcome there, you know?, like when Wynn screams at me for a yogurt or G-thing breathes heavily into my morning ear. FEED ME NOW, LADY-PERSON, OR ELSE I WILL WAKE HER UP.

While we were playing in the MOBOT shop, B found a little white mouse that winds up and scurries around on the floor. Because Mr. Gabe is a menace to society and is prone to attacking furry creatures (remember, he’s a midwife), we thought it a delicious purchase for a snowy, stuck inside sort of a day. (Me: “We should probably keep Wynn away while we test it. He may go nuts and attack it. She’d be traumatized.” Him: “Yeah, we’ll turn on Elmo in the back room and do it up front!”). Click here to see how excited he wasn’t.

When the Missus went down for her nap, I had my first conference call with some very refreshing and uplifting ladies at my new place of employment. B headed downstairs to put together a new stepping stool for Wynn (which will allow for her to reach the water stream---by herself---while she’s toof brushing). He loves doing stuff like that. And I love part deux, the painting and prettifying. I was put on hold, though, because Safety Joe has yet to round off the edges and make it appropriately baby proof.

Sometime during the afternoon hours, when I was desperate for some activity, I got Wynnels all dolled up in ski gear, plasticized her feet, and took her outside to play in the snow. Here’s what she looked like. She probably lost all feeling in her fingers because she fell over and over again. And loved it.

Just the Two of Us

Just the Two of Us, originally uploaded by theredheadedlefty.

Today is gorgeous. Mid-60s. So this family packed up and took off to the Zoo this morning, where I came close to tears because all of the mediocre people who forget about the animals in the winter are BACK. We were observing a family of chimps when a guy came up behind me and yelled, "Hehe! Look, there's my dad!" He was pointing at the chimp. And he was at least 35. And he called the chimp a monkey. Sick.

B was in charge of photo-taking today, which was nice. It can be really addicting. The elephants were out and about, enjoying their day. And if you've seen the video I recently posted, you know that the Wynnels can talk back and forth with them (Braloo! Braloo! Bye bye. Silence). Which is pretty sweet.

Job Search?

The job search is well underway here in the Middle. I am calling, emailing, sending out resumes, applying, and all of that other stuff that makes me sort of wish that I had started working long before computers were our main means of communication and a potential employer would actually have to see my face before deciding to toss aside my resume. That being said, I am not discouraged! I am forging ahead, hoping to find something that I am sincerely excited about---and something that will facilitate my getting licensed---the KEY.

Ms. Wynnie has the flu this week. She had her 18 month immunizations on Monday and spiked a fever later that afternoon. I thought that she was responding to the immunizations, but we took her to the doctor today and found out that her little baby body actually has the flu. Last night she was up multiple times, her clothes soaked through, needing us. I was up between 4 and 5 and Brian was up twice, holding her and rocking her back to sleep (after changing her into something dry). The flu is bad when you're grown, but can you imagine being stuck in a crib with no option but to plead for someone to come and help you? It makes my heart hurt to think of it. We hope she is on the road to wellness.

It's snowing like mad here---been going since about 11 AM. B and I think it makes our neighborhood pretty. I was looking out the window tonight thinking about how when I was younger, people used to say, "No two snowflakes are alike." And I feel like it was always in an art class or somewhere similar, when you were folding little pieces of paper into squares and cutting holes that made something intricate and symmetrical (see below) but totally unlike any snowflake I've ever seen. But, of course, no two snowflakes really are alike, are they?

Art Class Snowflake

Winter's Here

Today it was cold.
The gray, leafless kind.
Where trees are just skeletons
asleep for the winter months.

I went for a run-
Wynn in the stroller.
I wore a hat
because sometimes the wind
gives my ears mini-headaches.

We passed a gray fluffy housecat,
outside, loving life.
Wynn pointed and squealed, "CAT!"
I noticed it was busy
gnawing on the bloody bones of a bird.
It was hungry.

Reminder: Don't get too close to nasty outside cats.

Anyway,
It was cold.
We sealed off our windows
but air creeps through tiny holes
in the casements.
If you don't wear socks, sweats, and blankets
in this house, in the winter---
you can keep icecream cold in your armpits.

For a second,
when I was walking to my car from school,
I thought,
"How many more months 'til spring?"
Which is what I do when the seasons change.

Winter's here.

St. Louis in the NY Times

Interviews.

Weirdest thing--- I had an interview today for a 2 -year training program to polish up my skills for practicing psychotherapy and I have NO idea how it went. I am absolutely certain that I have been hired for jobs in the past because of my winning personality (ha) or, at the very least, a good hair day. Now, I didn't LIKE those jobs (which is how it goes right? Because we are all destined to have a bad mood or a bad hair day and then WHY WERE WE HIRED?).

So, I won't go into any detail at all about where I interviewed because I'd like to actually end up getting into the program and it ain't the sort of place that would appreciate being a part of this one-sided conversation. I will just say that I went in all relaxed, surprisingly. As I get older (or have a baby and lose a large chunk of my brain, whichever makes you happier) I find that I am more and more detached from all of the bulls**t. I showered, which is pretty great, and then I put on a very nice, understated outfit and drove over to my interview. I even caught up with Al B. on the way over---we talked about the beach and tried to outdo each other (he was only going to the Atlantic while I spent last week at the Pacific! Scoff!). I walked in and read a Horticulture magazine while I waited 10 minutes for the interview. When they were a bit late, I just flipped the pages and skimmed for more fleurs.

When it came time for me to sell myself to the experts, I knew that what I had to offer them in terms of clinical experience was limited (thanks, GWB). I was upfront about that but also enthusiastic about having the opportunity to pursue my professional development with them. We went through many of the essential interview-type questions (I, of course, had my own) and they asked me about my own history in therapy (an important question indeed) and then we were done. I was told that I would be contacted after they had further reviewed my resume and contacted my references! When I asked for any relevant readings they would recommend (JIC I am accepted), they gave me the names of three books. And we said our goodbyes.

And that was it. And I thought about it for 10 minutes or so. I am more intrigued by the fact that I am not sure how it went. Usually I know right away---good or bad. But this was interesting. I'll let you know what happens.

Mini Wynnie at the Greater STL Minis Museum

Today, I rounded up the troops (all two of them) and we headed off to the Greater St. Louis Miniatures Museum. Anyone who knows me well knows I love miniature things (people, dogs, pinecones, furniture). When we saw an ad in the paper a few weeks ago about "things to do this summer," B noticed the coupon (much to his chagrin) and mentioned it to me. I have been excited ever since.

I can't figure out exactly why I love dollhouses. I know it has to be something that is totally wrong or warped in my mind. It doesn't really make any sense. In fact, that someone would spend money and time to build a miniature house with all of the necessary accoutrements (and to scale!, as I learned today) seems s-t-u-p-i-d. Plant a tree. Go for a walk. See a good movie. Spend time with your family. But just like any other hobby, this one has enthusiasts (I am an appreciative observer at this point). And besides, there was a miniature bottle of champagne that had real champagne (tiny!)!

One thing that isn't so surprising but that I find interesting is that there is a whole subculture of "miniaturists" around the country who compete and even send their "work" to the Greater St. Louis Minis Museum. It is all there to see, even the "exact" replica of the cathedral basilica downtown (the painstaking work of a local dentist). They have these little light switches for illuminating the display, which allows for the best view into the house/restaurant/garden, etc. The ladies that worked there had a TV on playing, I am sure, a soap opera of some sort. And while my image of their lives makes my stomach hurt a little bit, I have in common with them a love of miniature things.

Pretty Morning

Pretty Morning
Originally uploaded by Ashley333.

Here's a picture from Winter Storm '06 (oooohhh aaaahhh). B and I were off school and work on Friday. We suited up G and Baby and headed over to the park, where there were trees down and all sorts of new smells to excite a young dog. I am at work this morning, though---the streets have cleared and are somewhat safe for driving.

Cheers to December!

St. Louis the Most Dangerous City

St. Louis, Missouri not only came out ahead of Detroit in the World Series, it also beat out Detroit to rank as the nation’s most dangerous city. St. Louis reported the highest violent crime and property crime rates among cities of 75,000 or more population.

“St. Louis last ranked as the Most Dangerous City in 2002,” said Morgan. “While the city clearly struggles with crime, there is some good news: St. Louis’ property crime rate has fallen 14 percent since 2001.”

Graduate school and acceptance week!

This week has proved to be the graduate school acceptance olympics. I am please to announce that I have been accepted to Michigan and Penn (as well as my chosen school, WashU). Its nice to feel as if I have what it takes to be a student in these fine social work programs... I don't know what to do about it! Tried to call B but he is out and about and isn't taking calls. Tried to call mom and she's at work and not answering. So I guess I just throw a little party right here at my desk. Yippee.

Only in America, and only in my new state!

Don't call him Ronald: Baby McDonald born under golden arches

Associated Press
Published on: 01/12/05
UNION, Mo. — Ann McDonald knew the baby was coming and there wasn't a hospital in sight, so she pulled over and delivered the child outside — appropriately enough — a McDonald's restaurant.

Chayse Westin McDonald was due Wednesday. But on Sunday, Ann McDonald knew her time was getting near — and fast.

Problem was, there is no hospital in this eastern Missouri town, and the closest one was 15 minutes away.

McDonald, whose husband is fighting in Iraq, and the child's grandmother, Linda Cuneio, got in the car, but it soon became evident they wouldn't make it to a hospital. So they pulled over at a McDonald's in Union.

The baby was born beneath the golden arches.

"Of course everyone is like, 'Are you going to name him Ronald?'" Ann McDonald said.