Ode to a Tuesday.

April 30, 2013


When I went to change out my 20L water tank as I do each Tuesday, I discovered a liquidy mass grave of dead ants floating in my supposed filtered water source along with a ring of black mold on the spigot. I am not sure what happened in there this week, but suddenly the frequent bathroom trips make so much sense. It is also the end of April and still ninety degrees outside. My pores are displeased.

But. BUT after months of feeling like a complete dunce, I finally hit my stride studying for the GRE today. I made a perfect batch of brownies and a la mode is totally happening tonight. Lil’ Miss Nugget called to remind me yet again that I am her best friend forever always and that she just ate an apple. I’m practicing a “theology of thankfulness,” and I’m feeling good.



April 21, 2013

IMAG0015The guest of honor.

I had heard rumors about the legendary tarantulas roaming about in the wild here in Paraguay, but never had I actually seen one. Truthfully, the only ones I ever encountered were the ones at the San Diego Zoo and they were always trapped in a tiny exhibit behind a thick slab of glass (fine by me).

Yesterday, I pulled up to church, and as I alighted from my car, I was hurriedly waved over by J and his daughter. With no inclination whatsoever as to what was inspiring the pressing need, I trotted over. I kind of expected a puppy and instead was greeted by my first sighting of a massive rogue tarantula.

I meant to squat for a closer look, but J immediately squawked, “They are poisonous! And they jump! That thing could kill a kid!” Then he promptly stomped on it, eliciting a loud crunch of the exoskeleton, spraying spider juices everywhere.



December 1, 2012

IMAG0077Behold, a behemoth (ha ha, see what I did there?).
Seriously, it was so big, it had the body of a baboon and the mane of a male lion. Sick.

Taken from a moving vehicle. Looks like a painting, no?

The Gran Chaco is an arid region that spans Bolivia, Paraguay, Argentina, and Brazil. The Paraguayan Chaco is where I survived this. Fortunately, my run through the Argentine portion of the Chaco yielded a significantly less crawly experience as I was safely ensconced in a car subjected only to endless chants of “hot doooog, diggily dog” by four enthusiastic child voices. I prefer repetitive frankfurter anthems over Indiana Jones nightmares any day.

Never thought that would be a sentence I’d ever utter.