Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in Just a wanderer's LiveJournal:

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Thursday, February 19th, 2009
6:54 pm	Zoo gone by The phrase you're most likely to hear upon telling people that you work for Franklin Park Zoo is "Wow, I remember that zoo, I haven't been there in years!" (the second most likely phrase is "Isn't that where the gorilla escaped a few years back?").  This is rather unfortunate, as it indicates that people who once used to patronize our zoo no longer do.  However, what is best about this phrase is that, sometimes with a further question or two, you can almost always get an interesting story of this person's favorite zoo memory.  Such as today, when I had a little chat with one of the owners of the Shire Bookshop over a cup of tea.  She told me about when she brought her daughter into Boston, when she was about 5 years old (about 20 years ago).  While on Boston Common, they met up with a mounted police officer.  Her daughter walked up to the horse and bowed, and the horse bowed back.  Later that day, they went to the zoo and stopped in the petting zoo.  There, her daughter went up to one of the goats and bowed, and once again, the goat bowed back.  She thought this was amazing but had no idea what it might mean, and so asked the zookeeper nearby.  The keeper told her that both the child and the goat know the most vulnerable part of the girl's body is the top of her head, and so it is a very special communication for her to expose it to the goat, and the goat is acknowledging that trust.  Her daughter has a very special gift, he told her.  She apparently tried to go back to the zoo on several occasions to thank the keeper for his incredible interpretation of something so deep and over her head, but was never able to find him again to do so.  Now of course the animal behaviorist in me knows that there is absolutely no basis for such an explanation.  But I think it is so important to get that little reminder now and then of the almost magical sense that many people get when interacting with animals.  Not far from there, the owner of Village Books told me about how he took his son to the zoo some 15-20 years ago.  His most intense memory was spending a long time watching a black panther pace back and forth.  He spoke of it with almost awe, it was an impressive beast.  He also remembered a exhibit that was basically a pit where you could look down and see some sort of small animals (must be the prairie dog exhibit, that still actually exists in that same form).  There were three big, scary teenagers who were joking around nearby and made him somewhat nervous regarding his son.  But then one of the teens came over and offered a handful of food for his son to feed the animals with and he felt terrible that he'd made such a negative assumption on first seeing them.  Several months ago, I'd gone wandering out Washington St, and had stopped in several shops, including a florist's.  We'd gotten to chatting and she told me her most vivid memory of the zoo from when she was a little girl.  The best part by far, was the pink candy popcorn.  You could buy a big bag of it and share it with the elephants.  She of course asked if we still had the pink popcorn and I felt bad that I had to tell her we no longer had pink popcorn or even elephants, for that matter.  While I, of course, appreciate the great leaps that modern zoos have made in animal care and exhibit design (because it is certainly better for the animals!), there is a part of me that is a little saddened that the modern zoo also means far less interaction between people and animals.  Will our current guests have memories so vivid of their passive visits, they can relive them fully 20 or 30 years from now? (Comment on this)
Wednesday, January 28th, 2009
3:40 pm	Duckie One of those odd paradoxes of my job.  Our wetlands "exhibit" is supposed to have a mesh covering over it to keep the wild fly-ins from freeloading off our duck feed and outcompeting our collection ducks for food.  The storm about a month back wiped that out, so the duck pond is wide open.  Now every day we curse all mallards to the depths of hell for harassing our ducks and being overly aggressive.  However, yesterday, I spotted a female mallard hanging out in our little pond with her beak completely iced up.  Our shelducks, shovelers, and swans regularly get icy beaks and it does them no harm, but I'd never seen a mallard with one.  On a closer look, she appeared to have something around her neck and seemed unable to eat the grain I had just poured.  Upon alerting my boss, the whole group of us go out to the duck pond, net her up, and proceed to spend the next 10 minutes or so rotating who gets to hold her beak to thaw it.  Turns out she had tried to eat the ring from around a bottle neck (about the size of one from an Odwalla bottle) and had managed to flip it up over her head so her head was tucked into her neck, like a nicely reigned dressage horse.  We cut her free, defrosted her, set her in the warm straw right next to the grain pan, and proceeded to check up on her for the rest of the day, hoping she does well.  And yet we'll still spend the rest of the winter cursing all mallards to hell and chasing them with all manner of flailing and banging out of our duck pond.  Animal care people are an odd crowd. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, January 23rd, 2009
11:19 am	A few thoughts on winter zookeeping... - You really don't realize how many locks you have on any given exhibit (ie, 10 locks to put the leopards on exhbiit, 13 if you keep them in holding and give them access to their outdoor holding areas for the day) until every, single one of them is frozen solid and must be defrosted before opening and again before relocking.  At least twice a day. - Trying to work Bic lighters (to thaw locks) with frozen hands is simply not possible.  Large grill lighters tend to break in half if you stick them in your pocket and forget them, and they also go out with the faintest wind (whether you can feel a breeze or not has nothing to do with whether a lighter thinks there's a breeze and decides to go out).  I finally went out and bought an electric butane wind-resistant lighter that blasted like a mini blowtorch in my apartment.  Even it wouldn't light for me out in the cold.  BAH! - There are no secrets in the snow.  All those little secret cut-throughs you use are now broadcast to the public by footprints.  Every little cut and scrape seems much worse when you can see the bright red blood spot on the ground.  You know about every single pigeon that the local hawks catch because there are mounds of feathers (and occasionally feet) in the snow.  Every active rat burrow can be located when they dig themselves out, every rat trail can be marked.  The same goes for random stray cats and rabbits.  - Nature designs well.  Even with three layers of gloves on, my hands are so cold my arms ache to the shoulder.  And yet the ducks are standing on ice without a care, the red panda is cuddled up on a mound of snow, and the coyotes are trotting around their frozen exhibit as if nothing were amiss.   I've seen the muntjac shiver on occasion, but if they're going to stand out there and eat snow when there's a heated water bowl right next to them,  that's their own issue. Current Mood: frozen (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Friday, November 28th, 2008
11:00 am	Driving back from Thanksgiving at my aunt and uncle's last night, it hit me, as it always does on my drive home from anywhere.  Why go back?  Why go home to the apartment?  I want to just keep driving, overland style, till I can't drive any more, find a hotel, get up the next morning and keep on driving.  Stop at anything interesting along the way.  Just keep going.  No return trip, always forward.  Let's see what's out there.  The elastic cord that pulls me back every time, how many times can it stretch before it snaps, and I just don't go back? (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 27th, 2008
7:53 am	Identification Earlier this week, I was weeding the wetlands exhibit, which was overrun by purple loosestrife.  Among the purple were a lot of eye-high plants with grass-like seeds sprouting out of the top, which I simply noted in passing as "Hmm, those look interesting, I wonder what they are, I haven't seen them anywhere else around the zoo..." Upon proceeding to brush them aside and reach through to grab a stalk of loosestrife: "GAAAAHHH! Yes I have yes I have!" Moral of the story: Know your hazardous plants in ALL their life stages. I now know what stinging nettle looks like when it grows up.  Current Mood: Still twitching (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, August 13th, 2008
1:38 am	You win some, you lose some.  Just have to remember the times you've won when you're in the midst of losing.  Love you, my Addy cow. Current Mood: sad (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, June 19th, 2008
5:19 pm	"Ain't heard nothing but the jawbone since..." The Sea Music Festival at Mystic Seaport was amazing as always, even better with my random Cornell girls there!  I think the late night pub sings become more and more my favorite part of the weekend. But the percussion jam session in the basement of the pub beats it all.   Bodhrans, middle eastern drum, bones, claps from those without instruments, vocal improve by the dancers, all in the darkened room, glimpsed between the jumping bows of two fiddles, not an eye open round the table, not a body still.  Just a swirl of beat, sound, and motion.  I wish I could have taken a video, but it felt felt like it would be an intrusion to record them in that context  They weren't performing, they were playing, living it.  It could never have captured the moment fully in any case.  I'm going to be hearing drums and bones and fiddles in my head for days still, methinks. Current Mood: entranced Current Music: Trouz Bras (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, June 4th, 2008
2:37 am	Don't shoot the dog, er, horse I had such a trainer's moment today. We recently got two miniature horses transferred in from Stone Zoo (our "sister zoo" up north of the city). One of them has been absolutely obnoxious about picking up his front right hoof for cleaning or examination. He got away with it a few times and now rears and does a "ro-day-o" (as they'd say back in the circus horse barn) every time he's groomed. Our extern has done amazing job getting him over it, but going through his annual physical by the vet a couple days ago set him back to almost square one. What bothered me was that he was rearing up as soon as you stood facing to pick up the foot; you barely had to reach for it before he was already all over the place. After a bit of a fight for the foot and finishing the rest of grooming, I figured I'd work on a little desensitization, with the goal of just being able to run hands over the whole leg without a fight. So I started scratching his neck (which he'd seemed to enjoy being curried earlier) and slowly worked down. I even had to start facing forwards (you face towards the back of the horse in order to pick up a foot) to avoid an instant panic session. After a few minutes I was able to face backwards and scratch his neck, but touching the leg led to rearing. So we started over, working down very gradually, making sure he'd relaxed a little before reaching any further, always going back to the neck. After about 10 minutes of this, I was able to finally run a hand along the leg down to the fetlock. At this point, he suddenly picked up his own foot and simply held it there, as if saying "What, is this it? Is this really all you want?". I praised him heavily, held the offered foot for a moment, ran the hoofpick over it a second time and set it down. No fuss from him whatsoever. I wanted so badly to see if he would do it again, but everything in the rational part of my brain kept cutting in with "Stop here! End on the positive note! He did exactly what you wanted! Don't you dare touch that leg again right now, you know better!". I made myself simply heap on the praise and take him straight out to the corral with his hay. It's so hard not to push. I was so excited. Sometimes it's the little things. Of course, the real test is how he behaves for the keepers tomorrow. Small steps... Current Mood: accomplished (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, April 27th, 2008
9:25 pm	You do your job and we'll do ours I would like to make a public servie announcement to all zoo visitors: If you see animals which appear to be fighting and you are concerned, by all means, notify the nearest keeer/docent/security worker you see.  Keepers will immediately investigate and take action if any is required.   Please DO NOT attempt to end an apparent confrontation yourself by reaching into the enclosure and beating one of the animals with a stick.   Thank you, and have a nice day :). Current Mood: annoyed (Comment on this)
Saturday, April 19th, 2008
4:30 pm	Yummy fingers... So, my observation for today is that we should start giving the parrots squishy things to chew on for enrichment as well as hard things they can crack.  Because I'll tell you, that umbrella cockatoo was chomping the flesh of my wrist with far more glee than any wooden block I've hung in her cage previously. Also, you know something has happened to your pain tolerance when you can have an umbrella cockatoo chomping gleefully on your wrist and simply pry open the beak and continue with your cleaning.  I'm sure it'll hurt tomorrow. I might complain more about being chomped by both a cockatoo and a black swan in one day, but my friend losing her right thumb to a forklift last week sort of gives me perspective. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, April 10th, 2008
11:36 pm	Ink Thanks to the local book group I've been poking at, I've been sucked into the Goodreads site.  Having played with it for a few months now, I've decided it is a rather addictive plaything.  So any of you reader-types out there, go join!  It's social networking -- but with books!  Current Mood: geeky (Comment on this)
Wednesday, April 9th, 2008
4:59 pm	Has all the ice been broken, all our surfaces been scratched... I'd noted some time ago, in relation to a once very dear friend, that silence is the cruelest punishment. I've since learned it can be outdone. Silence may be cruel, but silence with complete indifference is even more so. (Comment on this)
Wednesday, February 27th, 2008
9:56 pm	There's a thing and a thing then a thing...and a LUNGE! I wasn't going to go to Ithaca. Too much effort, like everything has been. But I have a very persistent sinister friend and somehow ended up shooting out there for a "weekend". It is amazing what a single visit can do. Even the drive out there was like hitting a reset button on my mind. Blasting down the Mass Pike from one end to the other, the familiar exits for New York towns I've never seen along the way (Utica, Unadilla, and the impossibly-cheerful-sounding SCHENECTADY!), even the horse-and-carriage sign for Amish furniture, and the evil glowing red cross of doom along 79. Ithaca is home. The whole trip to Ithaca is home. I managed to arrive Sunday night 5 minutes before The Old Teahouse closed (oh, wonderful honey black bubble tea!), and went to Risley, displaced center of my world at Cornell, to meet up with Ringers I knew and didn't know. My god, how I've _missed_ them! Two days of catching up and laughing and storytelling and teasing and remembering and plotting and, of course, swording. It's odd how you can so quickly grow apart from most people, yet there are some you fall immediately back into step with, even when it's been going on two years since you last spoke face-to-face. I learned 3 different cracks with a snake whip and refreshed the rapier/dagger fight. Such a rush. Even footwork that left me in the dust (it's been far too long!), turning a moulinet with a rapier, everything felt energizing and _right_. My form sucked, my speed was snail-ish, but every now and then things clicked and flowed and it didn't matter. I was at Cornell, in Risley, rapier in hand, with two of my dearest partners-in-arms (and crosswords), surrounded by Ringers I'd never met, a thriving group from the shaky beginnings I'd been part of. They may not pat their instructor on the head or sing when they move tables, but they are still completely and uniquely ROSI. Only one person was missing, the fourth of the latenight J's crowd, an absence sorely felt. And I suppose the existence of J's would have been nice as well (curses to the West Campus initiative!). A little bit of everything that mattered at the point when I left Cornell, my friends, Ring, swords, future dreams, we even crashed one of Tom Hill's Icelandic Sagas classes. How can I hold onto that, remember that it meant so much before the current associations? I no longer know which way moves forward or back. But I raise a toast to the true friends who hold me together. Time and distance are irrelevant, I knew that once, and this weekend was a much-needed reminder. Current Mood: rejuvenated (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, February 22nd, 2008
10:37 pm	One last jab from the circus life... Everybody talks about the tiny living space, the unstable social life, the crazies you work with and for, the wearing-down nature of constant travel, but nobody asks about the true nightmare of working for the circus -- the goddamn taxes! I have W-2s from 16 states and 4 localities stacked next to this computer. Last year I found a nice man at Jackson Hewitt to do my taxes and it was quite affordable, all was simple. I didn't realize that was unusual. The nice people at H&R Block and Jackson Hewitt around here don't want to touch this mess, and want at least $600 for the attempt. Not bloody likely. So now I'm going through and doing them all (all 21 tax forms plus all the nonresident schedules, etc.) by hand. Because e-filing isn't set up for someone with 20 W-2s. Nothing is. So, 9 down, 11 to go. And I'm going cross-eyed (not to mention almost out of printer ink). I feel like I'm back at Cornell doing a never-ending problem set. Save me. Current Mood: losing it (4 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, January 3rd, 2008
10:26 pm	Small steps So I am now the proud renter of my own little box in Boston. Yes, literally a box. According to the handy guidebook Christmas present, Boston is the third most expensive city in the country to live in. It even beats San Francisco. From my own research, it is also at the low-end of the zoo pay for the country. This is an unfortunate combination. I was sold on a nice big one bedroom for a while and the cost of it all sort of overwhelmed me. In a fit of panic I backed out and went with a tiny (but far more affordable) studio. It's still (slightly) bigger than my closet/home on the train, so I suppose it counts as a step forward -- and it has my very own bathroom and "kitchen"! Mine! Mwahahaha. Still with a minifridge, but can't win 'em all right away. Someday I'll have a real kitchen and room for my library...someday.... But the landlord lives in the building and seems very nice and I'm not a 10 minute drive from work. And it's only an hour from my parents' house (2 in traffic) so I can keep most of my stuff there and still have it accessible. So for now, I will be content with my box. The next trick will be employing all my circus-learned space-conserving techniques when I move in on Saturday. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Sunday, December 23rd, 2007
10:43 pm	It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas... Zibi: "You know what Laura do on Saturday?  She take nice beer, sit back, and laugh haha! that we all have to work. Ay yi yi!" Cindy: "And you know what she'll be doing with that beer?  Shivering!" And so I'm back in New Hampshire (and 3 feet of snow!) until I can find a Boston apartment (also in 3 feet of snow).  In some fit of madness, did the whole drive from Orlando to Nashua in one 23 hour run.  Saved money on the rental and didn't hit anything, so I suppose it wasn't a totally bad call. Already missing the evening glass(es) of wine on the vestibule.  Saluto! (3 Comments |Comment on this)
Wednesday, December 5th, 2007
11:38 pm	"One short day..." Well, it's official -- I start as a zookeeper at the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston in January. I handed in my 2 weeks notice to the circus today; I could tell myself it wasn't real till then. This is exactly what I wanted 2 and a half years ago when I graduated. I suppose it's time to find out if it still is. I don't know if this is motion forward or backward. Have to restart somewhere I guess. My soul still rests in another city. My heart will stay on this train. I can only hope what's left of my mind goes with me to Boston and the rest may follow in time. (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Thursday, November 22nd, 2007
1:07 am	"I'm not that girl..." Something broke yesterday. Felt it snap with the sound of a cat's paws. I do not know which end it broke at, I think at both. I fear I pushed too far. I think I was never meant to be unbroken. Or to be unbreaking. (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 20th, 2007
12:51 am	"Don't wish, don't start.... ...Wishing only wounds the heart." How can I change direction when the Universe seems determined to point the same old way, the way that I so want to go? Current Music: Wicked soundtrack, in my head (2 Comments |Comment on this)
Sunday, October 21st, 2007
12:29 am	Pet peeve of the day... Okay, so you're a witty person who has spent a fair bit of money to demonstrate your wittiness by downloading individual ringtones for every person in your phone. Cute. But why do people think other people want to sit down and listen through all their wittily assigned ringtones? If it's a mutual friend or an inside joke between us, by all means, ring away and let's have a laugh. But I really don't care what song you assigned your wife, your best friend from high school, your neighbor who watches your dog, your sister's ex-boyfriend's current wife's best friend from high school who watches her dog. Really. And as an add-on to this, it probably isn't the best idea to tell your boss that you gave her a personal ringtone then gleefully wave the phone in her face while it plays "Ding, Dong, the Witch is Dead." Current Mood: irritable (4 Comments |Comment on this)