As I finish the first arch of the Avengers, my heart is full. These weren't just characters to me, they were friends... maybe even family. Each movie in the series marked an important turning point in my life -
from Iron Man struggling with post-traumatic stress, and its overwhelming, well-justified, crippling fear
to Gamora, so battered and hardened that she couldn't accept tenderness or feel love until she found a man so stupid and yet so unexpectedly earnest that he managed to slip through her guard.
to Steve Rogers, a man out of time, left disorientated and unmotivated, drifting away in a world not his own
to Dr. Strange, squandering everything he had in a vain attempt to recapture a glory that would never truly satisfy
to Pepper Potts, who never really wanted the superhero life but had one friend she loved through it all
to Black Widow, always atoning, never forgetting, and yet also not lost to her guilt.
I'm going to miss them.
The endings of the storylines fit so perfectly.
When we were introduced to Ironman, his most important motive was survival and second was pleasure. Over time, he grew to understand what mattered most. One of the things I found interesting was when he specifically listed to Captain America what his most important goals were - absolutely not to lose what the five years had built, but bring back the people Thanos killed, and try not to die on the way. I'm glad he had his five years of true and peaceful rest, with his family. I was equally glad to see Pepper on the battlefield herself, fighting alongside the rest of the team.
Dr. Strange's part was inglorious, and yet he was content with that. The smallness of the part he had to play didn't even seem to cross his mind.
The loss of Gamora hit hardest. Too have grown so much, only leave behind an echo who is stuck in square one. Worse than square one, even, because she's without the family that helped her to grow in the first place. Nebula has too many of the same scars to be of much help, though her speech about becoming sisters was heart-warming.
That was a powerful storyline. We knew young-Nebula wasn't willing or able to turn on Thanos. She adored him, and not yet been out on her own. We also knew young-Gamora could, that she stood on the edge and might, at any moment, choose to chart her own course. But you can't step in the same river twice. Every moment of decision is different.
Steve Rogers finally had a chance to stop being the costume, and to start being a man. With Black Widow and Ironman gone, it seems only right that he should make that choice. Sam and Bucky might have been Steve's best friends, but it was Tony and Nat who forced him to grow and whom he most forced to grow in return. I think they would have been pleased, had they known. And... the moment when Ironman gave Captain America back his shield... that was the best.
When we first met Black Widow, back when the Avengers first assembled, she told us she had red in her ledger and that she wanted to wipe it out. In Age of Ultron, we learned of how much and how deeply she desired to be a mother. In this one, she told Steve the Avengers were her only family and she told Barton she never knew her father's name. She died of her own free choice, in an act that at once repaid her debt to Barton and gave three children their father.
So many steps in this journey, so many lessons in a life. My heart is full indeed.
For my own part, I am grateful for my church. That is my family now. There were so many times I thought about leaving it. Like Ironman, I'd seen my world destroyed too many times. I thought I had to sacrifice all else to protect myself. Like Gamora, I feared to let myself be made vulnerable. Like Steve, I didn't know how to function in a world so different from the one I was raised to live in. Like Nat, I'm not proud of the person I've been. Like Dr. Strange, I defined myself by my performance.
It is a new day, in a new world. I wonder what it will be?
Saturday, May 18, 2019
Friday, January 11, 2019
Salt, Sand, and Snow
The adventures in salt water continue, with the newest acquisitions of a bluestripe cleaning wrasse and a pink spot goby.
The Goby looks like a dinosaur, I swear. That face! And it just about walks on its flippers. I mean... not really "walks," but that is how it looks. And it's got a fin on its belly that looks something like a backwards hand, supporting his weight.
So, his name is Arlo, although personality-wise he doesn't much resemble the skittish hero of Pixar's Dinosaur. He doesn't come out of his cave much, if he can help it.
The Wrasse looks like a swimming, pointy faced ribbon. So far, none of the fish will let her clean them. She's very polite about asking, though. She approaches; they startle, like they think she's about to nip them; she immediately backs off. In between approaches to her tank mates, she's been giving the filter a very thorough cleaning.
Her name is Miah.
On the advice of one of the employees from the pet store, I added limestone sand to the tank, to help regulate the pH levels. Since that isn't the actual substrate, more of a post-set up dusting, it makes the tank look as if blanketed by snow. I really enjoy the effect.
One of the first things I realized when I got the wrasse is that the damsels had taken possession of the tank. That's a risk with damsels. They'll tolerate anyone who was there first, but they don't like newcomers. Since I like the wrasse much more than I like them, that meant the damsels got evicted. One went to quarantine, to keep the ocelleris clownfish company; the other got added to the brackish tank to make nice with Bertie the leopard puffer.
Ocelleris clownfish and leopard puffers are also territorial fish, which is why I don't keep them in the 40 gallon. I tried with the clown, but never even bothered with the puffer.
I'm thinking about calling the ocelleris Jerry Two, after the Jerry who got eaten by Ben, since they're the same type and color. Call him "JT" for short.
There are two clownfish in the 40 gallon, a maroon and a cinnamon. I haven't named them, but they should get names. Maybe Cindy and Moony? Although, as I think about it, Scabbers and Moony would be more fun.
The Goby looks like a dinosaur, I swear. That face! And it just about walks on its flippers. I mean... not really "walks," but that is how it looks. And it's got a fin on its belly that looks something like a backwards hand, supporting his weight.
So, his name is Arlo, although personality-wise he doesn't much resemble the skittish hero of Pixar's Dinosaur. He doesn't come out of his cave much, if he can help it.
The Wrasse looks like a swimming, pointy faced ribbon. So far, none of the fish will let her clean them. She's very polite about asking, though. She approaches; they startle, like they think she's about to nip them; she immediately backs off. In between approaches to her tank mates, she's been giving the filter a very thorough cleaning.
Her name is Miah.
On the advice of one of the employees from the pet store, I added limestone sand to the tank, to help regulate the pH levels. Since that isn't the actual substrate, more of a post-set up dusting, it makes the tank look as if blanketed by snow. I really enjoy the effect.
One of the first things I realized when I got the wrasse is that the damsels had taken possession of the tank. That's a risk with damsels. They'll tolerate anyone who was there first, but they don't like newcomers. Since I like the wrasse much more than I like them, that meant the damsels got evicted. One went to quarantine, to keep the ocelleris clownfish company; the other got added to the brackish tank to make nice with Bertie the leopard puffer.
Ocelleris clownfish and leopard puffers are also territorial fish, which is why I don't keep them in the 40 gallon. I tried with the clown, but never even bothered with the puffer.
I'm thinking about calling the ocelleris Jerry Two, after the Jerry who got eaten by Ben, since they're the same type and color. Call him "JT" for short.
There are two clownfish in the 40 gallon, a maroon and a cinnamon. I haven't named them, but they should get names. Maybe Cindy and Moony? Although, as I think about it, Scabbers and Moony would be more fun.
Tuesday, January 1, 2019
Tom, Ben, and Jerry
My anemone ate my clownfish.
I have to admit, I never saw that coming. Actually, it took me a very long time to be sure that's what happened, and that Jerry wasn't just hiding somewhere in the tank. Not a trace of him anywhere. Turns out, anemones are very tidy eaters.
Anyway, after it happened, I did some research and discovered that the earlier posts I'd read about this particular variety of anemone (Haitian) weren't being quite as blunt about the dangers as would have been useful. I thought it was just that clownfish don't show an interest in Haitians, since the article said they didn't bond well. I thought my two were being an exception, since Jerry looked so happy all snuggled into the tentacles.
I mean... he would dart out to chase Tom or the damsels, and then rush back to Ben like he thought one of the other fish might try to claim his seat. If he was being eaten that whole time, one wouldn't think he could get away or that he would come back.
Also, he would go fetch the shrimp pieces I dropped in the tank and take them back to Ben to feed him, which was just the cutest thing to watch.
Maybe Ben felt smothered by love? Jerry was always right next to him at every possible moment. So, Ben just went, "snap," and swallowed Jerry whole?
A part of me wants to laugh - mostly, I think, out of shock. The rest of me, once I finally got past the denial and bargaining stages, hid under my blankets. Obviously, I am an utterly horrible fish mommy. I keep picturing the last time I saw Jerry (much deeper in the anemone than usual) and wondering if that was when he was getting eaten and how I could possibly have missed his tragically agonized expression...
which, of course, I was only imagining in hindsight, and I know this because fish faces don't express agony like that.
Also, clownfish have a perpetually down-turned set of lips, so they always look the dolphin's grumpy old great uncle, yelling at the world to stay off their anemone.
So, then I got into the angry area of grief, and stalked over to the tank to scoop Ben out and put him in the quarantine tank. He probably wasn't a danger to Tom, who had shown zero interest in any anemones, but I decided I'd rather not take any changes.
Ben looks insufferably pleased with himself, sprawled out all over quarantine's floor.
I'm sure there is a lesson in all of this, some deep and profound moral truth that I will definitely be digging out and recording in my diary, but, for the moment... I'm still trying to accept what happened.
I did go get two new clownfish and a clownfish-compatible anemone, none of which have yet been named. The guy at the pet store warned me that the yellow variety of clownfish (there's a more scientific name for the species, I just don't remember it) is more aggressive towards its look-alikes than its look-alikes are, so I may need to set up one of my empty tanks sooner than planned.
The quarantine is only a 10 gallon, not something a clownfish can be housed in long term, even if I did move Ben into my newly planned shelf tank.
Anyhow, this concludes the first adventure of the salt water tank. One weekend in, they've already proved more dramatic than my freshwater companions. Its like a bad soap opera!
I have to admit, I never saw that coming. Actually, it took me a very long time to be sure that's what happened, and that Jerry wasn't just hiding somewhere in the tank. Not a trace of him anywhere. Turns out, anemones are very tidy eaters.
Anyway, after it happened, I did some research and discovered that the earlier posts I'd read about this particular variety of anemone (Haitian) weren't being quite as blunt about the dangers as would have been useful. I thought it was just that clownfish don't show an interest in Haitians, since the article said they didn't bond well. I thought my two were being an exception, since Jerry looked so happy all snuggled into the tentacles.
I mean... he would dart out to chase Tom or the damsels, and then rush back to Ben like he thought one of the other fish might try to claim his seat. If he was being eaten that whole time, one wouldn't think he could get away or that he would come back.
Also, he would go fetch the shrimp pieces I dropped in the tank and take them back to Ben to feed him, which was just the cutest thing to watch.
Maybe Ben felt smothered by love? Jerry was always right next to him at every possible moment. So, Ben just went, "snap," and swallowed Jerry whole?
A part of me wants to laugh - mostly, I think, out of shock. The rest of me, once I finally got past the denial and bargaining stages, hid under my blankets. Obviously, I am an utterly horrible fish mommy. I keep picturing the last time I saw Jerry (much deeper in the anemone than usual) and wondering if that was when he was getting eaten and how I could possibly have missed his tragically agonized expression...
which, of course, I was only imagining in hindsight, and I know this because fish faces don't express agony like that.
Also, clownfish have a perpetually down-turned set of lips, so they always look the dolphin's grumpy old great uncle, yelling at the world to stay off their anemone.
So, then I got into the angry area of grief, and stalked over to the tank to scoop Ben out and put him in the quarantine tank. He probably wasn't a danger to Tom, who had shown zero interest in any anemones, but I decided I'd rather not take any changes.
Ben looks insufferably pleased with himself, sprawled out all over quarantine's floor.
I'm sure there is a lesson in all of this, some deep and profound moral truth that I will definitely be digging out and recording in my diary, but, for the moment... I'm still trying to accept what happened.
I did go get two new clownfish and a clownfish-compatible anemone, none of which have yet been named. The guy at the pet store warned me that the yellow variety of clownfish (there's a more scientific name for the species, I just don't remember it) is more aggressive towards its look-alikes than its look-alikes are, so I may need to set up one of my empty tanks sooner than planned.
The quarantine is only a 10 gallon, not something a clownfish can be housed in long term, even if I did move Ben into my newly planned shelf tank.
Anyhow, this concludes the first adventure of the salt water tank. One weekend in, they've already proved more dramatic than my freshwater companions. Its like a bad soap opera!
 |
| The villainous Ben (foreground; looks like a green centipedal octopus) awaits the next and final visit of the unsuspecting Jerry (midground, yellow clownfish). Tom, sensing trouble, hides off camera. |
Tuesday, December 4, 2018
December Resolution
One of the things I love about myself is that I'm stubborn. I'm a survivor. If something doesn't work, I'll adjust strategies or reevaluate goals, but I don't give up. I might bend, but I don't break.
Cerberus died. I haven't replaced him yet, since I've put a ban on my fish-spending through December. I tried banning my spending in November, but wasn't quite strong-willed enough. This time, I'm going with a different strategy. Every time I think of something that would make my fish better or my tanks more beautiful, I write it down on a shopping list. This way, I'll be able to remember it all, so it can still happen eventually, even if not right now, and I will also be able to prioritize goals when January comes.
In the meantime, I practice sitting still, counting and identifying and enjoying my fish, while an audiobook plays in the background. This way, I know what's going on with them, I'm more likely to pick up on something going wrong, and I'm less anxious. Observation is a great way to calm anxiety.
Confession time: I picked up on that tactic from Star Trek. You know the one where Data goes nuts because he realizes Starfleet is planning to relocate that one population on the world of eternal youth?
"Help me find the strength to keep you in this moment."
Yup. There's some good stuff in sci-fi!
Anyway, I have three fish who ought to have names, but don't just yet. Two female bettas, an adult and a juvenile, and a rainbow shark. The rainbow I didn't name because I was worried he might die on me. There were two primary possible causes for Durango and Stormcloud's unfortunate deaths. One was the temperature and the other was the Opaline gourami, who has been getting more aggressive as he grows. My money's on the Opaline, so the new shark went in the danio tank instead. Danios are less... specific... in their nipping and chasing games.
Given that the shark still lives, I think my guess was right.
Anyway, in keeping with the weather theme, I believe I'll name this one Cirrus. Readers of Wings of Fire might appreciate the irony of naming a fish after a surly, secret-keeping ice dragon bad boy, while those of you who haven't read Wings of Fire might appreciate me explaining the joke.
Going along with that theme, the younger betta is Glory, for her multicolored beauty. The older, blue betta is Tsunami. I already had a Tsunami once, but it's been a long while, so I think the name is fair game again.
In another one of my forbidden purchases, I picked up a bulb of Madagascar Lace. It truly is a glorious plant. I'm hoping it thrives well enough to divide and give me more. For a plant, it is expensive. Probably the most valuable item in my collection, aside from the ornaments.
Cerberus died. I haven't replaced him yet, since I've put a ban on my fish-spending through December. I tried banning my spending in November, but wasn't quite strong-willed enough. This time, I'm going with a different strategy. Every time I think of something that would make my fish better or my tanks more beautiful, I write it down on a shopping list. This way, I'll be able to remember it all, so it can still happen eventually, even if not right now, and I will also be able to prioritize goals when January comes.
In the meantime, I practice sitting still, counting and identifying and enjoying my fish, while an audiobook plays in the background. This way, I know what's going on with them, I'm more likely to pick up on something going wrong, and I'm less anxious. Observation is a great way to calm anxiety.
Confession time: I picked up on that tactic from Star Trek. You know the one where Data goes nuts because he realizes Starfleet is planning to relocate that one population on the world of eternal youth?
"Help me find the strength to keep you in this moment."
Yup. There's some good stuff in sci-fi!
Anyway, I have three fish who ought to have names, but don't just yet. Two female bettas, an adult and a juvenile, and a rainbow shark. The rainbow I didn't name because I was worried he might die on me. There were two primary possible causes for Durango and Stormcloud's unfortunate deaths. One was the temperature and the other was the Opaline gourami, who has been getting more aggressive as he grows. My money's on the Opaline, so the new shark went in the danio tank instead. Danios are less... specific... in their nipping and chasing games.
Given that the shark still lives, I think my guess was right.
Anyway, in keeping with the weather theme, I believe I'll name this one Cirrus. Readers of Wings of Fire might appreciate the irony of naming a fish after a surly, secret-keeping ice dragon bad boy, while those of you who haven't read Wings of Fire might appreciate me explaining the joke.
Going along with that theme, the younger betta is Glory, for her multicolored beauty. The older, blue betta is Tsunami. I already had a Tsunami once, but it's been a long while, so I think the name is fair game again.
In another one of my forbidden purchases, I picked up a bulb of Madagascar Lace. It truly is a glorious plant. I'm hoping it thrives well enough to divide and give me more. For a plant, it is expensive. Probably the most valuable item in my collection, aside from the ornaments.
Friday, November 9, 2018
Sharks and Puffers
Lost three fish this week. Ruby (the albino shark), Durango (the rainbow shark), and Cerberus (the leopard puffer).
Ruby had seemed perfectly healthy until the day I woke up to find her floating belly-up. She was still alive, but wasn't responding to the guppies nipping at her.
Durango has been hanging out near the heater in funny vertical positions. I tried increasing the heat, but it didn't seem to help any. When he finally died, I wasn't surprised.
Cerberus had a damaged fin. I don't know how that happened, but it might have been caused at the time I was adding salt to his tank. I was kinda hoping it was the fish equivalent of a charlie-horse that would wear off... no such luck. Probably is my fault though.
I tested the water in each of my tanks and discovered that the two that lost their sharks had harder water than the others. Not much harder, but still noticeable. I looked up tank parameters for sharks and... yeah, that one is on me. It took a while to find a conversion between DH and GH and the rest, but that water wasn't good for those fish.
I softened the water for the remaining fish, although they seem far less bothered, but I'm out of test strips and I'm on a "diet" of buying aquarium products. I've been stress spending, and that's not okay.
Anyway, once next year comes, I'll buy puffers and sharks again, because I really enjoy both. But no spending before that.
Ruby had seemed perfectly healthy until the day I woke up to find her floating belly-up. She was still alive, but wasn't responding to the guppies nipping at her.
Durango has been hanging out near the heater in funny vertical positions. I tried increasing the heat, but it didn't seem to help any. When he finally died, I wasn't surprised.
Cerberus had a damaged fin. I don't know how that happened, but it might have been caused at the time I was adding salt to his tank. I was kinda hoping it was the fish equivalent of a charlie-horse that would wear off... no such luck. Probably is my fault though.
I tested the water in each of my tanks and discovered that the two that lost their sharks had harder water than the others. Not much harder, but still noticeable. I looked up tank parameters for sharks and... yeah, that one is on me. It took a while to find a conversion between DH and GH and the rest, but that water wasn't good for those fish.
I softened the water for the remaining fish, although they seem far less bothered, but I'm out of test strips and I'm on a "diet" of buying aquarium products. I've been stress spending, and that's not okay.
Anyway, once next year comes, I'll buy puffers and sharks again, because I really enjoy both. But no spending before that.
Tuesday, October 30, 2018
Betta Breeding
 |
| Cour |
Eira was clearly unhappy about his presence when he was in the tank with her, and very interested in him when the divider was between them. I've never seen a more frightened fish than she, which is really saying something because I have an Opaline Gourami who hates my guts.
It was somewhat entertaining to watch her rapid figure-eights between the various tank ornaments, and to see her plan her breaths before diving to hide. Bettas and Gouramis are both labyrinth fish, who need air just as much as they need water. That means, Eira can't just hide and camp, she has to come into the open every minute or so. She would lead him through a series of figure-eights at depth, then dart across surface to the corner of the tank to breath while he tried to figure out where she'd gone. Then she'd dive again.
Obviously, I didn't let that go on for long. It was interesting to watch, but also somewhat alarming. I separated them and tried again the next night.
Anyway, after two unsuccessful attempts, I had a rather tense scare myself, when I couldn't find Eira anywhere. When I did find her (she slipped between the divider into Cour's side), she was lethargic and, at that point, I decided it just won't be happening this month. So, now Cour is off in his separate bowl and I'll let Eira rest for a while before I move her from the breeding tank.
 |
| Eira |
Friday, September 2, 2016
Love is Not Blind
They say love is blind. It isn't. Love is the most clear-sighted creature in the universe. Infatuation is blind, that's why people get confused.
Love is able to hang on through the greatest storms and in the most painful trials. Why? I don't know, but I think it has to do with hope.
I love PHC. PHC wasn't my idea, but once I got there, I loved it. Even when it exasperated me. Even when it betrayed me and left me to fend for myself. I still loved it enough to believe it could, and would, do better.
Striker might have killed me, given a chance, but he couldn't frighten me into running.
Trigger could try to manipulate me, playing on my fears to put distrust between me and my friends. Even so, he couldn't make me flee either.
I'm still here.
I'm not leaving.
I don't run from the battle. If ever I run, it's into the thickest part of the fight.
I don't run often. I'm not a berserker. But if I know where my core is, I know when and how to defend it. Evidently, my core is at PHC.
Love is able to hang on through the greatest storms and in the most painful trials. Why? I don't know, but I think it has to do with hope.
I love PHC. PHC wasn't my idea, but once I got there, I loved it. Even when it exasperated me. Even when it betrayed me and left me to fend for myself. I still loved it enough to believe it could, and would, do better.
Striker might have killed me, given a chance, but he couldn't frighten me into running.
Trigger could try to manipulate me, playing on my fears to put distrust between me and my friends. Even so, he couldn't make me flee either.
I'm still here.
I'm not leaving.
I don't run from the battle. If ever I run, it's into the thickest part of the fight.
I don't run often. I'm not a berserker. But if I know where my core is, I know when and how to defend it. Evidently, my core is at PHC.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)