reptile adventures at the library

When you think "library," do giant reptiles and squealing children come to mind? If not, then you have not been fortunate enough to witness Rich Ihle's Reptile Adventures this summer. The Phoenix Public Library hosts a fantastic kids summer program, where nearly every weekday there is someone cool presenting something awesome at various libraries across the city–and it's free to attend! We go to our local Ironwood branch every Wednesday at 2:00 p.m. to catch the fun. Yesterday's presentation was our favorite! Rich Ihle, the creator of Reptile Adventures brought his friends, small and large, for families to oooh and ahhh at. The kids were all pumped, and Rich delivered. His funny, friendly attitude, coupled with the confidence and sternness to keep the kids' energy from getting out of control made for an incredible experience.

Rich began his presentation by telling everyone a bit about himself and how he came to be the "reptile guy." It seems he had a deep love for these creatures from an early age and would spend all of his money on reptiles. He encouraged the kids to find their passion and open books to learn all they can about it, as he did, which I thought was a wonderful message. He also expressed the importance of caring for pets properly, and how much work they can be. The guy kept it real.

Like all good entertainers, Rich brought out the little guys first. We met Sunset the Bearded Dragon, Slim the Blue-tongued Skink, and Freckles, the Leopard Gecko, among other friends.

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I was totally impressed with them, but had no idea that the big guns were waiting in the wings.

Enter T-Bo the Rhinoceros Iguana.

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He was incredible! And incredibly huge! Rich's interactions with him were nothing short of a headliner at The Comedy Spot. The kids (and adults) were squealing and shaking with excitement. Rich took him for a ride on his cooler, a giant-iguana RV, of sorts.

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Just when we thought we'd seen the grand finale, out came Sunshine, who we got to touch.

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What an experience! You can still catch Rich and "The Ultimate Reptile Experience" at libraries around the valley during this week and next, the last week of the program. I would highly recommend it, even if you don't have kids! Rich and his friends are also available for birthday parties, school presentations, and special events.

debating the hunt with Greg (part 1): a different world

I pride myself on loving and accepting my family and friends, even if I don't agree with what they do. They extend me the same courtesy, and the result is that we can have educated respectful conversations about nearly anything, and we both come out smarter for it. I don't make public statements on social media about my leanings. I prefer to save those conversations for people (or blog followers) I can speak to "live," and not throw punches in the dark. Let me introduce you to my brother-in-law, Greg, who is an avid hunter and fisherman. Let me introduce you to Greg, whom I love and respect despite this fact. He is one of those people whom I have been able to have these intimate conversations with. You see, as a person heading toward a completely vegan lifestyle, and as a person who has never shot a gun and who has no desire to even catch-and-release, for fear I poked a bloody hole in the mouth of a sea-creature, and may have done psychological damage to said fish, I can't quite relate to Greg on this matter. With part a tone of conviction, and part solid facts and foundations, he has somehow presented to me on several occasions that hunting is okay–for him.

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I was a little girl who would order ciopinnio in a restaurant and bring most of it home in a doggie bag, only to attempt resuscitation and give freedom to the in-tact animals in a bowl of water once I got home. They received names. And then were promptly eaten by the cat as soon as I went to bed. Or perhaps they were fed to the cat...hmmm...

Greg and I are one and not the same.

I met my husband's brother when he was sixteen, early on in his hunting and fishing endeavors. He first became interested in waterfowl and upland game bird hunting during his sophomore year in high school. He did not come from this background (so hopefully genes have been spared), but was introduced to it by a schoolmate, Lorenzo. Having completed a hunter education class at the age of fifteen, Greg purchased his first State of California Hunting License. He continued to gain more knowledge and interest, then went on his first waterfowl hunt with Lorenzo and Lorenzo's father.

"After going on just one hunt, I knew this was something I wanted to do every season and would need the appropriate gear to do so (waders, decoys, gun, and dog)," Greg said. His parents allowed him to purchase his first shotgun at age seventeen, with money he saved from working. At the same time, Greg purchased (another point of contention that I understand but don't agree with) his first hunting dog, Ruger, a male black lab. As a high school graduation gift from his parents, Greg received a season-long duck blind lease.

Greg completed his first duck season with Ruger and "found a new appreciation for the sport after watching the dog (I had) trained perform in the field." Greg and Ruger continued to hunt successfully together until 2011, when Ruger developed a brain tumor, declined quickly, and had to be euthanized.

First hand, I know Ruger was not just a hunting dog, but an amazing companion for the whole family. We were all heartbroken when he succumbed to his tumor. My favorite memory of Ruger is when Greg left him in my care and I dressed him in a pink shirt and hair bow, took pictures, and gave one to Greg. It was my silent protest to their manly ways. Although Greg would dispute the fact, Ruger loved the temporary makeover.

I have to admit that although I may not agree with the actual hunting, what I've witnessed from Greg in terms of dog training is quite impressive. I can understand how training a dog to have restraint in the moment so as not to alert prey, then follow commands and retrieve and preserve the kill is something to be commended in terms of skill.

I asked Greg why he initially loved hunting:

"What sparked my interest about duck hunting, in particular, was that it was very challenging. First, you have to sound like a duck...some might think blowing a duck call is easy, (but) it takes years to master. A duck call is essentially a woodwind instrument that reacts to air pressure, the aperture of your mouth, and the movement of your tongue to create notes and tones that sound like a real duck. There is verbal communication between the hunter and the ducks. Being proficient at duck calling is a real talent.

I also fell in love with the fact that most duck hunting takes place early in the morning. Most hunters are in the duck blind well before the sun is up. You really get to experience nature wake up as the sun rises and everything begins to move about. I have always loved anything that involves being outdoors.

Once I acquired and trained my first hunting dog, Ruger, I was able to experience a whole new appreciation and passion for hunting. Watching your dog perform in the field is the equivalent of watching your children compete at sports. When they perform well, it makes you proud. It is amazing how much natural instinct and drive hunting dogs have. They LOVE to be out in the field hunting. Literally, they were bred for it. I can remember times when Ruger would see me loading up the truck the night before we were going hunting, and he would jump in the truck and refuse to get out. He did not want to get left behind."

It sounds so romantic when Greg describes it, I almost forget he's shooting down magnificent creatures. But then I snap back into my own reality and ask why. Why shoot animals? Why not skeet shooting? He explains,

"Skeet shooting is challenging in the aspect that it does take skill to hit a moving target, but it could never provide all of the tangible and intangible aspects hunting can provide. You could never learn to master the art of calling skeet, and I am not sure what dog would want to retrieve broken shards of clay skeet targets. Skeet shooting is a fun and enjoyable sport, but, in my opinion, it does not compare to hunting."

Point taken, but I, personally, still don't get it. Killing animals for sport? Yes, they clean and eat their own haul, so it doesn't go to "waste," per se. It's hard for me to swallow (no pun intended) the loss of life.

So, I respectfully have more questions for Greg. Do you?

for the birds: nesting kindergartners

Have I mentioned how much I love my kids' school? Horizon Community Learning Center is a pre-K-12 charter school here in Ahwatukee (Phoenix) that we discovered for our eldest five years ago when he was entering the sixth grade. Porter started there this year for kindergarten. We love it in every way, and the project I witnessed today is a perfect example of why we feel that way.

Each quarter, the K-8th grade classes do in-depth studies on specific subjects or themes. They work on their studies every day of that quarter. This is called "project group." At the end of the quarter, the students present to family and friends what they have learned. It's always impressive, but to see these five- and six- year olds speak in front of a large group of mostly adults, sometimes with self-created props or a PowerPoint presentation goes beyond my comprehension. The kids are truly awesome and are that way because the team of teachers is phenomenal and the parents support the effort. As advertised, the school really is a community.

This quarter, the kindergartners are studying animal habitats with a special focus on birds, a subject I shared about several weeks ago. They have studied real bird skeletons and labeled all of the parts, then compared them to human skeletons. They dissected bird feathers. They used beak models created by the teachers so they could learn what types of beaks are beneficial (or not) in a given situation. They analyzed body coverings. Today, they built nests. In trees. Have I mentioned how much I love my kids' school?

The kindergarten teachers assembled a "forest" of trees (large tree branches propped up on their ends and supported in some way incomprehensible to me). Porter's teacher (who we love beyond words) told me that the teachers were reported by someone for suspicious activity for poaching branches off city trees at 6:00 a.m....oh, what they do for the kids! Containers of nesting materials were placed nearby, and the students were divided up into groups, presumably bird families.

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Oh, but it wasn't that simple. Since birds only have one beak, the students could only use one hand to pick up, transport, and build with each piece of material they chose. Even if they knew how to tie their shoes, they couldn't use those skills. It would be an unfair advantage! The teacher caught them cheating a few times and made them remove what they'd done with two hands. Fantastic! I totally caught Porter cheating–not keeping his extra hand behind his back or in his pocket as suggested–but I kept my beak out of the bird business, not wanting to be a nagging hen.

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As if that wasn't enough, the teacher simulated wind by shaking the tree ever so slightly. Would the nest hold up? If not, it was back to the start.

I just happened upon this scene when I was at the school volunteering for another kindergarten program. It was lucky and timely, considering I just posted yesterday about the importance of exposing your children to animals at an early age.

There is just so much that this activity teaches the children: first-hand bird knowledge, engineering, teamwork, self control...the list goes on. Not to mention that it gets them up out of their chairs and in the real (protected kindergarten playground) world. And what I love most is that it teaches them empathy for birds. It really illustrates for them in a hands-on way how hard it is to build a nest and how much work goes into it. I'll bet they think twice next time they have an opportunity to nail a bird nest with a baseball.

Original content by well minded word

Cliff Swallows, Season 2

For the last year, I've been observing a suspicious hive-ish thing mounted in the corner of the entry to one of my client's homes. I never noticed any inhabitants, but I imagined them to be giant hornets that would someday stage a sneak-attack on me as I enter this family home. A few weeks ago, I noticed bird droppings beneath it, so I hoped the birds had made a meal of the deadly insects. But, then, I noticed more bird droppings on the opposite side of the entry way. With great fear and a horror film soundtrack playing in my head, I looked up and saw... Image

GASP! A mama bird peeking her head out of a new deadly-insect nest!

I had to reconsider. Could this be a bird nest?

I called my client to whose dwelling this mysterious deadly-insect-bird-habitat was attached. "Oh, yes, I know about it..." she said. Turns out it's a legit bird nest suddenly built next door to the one that's been vacant for a year, and there are baby birds (awwwwww), and she promised that she had no intention to remove or destroy the nests in the near future. Whew!

Over the past couple of weeks, I've been saying hello to the mama, who is always peeking out to say hello to me, quite socially. Sometimes she flies out and then back. And sometimes she just stays put and blinks at me.

I wondered what type of birds they could be. I'd never seen these kind of mud-nests before, so I did a bit of research. I now declare them Cliff Swallows, in my non-expert, expert opinion.

The Cliff Swallow does live in the desert (I got my information from DesertUSA.com). It builds these nests against buildings and bridges, now, but, originally, they built them on the undersides of cliffs and outcroppings in the foothills of the mountains in the western U.S. As man has built, they have built upon our buildings. Good for them.

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A male and female will become a pair, if only for a short while, and build these spectacular nests out of about a thousand mud daubs. Sometimes, in true HGTV-fashion, they will rebuild and refurbish a nest from a previous year, which is what I suspect our little Cliff Swallows have done, with a new house next door. These birds live a life akin to a soap opera, often falling out of their nests while copulating before the dwelling is complete. The passion doesn't last long, as the male is soon off to discover other "opportunities." In the meantime, the female switches eggs with the more desirable eggs in another nest and might have the same done to her. The happy couple will raise their small flock of two to five fledglings, almost always from different parentage. Scandalous! Did you set your DVR?

According to DesertUSA, the little ones should soon be embarking on their own (I saw the mama giving flying lessons today), and the nests abandoned. It seems that once the fledglings can fly, they become independent and move out for good. If only humans could attain such lofty goals.

I'll miss them when they go, but I'll look forward to Cliff Swallows, Season 3, next year. Perhaps there will be another apartment or two constructed. We'll have Melrose Place all over again.

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