Bearing the Winterlong

The week between Christmas and the New Year has flashed by in a haze of warmth, love, family, and work. We have been twice as busy at Pizza Hut as normal, and contrary to what you may be thinking GM seems to be the only person surprised by this, if his schedule was anything to judge by. We've had another person unexpectedly jump ship (read: stop showing up, and therefore quit), but we've picked up two more drivers (one is Maverick, he says his parents pretty much named him straight from Top Gun) and, despite fervent pleas, no counter help. The Waitresses are not happy.
Christmas was a wonderful day, and Patrick and I spent a fair amount of time on the road between families, though we didn't mind too much. I got a big stock pot, so that I can make chicken and dumplings (I previously did not have a pot big enough). Patrick got a car jack, he was very pleased. Emily has sworn it will not happen again. I also got a ton of yarn from Jim's sister Colleen, who very deeply questioned my mother behind my back about what to get for me. And, because apparently it screamed out to my mother for me, I got a Halo edition of Risk. I am making plans to get a few friends together to play, perhaps next week. We shall see.
It was straight back to work after Christmas Day, and the snow started falling halfway into my shift. I left early, around 1:30, and already the roads were dangerous. Our poor drivers, I felt so bad for them.
New Year's Eve was also spent at work, although we were so slow I got out at 8 rather than 10 (because CSRs are expensive on the labor charts) and managed to make it to my Uncle's house with Patrick to ring in the new year with horns, pots, and wooden spoons.
And, once again, it was right back to work today for more CSRing joy. Last night I got a job title upgrade, and now I am no longer a "CSR" but now I clock in under "Dispatch". What this really means is that pay stays the same (though the computer thinks I should be getting tips) but now I have the added ability of assigning and returning delivery drivers. This takes a small load from the managers, and lumps it on top of me. I don't mind, really. When I've been standing at the oven for three hours, I'll take any excuse to move away for a few seconds.

Did you know that bullfrogs are cannibalistic? (I know, I'm great at segues) They are. Apparently. Adults acutely so. I found (though extensive online research) that as long as the tadpoles and young frogs have enough sustenance to keep themselves alive, adult bullfrogs can survive entirely on their own young. Since females lay up to 20,000 eggs approximately three times a year, I can see how cannibalism isn't such a bad way to go, but...
Tim ate Samson!
I was going to feed by amphibian trio last night (I fish out Hrairoo and Samson to feed them separately so Tim doesn't steal their crickets) and I realized that I was missing a frog. After carefully removing all the bits and bobs from the tank, all that was left was an inch and a half of vaguely murky water and two frogs. I really was missing one.
Samson was always the master of hiding, so at first I was a little surprised, and thought maybe he'd been in one of the plants I pulled out and he'd gotten removed accidentally. But no, he was well and truly gone. Patrick and I checked around on the floor and under the dresser and radiator vent, thinking perhaps he'd accidentally escaped somehow. No little froggy corpse presented itself. So, after a quick question to my dad (who didn't know), I poked around on google.
Bullfrogs will eat practically anything they can fit into their mouths: birds, lizards, fish, turtles, different frogs... but especially other bullfrogs. A study done in an Arizona habitat revealed that most of the, uh, biological matter found in adult bullfrog intestines was, in fact, other bullfrogs. In the wild they eat almost constantly. And seeing as how Samson was only about 1.5 times bigger than the crickets I feed to Tim, I have to admit that I'm not too surprised that Tim turned his hungry little eyes on poor Samson. So I have resolved to give Tim an extra cricket every other day (he normally gets one a day) to try to curb his cannibalistic tendencies. Hrairoo, on the other hand, is getting two crickets a day in an effort to bulk him up a bit. Perhaps I'll start getting the little ones dusted...
Dusting crickets just means that they get brushed with a calcium-enriched supplement powder to help improve your pet's diet.
Speaking of crickets, this batch chirp. A lot. This is new to me, all of my previous crickets were the silent, rustling type. Tim has also taken to croaking randomly, though as he's still only two inches long, his voice is pretty high-pitched.

Kobold has been thoroughly enjoying the snow, though it is rapidly disappearing. He bounds through it like a rabbit, and then chases after the bits his paws throw up. And, since this throws up more bits, he chases those too. The best way to play with him in the snow is to throw a snowball in his face, he loves it. Weirdo.

Here is to everyone who made my 2010 wonderful, and here is to the hope that there will be even more people on that list for 2011.

I'll never say goodbye to our pride forever.
And I feel like them, but I don't know why.
I'll never say goodbye 'cause I can't forget her.
but I feel like them, but I don't know why.

"Winterlong" ~Beat Crusaders