I'm sorry I missed last week; we were all still recovering from the hospital stay and our illnesses, and I didn't even realize it until Monday.
Wednesday night, I used Captain America as an example in a zoology debate with my husband. Yay! It made him happy, even if I was using a superhero to argue against him.
The subject in question was boreal wood frogs. Yes, I compared Cap to a frog. Don't kill me. See, these frogs--the only amphibian native to Alaska--survive our winters by burrowing into the mouldering leaves and topsoil, and freezing solid. In the spring, when the ground thaws, the frogs thaw too and go on their merry way.
We've been going back and forth for several years now on whether the frogs die and resurrect, or are just hibernating. I think we have actually switched positions a time or two, but right now, Matt is holding that they die and come back to life, because brain and heart are both frozen, while I'm saying that they go into a state of suspended animation, like Han Solo or Captain America.
Yes, I am aware that I'm using purely fictional examples to try to support a scientific argument.
Neither of us "won," and I doubt either ever really will unless we some day become friends with a Catholic theologian well versed in Alaskan amphibians. Not that we mind; it's fun to hash out the different sides and try to come up with new proofs one way or the other.
The topic came up last night as a sort of rabbit trail from a song I had been singing to Little Bear and gotten stuck in Matt's head. It was the first time he'd heard "Five Green Speckled Frogs," and if you're familiar with it, you can probably empathize with him. Unfortunately for Matt, Little Bear really likes the song, so he will be hearing it again.
Speaking of songs, I'm looking for the title and author (songwriter?) of one of my favorite lullabies; I'm pretty sure there is an illustrated version out there, and I'd love to get it for Little Bear's birthday, but I need to know the name in order to do that. Does this sound familiar to anyone?
Over the crust of the hard white snow, the little feet of the reindeer go. Hush, hush, the winds are low, and the fine little bells are ringing. Nothing can reach thee of woe or harm; safe is the shelter of mother's arm. Hush, hush, the wind's a charm, and mother's voice is singing.
Go visit ConversionDiary.com for more quick takes, and have a great weekend!