a peek inside the fishbowl

Awhile back I wrote about our family quest to remove paper towels from our lives, and I’m happy to say that things are going well.

I now gladly skip this Wall o’Paper at the grocery store. And I don’t miss the added expense either:

Here’s a rather obvious observation: I figured out that the best way to stop using paper towels is by getting rid of the paper towel roll that has been prominently displayed until this point. (Duh!) For some reason I didn’t think to do this at first, and it wasn’t until the youngest instinctively grabbed some to mop up a spill I realized it had to go.

In my first post I wrote about a reusuable cloth I bought to replace the rolls upon rolls of paper towels that we use for window washing. I bought another item that has proven to be pretty good too: SKOY cleaning cloths. The Skoy cloths are the first thing I reach for if I need a paper towel, and I have to say, I’m not missing those fat white rolls very much at all.

Some challenges and observations:

• The Skoy cloths come in a package of four, which is great. We keep two under the kitchen sink and two for bathroom cleaning. (One is designated General Cleaning and the other is for the Toilet Only.) Note to self: buy new rubber gloves.
• The Skoy cloths are ideal for wiping and cleaning, not for scrubbing. I wouldn’t use them for bathtub rings or the shower floor for example. They’re best used in combination with scrub brushes.
• The worst case paper towel-related scenario came true, creating the ultimate Skoy test. This may be TMI but Piper barfed – on the carpet – and someone had to mop it up. (That someone was me OF COURSE.) The Skoy cloth was ok for this purpose, just ok. It got the job done but wasn’t ideal. The advantage of paper towels is that they’re thinner, making them a little more flexible for cleaning up something, er, chunky and moist… that needs to be scooped up off the floor. A thinner rag would have been better, but this situation is not a deal breaker.
• The Skoy cloths can be popped in the dishwasher for a quickie cleaning or tossed in with the regular laundry. Easy stuff! And when they’ve lived out their lives I can toss them in the green bin.

It’s been remarkable, really, although I’m sure that my grandmother is turning over in her grave because I actually spent hard-earned MONEY on cleaning cloths instead of using old rags I can use for nothing. Here’s the thing though… we don’t actually have a lot of old rags lying around the house. Most of our clothing gets donated, and even the stuff that doesn’t get donated may not have the absorptive qualities I need to actually clean something.

You know what really helps? If the kids know exactly which cloths to use to mop up a spill and where to find them. I keep a basket of rags and cleaning supplies under the kitchen sink, so that’s the first place they go (and I don’t have to worry about them using my white towels in the linen closet to sop up a puddle of melted chocolate ice cream).

So that’s it! There are no more paper towels around here at Casa Fishbowl! It feels kind of liberating to be free of them, and to have reclaimed a bit of counter space too.

We came home last night into a dark house. It was late, and I was tired, but it occurred to me that I wanted to see if our baby robins were ok.

I’ve never looked into the nest at night before. I was wary of shining a flashlight on the chicks at a vulnerable time and scaring the mother, but last night I suddenly wanted to see what was going on in there so I asked Mark to get his little light and have a peek.

I watched from the window as he peered into the hedge from the front porch. I knew something was amiss as soon as he passed the light over the hedge. It was sadly empty. I could see it was so, even from my perspective.

Mark checked the area for signs of carnage: feathers, mangled baby bodies, anything that would indicate a predator had attacked while we were away. There was nothing. I double checked the area again this morning and this is what I saw:

We consulted our bird books and the interwebs and learned that baby birds can indeed fledge this early. They can’t fly, but they leave anyway, which means the parents keep feeding them for a couple of additional weeks while the babies hop around the ground and their flight feathers develop.

Here’s an interesting way to think about the nest: it’s just a cradle, not a home.

–

I woke up this morning, groggy, with the pillow on my head. Strangely, I was having a dream about tweeting Nestwatch updates. I took the pillow off my head, and as my eyes adjusted to the bright morning light I realized what had really woke me: a robin’s call. A singular loud chirp that was unlike anything I had heard recently. I got up, got dressed, and went downstairs. There in the backyard, in the middle of the grass, sat a small brown lump. My eyes were still blurry from sleep. What was that? It wasn’t until I saw a patch of red skimming the lawn nearby that I realized what it was.

At least one of the babies, from what I can see, is alive and living in the undergrowth of our backyard. This is where I found him this morning after a bit of searching. He was hard to spot; sitting so still. His feathers blended in perfectly with the dappled light of the morning.

Good luck little baby. I’m rooting for you.

Edited to add: Mark made a video!

Food fight: Rising income disparity and the struggle for higher wages http://t.co/dzdkKZ5Qc5 #fastfoodglobal pic.twitter.com/LrqbfZD5SP

— The Globe and Mail (@globeandmail) May 16, 2014

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