It's Nesting Season!

Living in Boise during the spring nesting season is kind of like starring in an Alfred Hitchcock movie, except the Canadian Geese that take over this city are not very graceful. And they leave a lot of green poop behind.

You might think, "They're just birds. How bad can it be? They can't really do anything to you."

But you would be wrong. They don't care that humans are the bigger species and that we could wring their little necks with our bare hands. They will attack anything that appears to be moving. Geese are bullies, especially when they are protecting their nests.

They don't go out into the wilderness to nest. They nest in parks, near ponds, by rivers. Wherever there are people enjoying the beautiful outdoors, there will be a nesting goose.

From the stories my husband, Dan, tells, I am pretty sure most of Boise's Canadian Geese hang out at his place of employment. He has had many run-ins with the strange creatures.

When we were dating, the first story Dan ever told me was a crazy goose story. He was walking to his car, and these two geese were flying low. When they saw him, they swooped down and almost knocked him over before they flew back up overhead. In other words, the geese "buzzed" my husband.

Another time, Dan was driving through his work parking lot. He was in a moving vehicle, you'd think the safest place possible. Not so. A fearless (but stupid) goose charged at Dan's car, forcing him to swerve out of the way.

The other place one can be attacked by geese if one desires is the Boise Greenbelt. For instance, I was on a very populated stretch of the path the other day, and I walked by three geese guarding one female. Every time people would pass, the bouncer geese would puff up and ruffle their feathers, as if that looks intimidating to us sentient beings.

Dan and I go running near his work on the weekends. Once during a run, we met "The Exorcist Goose." He flipped his head around on his neck, glared at us from his contortionist-like upside down position, and hissed at us as we jogged by.

That was enough to make me do some research on how to deal with these suicidal, possibly demon-possessed waterfowl. It turns out that dealing with aggressive ganders is similar in technique to dealing with cougars, which I absolutely never want to have to do.

1. Look it in the eye.
2. Calmly and slowly back away.
3. Act naturally.
4. Give nesting geese room.

You should never panic, run away, or turn your back on aggressive geese. However, I do all three of these things on a regular basis, considering most of my goose encounters occur while running.

Last weekend, Dan and I were out running again, and we heard this post-apocalyptic chorus of geese as we approached the final pond on our route. Then we heard hissing to our right.

There it was, an unhappy protector goose waddling swiftly toward us.

"I'm looking him in the eye, and it's not helping!" I shouted. (Oh yeah. You're also not supposed to yell frantically when approached by geese.) "What should we do?"

According to the goose experts, we probably should have talked to it calmly and backed away slowly, all the while maintaining eye contact.

Here's what we actually did.

We ran faster.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

Happy Easter! (RE-POST from Easter 2013)

I realized, in looking over my past posts, that I have never blogged on Easter, meaning I don't have to rack my brain for a unique angle. I thought I'd go with the "My Favorite Easter Memories" theme. So, here are "My Favorite Easter Memories":

1. Waving palm branches on "Pom-pom Sunday"
This is technically a pre-Easter memory. But, when I was a kid, Palm Sunday was just as big of a deal as Easter. When else were children given free reign to journey through the church aisles, sometimes following a live animal like a donkey (or a goat if a donkey wasn't available), waving around large props? By the way, I used to call Palm Sunday, "Pom-pom Sunday." How cute is that?

2. Easter sunrise services
I loved attending sunrise services even though, any other Sunday morning, getting me out of bed was as much fun as having ten cavities filled without Novocaine. The first year my parents finally gave in and allowed me to go to a sunrise service (probably thinking I wouldn't wake up anyway, and that would be that), I jumped out of bed shouting, "He is risen! He is risen!" just to prove my point.

When we moved to Idaho, the sunrise services in our town were held on the canyon. Then, I was really glad I got out of bed that first Easter so many years ago.

3. Pantyhose and white pumps
When I was eight years old, I was allowed to wear pantyhose and a pair of white pumps for the first time on Easter Sunday. (My mother made an exception to her no-white-shoes-before-Memorial-Day rule only on Easter.) I also wore a pretty yellow dress with a white-striped skirt, and my mom and dad gave me a Precious Moments Bible which I still have to this day.

4. Easter egg hunts
My parents would take two cars to church. My mother would rush home to "meet" the Easter Bunny, and I (and eight years later, my brother) would come home and hunt Easter eggs. This elusive Easter Bunny would also hide small trinkets inside our house. I suppose it never occurs to kids that all of their favorite gift-receiving holidays consist of strange hybrid, mythical type creatures breaking into their homes and leaving toys behind, kind of like strangers handing out candy to children on the streets only magnified by ten. (Stranger Danger, anyone?) 

5. Family pictures 
Following the Easter egg hunts, we took a family photo. It was the only time my brother would wear something other than polyester basketball shorts and a T-shirt. And sometimes, my grandmother was visiting from Illinois. We would take several photos because that is how long it took to figure out the camera's self-timer, and my brother and I would groan and whine about wanting to eat our candy.

But today, I sure am glad we took those photographs.

 

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan

Shall We Burn Some Books?

I am not a fan of censorship. I am not a fan of discouraging children of any age from reading. Unless you have been living under a rock the last couple of weeks (in the Treasure Valley, that is), you have probably heard about the controversy surrounding Sherman Alexie's The Absolute Diary of a Part-Time Indian. It has been pulled from the Meridian Schools curriculum, and the district will be reviewing more than two hundred books on its supplemental reading list.

The claim, of course, is that it's pornographic because that is how we educators roll. We love to expose children to pornography. Haven't you read the Common Core Standards? That's the ultimate goal, people.

But seriously folks, if we public school teachers really wanted to teach pornography, we would just hand your kids copies of Playboy or Penthouse and say, "Just read the articles, dude."

If I were king of the world, I would ban anything by Rush Limbaugh and Glenn Beck. I see more of a problem with people (children and adults) being influenced by that conspiratorial, hate-mongering rhetoric than reading a few passages about masturbation.

But I would not stop my (very fictional) children from reading super right-wing, conservative authors because the same principle applies. Censorship sucks, and a well-rounded education means you look at many perspectives, you learn about many cultures, and you experience art and aestheticism from several angles, not just the ones certain people define as morally responsible (whatever that means).

I know what you're thinking, "But Becky, you are a Baptist preacher's kid. How did you come to have such a loosey-goosey philosophy on education and life?"

Here's a shocker: Not every Christian household tries to shelter their children. Some Christians still believe the public school system (with all of its ungodly secularism) is worthwhile. That's how I was raised.

My mother and father were avid readers of all kinds of literature. My mother, with a mischievous glimmer in her eye, handed me a copy of The Catcher in the Rye when I was twelve. She insisted I read Judy Blume books so that I could learn about my burgeoning hormones. Occasionally, I would hear about books that had been banned from school libraries (usually from my mother—she just wanted me to read). Guess who would go check them out right away? This girl!

I'm still that way.

A few years ago, a bunch of Christians organized a boycott of the movie The Golden Compass and of the fantasy series His Dark Materials because of its atheist author and—gasp—thematic material that might be considered anti-Christian in some circles. Guess who purchased the books for her husband's birthday that year? This girl!

The Rediscovered Bookshop of Boise recently posted this on Facebook: "Censorship is lame, which is why we're fully stocked on all sorts of Sherman Alexie here at Rediscovered. Grow your brains and read freely, Boise!" My reaction? "Heck yeah!"

Alexie is in good company. Other books that have been challenged in schools throughout the years include To Kill a Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Catch-22, The Lord of the Rings, A Separate Peace, The Awakening, and Green Eggs and Ham. (I'm not kidding about this last one—on accounts of "homosexual seduction.")

"At least they are not burning the books, like in Fahrenheit 451," Dan, my husband, said of this recent controversy, "or like Hitler, where they would have those big book-burnings," he paused, "like in Indiana Jones."

"You're getting your history from sci-fi and fantasy again," I said. "Besides, book-burning is the next step."

"It's a slippery slope . . ."

It seems to me that the people who are so quick to defend their rights (You can't take my guns! You can't invade my privacy! You can't force me to have health insurance!) are the same people who want to put a limit on free speech and artistic freedom.

If inundating children with pornographic material is not our intent as public school teachers, what are we trying to accomplish by exposing them to such heretical literature?

Here is one idea.

Maybe we want them to learn about art as a reflection of culture and society. But let's face it.  Sometimes culture and society are not so beautiful.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.

iPod Crashes and Caffeinated Fridays

Now that my elementary spring programs and festivals are over, I am having a difficult time deciding what to do with my lunch breaks. Who knew that forty-five minutes would feel like a luxury? For the past three months, every break and prep has been filled with blocking rehearsals, art meetings, costume fittings, and solo practices. Not to mention, I was performing in a community theater production of my own, so I spent most of my evenings at rehearsals. I also survived on less sleep than usual.

Now that I am able to get the recommended eight hours of sleep per night, I find myself more tired than usual to the extent that I almost fall asleep driving to work. And for some reason, our faculty room coffee inventory has been non-existent the last few weeks.

Today (Friday) was especially bad. I thought I might look over some sheet music during lunch, but I dozed off while peeling my orange. So I decided to make some black tea to perk myself up. I even added Irish Cream Coffee-Mate to trick myself into believing I was drinking coffee. Apparently, we keep fake creamer stocked in our faculty room but not coffee. (The tea did help, and now I am at Starbucks ingesting more caffeine so that I can stay awake while I finish this blog post.)

Once properly caffeinated, I decided to load some podcasts onto my iPod. I plugged my iPod into my laptop and got a "there is something wrong with this device" message. I attempted to scan and repair it only to find every single file deleted.

My "iPod Just Crashed" expression.

I quickly messaged my husband, Dan, hoping that the stray kiddos roaming the halls wouldn't hear me swearing at my computer. I had the following conversation with him.

[3:04:58 PM] Becky Duggan: My iPod just crashed and is wiped clean!
[3:05:10 PM] Becky Duggan: There are absolutely no files on it!
[3:05:32 PM] Dan Duggan: Have you tried unplugging it and plugging it back in?
[3:05:43 PM] Becky Duggan: Yes.
[3:06:49 PM] Dan Duggan: Have you looked at it in Windows Explorer?
[3:07:15 PM] Becky Duggan: Yes. And I unplugged it. There is no music on it.
[3:07:18 PM] Becky Duggan: Nothing.
[3:08:05 PM] Becky Duggan: It said there was a problem with it and it needed to be scanned so I did and then it crashed. I unplugged it. It was wiped clean.
[3:08:08 PM] Becky Duggan: Gone.
[3:08:21 PM] Becky Duggan: Plugged it back in. Gone.
[3:09:03 PM] Dan Duggan: I might be able to find some kind of recovery software.
[3:09:32 PM] Becky Duggan: Anything I need to do to not screw that up?
[3:12:09 PM] Dan Duggan: Probably just unplug it and don't touch it. There isn't much you can do with it now anyway.
[3:12:32 PM] Becky Duggan: I already loaded a podcast onto it.
[3:15:03 PM] Dan Duggan: Yeah, don't do that.
[3:15:16 PM] Dan Duggan: If you put new files on it will overwrite the space where the old files were.
[3:19:33 PM] Becky Duggan: Well, I already did. Shit.
[3:20:11 PM] Dan Duggan: Don't worry about it too much. I might not be able to do anything, but the less you do the more likely I'll be able to get it back.

The jury is still out as to whether or not any of my music will be recovered. But if I have to copy all of my music back onto my iPod, at least now I know what I can do during my lunch breaks for the next few weeks.

For the latest blog updates, visit and "like" Rebecca Turner-Duggan.