Emerging from the void into...?

 Oh my gosh, they don't call it the "Christmas Void" for nothing! That space between Christmas and New Year's is a trip! I know, I know, most people dread getting back into the grind, but I'm so eager to know what day it is. New Year's week has been easier, since most days have actually had a weekday flavor. But there's no denying everything goes wonky midweek and stays that way. So... a couple of normal days here and there. 

Having killed myself to make a magical Christmas day (and adjacent holidays) shortly after about three hours of working on Hannukah corvid cards, I am spent. My dopamine is banked out for at least 2025 and a goodly chunk of 2026. I have yet to be able to hold interest or focus on much of anything. 

On top of this, Allan chose this week to (1) contract a minor respiratory illness, that (2) seems to have caused her a few nights of anxious insomania that piled onto the usual New Year's Fireworks 

***

Backstory: After a particularly bad spell of anxiety a few years back, the sleeping arrangements got shuffled around a bit. While we had been adamant about "sleep training" and keeping Allan in her room for several years, there came a breaking point - largely when I realized that having to come into her room and sleep on her ungodly uncomfortable mattress and then try (often unsuccessfully) to sneak out only to be summoned back again was actually a fair bit more exhausting than just not having to leave my room. 

So, desperate for some sleep, we arranged a sleeping spot for her in our room that didn't stick. She started climbing into bed. Eventually, Andrew started retreating to the guest room (no complaints - three people in that bed was torture!)

And over time it became easier just to accept this from the beginning. 

Works for Allan - she doesn't like sleeping alone. And I agree, it's a little weird that kids who don't want to sleep alone are supposed to sleep alone while adults who do want to sleep alone are expected to sleep with a partner (as if complementary temperature, mattress, and white noise preferences is really the basis of a true and deep love)

Works for Andrew - presumably. He gets to sleep on his own schedule in a nice bed, and I still come down in the mornings with coffee and all. He can stay out late at night without needing to be back to help Allan winddown after I've gone to bed, and he doesn't have to sleep on the floor in her room or try to squish into bed with her and me. 

Works for me... usually! 

I'm one of those adults who really really does better sleeping alone. It's hard to explain that in a world that has certain norms about "what partners do", but honestly, most of my female friends are very onboard with separate bedrooms, so I'm hardly alone here. 

 For a number of reasons: 

1. To really get comfortable, I need to be surrounded by a well-appointed fortress of pillows that take up a decent chunk of the top portion of the bed. Because Allan is smaller than an adult and sleeps in odd positions, she often sleeps more like a family pet: either resting her head on my lap or sleeping at the foot of the bed. 

It's either this or on very particular couches. I have needs! They are excessive!

2. I'm a light sleeper with pretty extreme misophonia. I have spent nights crying over snoring-interrupted-sleep, as well as hit snoring sleeping partners much harder than I care to admit. The sensory squick of ear plugs is constantly at odds with the misphonia. I've tried all manner of things to get comfy, but it's very hit or miss.  Allan doesn't usually snore and she's generally pretty tolerant of louder background and white noise.

3. I start out cold when I'm falling asleep but then get quite warm over the night. In an ideal world, I sleep in a well-warmed room with two blankets, then let the room cool down about 5-10 degrees overnight and let the top blanket slip off. This doesn't work with another adult in the room, as they add instead of subtract body heat and may have their own needs in terms of warmth. Allan is small, sleeps at the foot of the bed, and doesn't add heat. 

4. Allan and I actually do have pretty identical schedules, so there are relatively few interruptions that come from people having different schedules. 

5. In my perfect sleep world, I probably would go back to playing tv or sleep music in the background. And if I couldn't sleep, I'd pop on a light and read in bed for a while. I still don't get to do this, but maybe some day. Because I'm allergic to the cat, I can't just wander down and sleep on the couch like the rest of the family. But who knows. Maybe some day the cat will get that allergen vaccine they were talking about in 2025 before it just never got talked about again (ah well).

Honestly, this is pretty much how she still sleeps!

So, anyways, it mostly works out. 

But of course, sometimes, Allan has bad anxiety or simply can't sleep... and then it works quite the opposite for me. And while - as the light sleeper - I was often the one beckoned to deal with middle of night anxiety, being the bedmate guarantees I am in it for the long haul when it happens now.

 A trade off. 

This was one of those weeks where the sleep was spotty to non-existent for several days in a row and I'm kind of beat. 

I'm mostly reloading Neko Atsune every half hour to see the cats that have come into my yard, pacing around, looking out the window at birds, and occasionally dropping into a pocket of reading focus before getting distracted again. But not without family enrichment. 

For frolicsome merriment (and to knock off some homeschool curriculum requirements), we went to the Burke Museum of Natural History and Culture on the day after Boxing Day

It was markedly less hellacious than the Pacific Science Center, although I still found it moderately overstimulating as I often do with museums. That said, they did a great job with having interactive stations for kids Allan's age as well as some real-time windows into the work of archeologists, paleontologists and natural scientists. They have people working behind windows on all the floors. 

In case you ever find a dead bird, you can donate it to the Burke by the way! They have tons of taxidermized avians. This is definitely an easier way to go birding! 

Though, it's a little more engaging to go birding when they move!

And make a lot of noise!

And stir just a little terror in your heart!

Speaking of birding: between a few holiday gift certificates, we're set to learn some more stuff! In addition to an Audubon course in the coming weekends, there's a lot online! 

With one set, Allan and I decided to purchase a Gull Identification Course from Cornell Lab (ornithology pe eps). I'm not sure if she'll ever actually want to do it, but she was excited about the idea at the time. 

I had more credit, so I decided to try another course: 

What came together only after I applied my credits to this class: it also apparently is based around a $150 textbook. They don't hide this. It's in the very last line of the class description. But I dunno. Either I didn't read the whole description, or I read it and then forgot. Or I thought they were saying they'd include the textbook related information on the website. Hard to say really. Gassy brain, I guess. 

 Now I know why it's described as "college level": To take it, you need to spend absurd sums of money on the reading materials! Admittedly, the textbook is reasonable for college textbooks, but I was expecting to walk away with an entire ornithological experience with no money out of my pocket. 

Ah well. I mean, yes, the "class" has extra online content, but the bulk of the extras are quizzes about material in the book, so it's probably not worth much without the main material. 

I want to be clear that I usually did the reading in college (because anxiety + hyperfixation = above and beyond most of the time), but in a lot of college classes, you absolutely can get enough to pass a test just from the lectures. Often they are intended to reinforce each other. From what I can tell, this isn't the case here.

There aren't actually lectures in this "college level class," although there are a variety of supplementary materials that are interesting enough. Just not covering what's obviously in the textbook itself (based on trying one of the quizzes). Truly supplementary. Ah well. I wouldn't buy it again - and definitely not at full price - but I expect the book will scratch an itch or two. 

 Next time, I'm just asking for a gift certificate for the book!

Anyways, I'm sure that I'll enjoy the cobbled together YouTube videos and fun infographics until my medium-heavily used copy arrives, but no rush. No rush. 

Because I'm reading... Ravens in Winter, by Bernd Heinrich now. 

"I have to make three more trips, each time carrying about seventy-five pounds of frozen meat in a burlap bag slung over my shoulder. All of this is unpaid volunteer work, of course. It is fun. What I do will never have any major significance in the scheme of things. So, it had better be fun..."

"... We try to justify what we do by trying to make it sound as if it has some 'useful'. But, really, we do it because it is fun. Nature is entertainment - the greatest show on earth. And that is not trivial, because what is life, if it isn't fun? I think that the greatest contribution we could make would be to help make life more interesting."

Heinrich is a seminal source in modern corvid research. One of his other books, Mind of the Raven, is repeatedly referenced in every other piece of corvid scholarship I've wandered across. This one is the first of his raven books.

 Heinrich's mind is gracefully systematic, and his observations are so clear and patient. And somehow within in that, he writes a rollicking tale full of suspense and character. 

The story itself is a bit of a biological mystery novel. In the early 1980's he noticed that ravens seem to call each other to a carcass, which goes against what seems like their best interests (stay quiet, cache as much as possible and not share). As any normal person would do, he then begins years of putting out carcasses under different circumstances to watch what they do. Do they always "recruit" and why? When? Is it all ravens or only the young who travel in packs? (spoiler alert: seems that once ravens are coupled they vigilantly maintain their territory, but juveniles have a few years of travelling in roving packs before they're sexually mature, and bringing numbers to a meal makes it harder for the adult territory holders to chase them off)

I'm about ten pages from done and assume I'll then turn to The Mind of the Raven unless Allan wants to listen to it as our next morning audio book. 

In other news, we had a cool and clear spell which is now being followed up by warmer and rainier! It truly is the Pacific Northwest in winter!

The birds don't seem to mind one bit. They have special preen oil that weather seals their wings pretty well. 

And they can borb up by fluffing their lower layer of down feathers to insulate themselves with three times the cuteness! Why don't I have feathers? Sounds convenient!

Anyways, I actually got decent sleep last night, which has left me tireder than ever. So, I'm going to go and relax for these last days of "holidaze" before the bleak unflinching dark of the rainy new year!

HAPPY 2026 ALL!!!