- Wordless Wednesday: Won’t it ever be spring? (Caterpickles)
The Seven-Year-Old is a voracious consumer of paper.
Paper is the essential component of the Winnie-the-Pooh museum she is constructing in her bedroom.
Right now, there are at least 8 brightly colored paper airplanes and several dozen paper-based art projects scattered around my office. Doubtless even more paper is being consumed down in the family cave, where The Seven-Year-Old is enjoying her daily dose of Wild Kratts.
When tearing open yet another package of computer paper to fuel her artistic drive, The Seven-Year-Old happened to read the label.
The Seven-Year-Old, holding the ream of paper up proudly over her head: “Mommyo, look how strong I am! I can lift 20 pounds (lbs) of paper!”
It was adorable. And completely incorrect. That ream of paper weighed more like 5 lbs. Well, 4.8 lbs to be exact.
(We know this because we weighed it using the time-honored method of weighing a conveniently located seven-year-old child on the scale twice — once by herself, and once holding the paper. The difference between the two numbers came to 4.8 lbs.)
The Seven-Year-Old, reasonably: “But if it only weighs 4.8 lbs, why do they call it 20 lb paper? They should call it 4.8 lb paper.”
According to How Stuff Works, paper is named according to how much 500 standard-size sheets of it weigh. 500 standard-size sheets of the printer paper that The Seven-Year-Old prefers for museum labels and paper airplanes weigh 20 lbs, hence the name 20 lb paper. (500 standard-size sheets of 24 lb paper would weigh 24 lbs and so on.)
The Seven-Year-Old, reading the label on her ream of paper: “But this ream has 500 sheets in it, Mommyo, and it still only weighs 4.8 lbs.”
Odd, isn’t it? Were we cheated?
Well, maybe. But probably not.
It all depends on how big you think a standard size sheet of paper is. When we layfolk hear the term standard size paper, we think about 8.5″ x 11″ sheets of paper, like that ream of printer paper The Seven-Year-Old was holding. But when paper manufacturers refer to standard size paper, they mean the larger 17″ x 22″ sheets of paper that they then cut into four pieces to create the familiar 8.5″ by 11″ size.
A 500-sheet ream of 17″ x 22″ sheets of printer paper does weigh 20 lbs. And since the 8.5″ x 11″ sheets we use are only 1/4 the size, the 500-sheet reams we buy in the stores to feed our printers and art-making machines weigh only 5 lbs (more or less).
The Seven-Year-Old, scrambling over a snow bank on a recent walk into school: “I think Santa puts some sort of trance on kids before he comes.”
Mommyo: “You think so?”
The Seven-Year-Old: “Yeah, so no one sees the flying reindeer and gets freaked out.”
Our semi-weekly survey of the tidbits that cross the The Seven-Year-Old’s desk.
Rare Tiger Family Caught on Video in China (National Geographic)
Due to extensive hunting, fewer than 400 Siberian tigers remain in their Russian and Chinese habitats. Video surfaced recently of a tiger family playing in China, possibly signaling a comeback for the big cats.
The Seven-Year-Old: “Whoa! That was awesome! I have to get my tigers and show them. We have something to celebrate! Siberian Tigers are making a comeback in China!”
Ringling Brothers to Retire its Circus Elephants (National Geographic)
Last week, news broke that after 145 years of featuring elephants in its circus acts, Ringling Brothers has decided to retire its 13 remaining elephants by 2018. The retired elephants will be sent to the Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Center for Elephant Conservation in central Florida. Ringling Brothers says that the move comes in response to growing audience discomfort with the practice of using elephants in their shows. The circus will continue to include tigers, lions, horses, dogs, and camels in their performances.
Illinois: Land of Lincoln, the Windy City, and Now, Bison (TakePart)
While googling around to find ideas for Mommyo Summer Camp this June, the Seven-Year-Old and I came across this story. Apparently, bison have returned to the Nature Conservatory’s Nachusa Grasslands Preserve in Franklin Grove, Illinois after a nearly 200 year absence. Since the preserve is only about 100 miles from Chicago, the Seven-Year-Old and I are busily making plans for a weekend road trip this summer.
Just kidding. I took this photo late last summer in San Francisco. Can you tell I’m gritting my teeth to get through this last month without flowers?
Every year about this time, Chicago decides that blue-brown rivers are boring. So the local plumber’s union uses a top secret combination of what they pinky-swear are ecologically-safe chemicals to dye the river green. Very very green.
The practice dates back to 1962, when Mayor Richard J. Daley and his boyhood friend Stephen M. Bailey decided it would be a bit of a lark to dye the river green as part of the city’s St. Patrick’s Day parade. The city has dyed its river on the day of the parade ever since.
According to this how-to from the Chicago Tribune, six members of the local plumbers union pile into two boats on the morning of the St. Patrick’s Day parade to spread the chemicals down the river (four crew members in the large boat, and two in a smaller one).
The dye job begins at 9:15 a.m. sharp under the Michigan Avenue bridge near Wacker Drive. Three of the crew in the large boat use kitchen sifters to sprinkle the top-secret powder on the river, while the fourth drives the boat downriver.
Meanwhile, the two folks in the smaller boat drive wackily through the powder trail to disperse the chemicals through the water to turn the river a more uniform green. (Sounds fun, doesn’t it?)
The entire process takes about 45 minutes. If you missed the display Saturday morning, you can watch a time-lapse video of it here.
This photo was taken on Saturday afternoon, about six hours after the river was dyed. I’m told the dye job lasts about three days. I can’t promise that The Seven-Year-Old and I will make it to downtown today to check, but if we do, we’ll report back.
Fun fact: The top-secret powder they use to dye the river is orange, not green. I honestly can’t decide whether I want to know the chemistry behind that. Do they test the river for pollutants before dying and adjust the formula every year to compensate, or is it a more straightforward manipulation of light and color?
Regardless, Happy St. Patrick’s Day!
A few years ago, I borrowed an idea from Susan, the blogger behind theskyislaughing, and interviewed the then Four-Year-Old about her current crop of likes, dislikes, and toys. Susan, interviews her daughter Selam every year.
I haven’t been as faithful about conducting the interviews, although I wish I had. Still, no time like the present for a check-in. Right?
Our semi-weekly survey of the tidbits that cross the The Seven-Year-Old’s desk.
Martin Le-May’s photograph of a weasel riding on a woodpecker’s back flew across my Facebook feed this week, captivating every seven-going-on-eight-year-old in its path.
From our favorite Four-Year-Old Norwood correspondent, Lil C, comes this question: “Did they have dinosaurs in Massachusetts?”
Lil C, you have no idea how many happy memories this question raises for me. The Seven-Year-Old and I have spent many afternoons hunting dinosaurs in Massachusetts.
I’m talking about the afternoons we spent with Daddyo hunting for fossils ourselves.
Massachusetts includes part of the Connecticut River Valley. Back in dinosaur time, about 190 million years ago, the Connecticut River Valley was a subtropical swamp. Lots of dinosaurs and other prehistoric beasties lived there. Among them were the Anchisaurus, an early prosauropod; the Podokesaurus, an early theropod; and Stegomosuchus (a prehistoric relative of the crocodile, not a dinosaur).
Although we never found any fossils from any of those guys, we did find lots of footprints.
Once the snow melts, ask your parents if they will take you out to see some dinosaur footprints. It’s a bit of a drive from where you are, but the Dinosaur Footprints park in Holyoke, Massachusetts, has a ton of well-preserved footprints for you to see. If you look carefully, you might even see fossils of ancient fish and plants embedded in the rock.
You can find even more fossil footprints at the Nash Dinosaur Track Site and Rock Shop in South Hadley, MA. (Be sure to have your parents call ahead, as it’s not always open.)
Unfortunately, scientists don’t know exactly which dinosaurs left the footprints in either location. They can only tell that some of the prints were left by sauropods (the blobby looking footprints) and others were left by therapods (the prints with the three-toed feet).
One last comment. Do you watch Dinosaur Train, Lil C?
If yes, you (or your parents) might be interested to learn that Dr. Scott Sampson from Dinosaur Train is going to be at The Harvard Museum of Natural History on March 28 to talk about his new book: How to Raise a Wild Child.
Happy fossil hunting!