We were thinking ahead here, and snapped this photo of this artsy turkey at Weston Road Community Gardens in Wellesley over the summer.
Joy Marzolf from Massachusetts Audubon’s Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary will discuss the lives of local wild animals in winter at the Wellesley Free Library, Wakelin Room on Wednesday, November 29, 2017 7pm. . Explore the unique ways that plants and animals have evolved to survive cold, dry winter conditions. Learn about the animals that escape winter by hibernating or migrating, and the others that adapt by changing their daily patterns of foraging and hunting. What animals are you most likely to see in winter? How do you know who is coming through your yard? Come find out more about our local wildlife, as well as occasional visitors, and what brings them to our neighborhoods in winter.Free and open to the public. Jointly sponsored by the Wellesley Conservation Council and Wellesley Free Library.
Wellesley Theatre Project (WTP) will present, Madagascar: A Musical Adventure, Jr. Friday, November 17 at 5pm and 8pm, and Saturday, November 18 and Sunday, November 19 at 2pm and 5pm. All performances will take place at Babson College’s The Sorenson Center, located at 19 Babson College Drive, Wellesley, MA 02482. Tickets are priced $15 for adults and $8 for students and seniors, and may be purchased online in advance, or at the door for $18 for adults and $12 for students and seniors.
Specially based on the smash hit DreamWorks animated motion picture, Madagascar: A Musical Adventure Jr. follows all of your favorite crack-a-lackin’ friends as they escape from their home in New York’s Central Park Zoo and find themselves on an unexpected journey to King Julien’s Madagascar. Join Alex the Lion, Marty the Zebra, Melman the Giraffe, Gloria the hip hip Hippo and, of course, those hilarious, plotting penguins for songs like “I Like to Move It” and “Best Friends” in this musical adventure of a lifetime. Will they make it back home to New York, or will they get eaten by the hungry foosas?
For more information about Madagascar: A Musical Adventure, Jr. or other Wellesley Theatre Project classes and productions, please visit www.wellesleytheatreproject.org or call 781- 235-1550.
Because I’m easily talked into nonsense and shenanigans, I recently donned a gorilla costume to experience the glory of passing out Halloween treats to sugar-needy Wellesley High School athletes. That’s me on the right, the one who is emoting. The calmer, cooler gorilla on the left prefers to remain nameless, and since I always protect my sources, I agreed to this demand for secrecy.
First, we had to sneak up on the athletes. That meant leaving our cars behind, a smart move which would also allow us to avoid an awkward traffic stop by the Wellesley police, who always have an eagle eye out for driving gorillas. We travelled on foot, walking along the Brook Path and then cutting across the field over to the track and our prey. Raising eyebrows and terrifying children with every step, we then made our grand entrance and did what gorillas do — we jumped around and passed out candy. It was surprisingly easy, this leaving behind of dignity and a carefully curated reputation as a hard-boiled blogger.
I was trying hard to follow the rules as laid out by my partner: “Don’t make eye contact because they’ll recognize you for sure. Don’t talk. It will make you more believable as a gorilla. And try to do gorilla body language.” Suddenly I felt like I could have used a couple of sessions with a good Method Acting coach before I embarked on this adventure.
Things got hairy in a hurry. Boys grabbed handfuls of candy, and I had to run away from the sheer crush of them. I was just a teeny gorilla, no match for the inner gorilla of a teenage boy, desperate for a Halloween candy sugar rush.
Meanwhile, the Pretty Girls cooly observed me, bows in their hair, bemused smiles on their faces, inwardly resolving never to debase themselves with such desperate attention-seeking techniques. I understood. I was that Pretty Girl once. The one who favored bunny costumes because pink is a good color on me. Or even better, Snow White, so as to capitalize on my then-alabaster skin and 23-inch waist. I was once that sophisticate who would never, ever dress up like a gorilla. Except for that one party in Cambridge. OK, fine. I suppose a precedent had been set. Anyway, yes, I was a vain thing many Halloweens ago, but there was an eventual reckoning. Crow’s feet and calories have been my comeuppance.
As we prepared to leave, something very exciting happened. One of the athletes had a picture of a monkey on his t-shirt. That’s right, there was my cousin, right there on a t-shirt. My inner gorilla went crazy. I kept pointing to the t-shirt, and then to myself, desperate that this young man see the connection. But there it was again. That bemused smile. Oh if only I had paid attention during gorilla family gatherings when Cousin Koko had tried to teach me sign language. Then I might have been able to communicate with this young man our shared humanity, our evolutionary bond. Did I really come out of the mist just to hand out candy and be misunderstood? So it would seem.
Later, I picked up my athlete son, who said not a word about my earlier exploits (even though he had accepted candy from gorilla-mom). What better way for a teenager to express displeasure at a parent’s embarrassing exploits than by completely ignoring that (ridiculous) parent. Brilliant, actually. Unless that parent reads ignoring as a gauntlet being thrown down. A challenge, if you will, to engage in ever-wilder exploits.
Meanwhile, elsewhere on the family front, my co-blogger and husband was away on business during all this silliness, so he was unable to stop the madness. But Bob is generally supportive of all my insanity and would have encouraged me to go through with it, and likely still regards me as a prime mate. We stick together like gorilla glue that way.
St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Wellesley attracted dozens of pets and humans for the annual Blessing of the Animals ceremony late Sunday afternoon. Most of the critters behaved themselves, though one dog owner sitting on the steps of the church before the ceremony did remark that two of her three pups actually needed exorcisms for the way they were carrying on.