A Rather Shelfish Weekend

We entertained our first guests in our new place this weekend. We had some friends over for dinner and conversation, and it went quite well. The kids were pretty cooperative, and the evening progressed without any uncomfortable lulls. All in all, I think everyone had a good time. Our new house will work well for entertaining--well enough that we may have to do it more often.

Saturday I built shelves. I didn't get as far as I would have liked, but I accomplished quite a bit, considering it turned out to be a "nested loop" type job. I would start the shelves only to find that I needed to do something else first. I'd then start on that only to realize that something else would need to be done before I could accomplish that job, and so on.

So after moving the cabinet on the wall over about eight inches, assembling the plastic shelves from our previous garage and finding places for them, and sorting through the boxes of bottles and cans to be stored, I finally got to work on the shelves. I got shelving cut and installed in two of the five sections, and bottles loaded onto one section.

That will hopefully hold me until I have time to cut more shelves. The saw is so noisy (and dusty! I had no idea that MDF produced so much dust!) that I can't do it while the kids are trying to sleep, which limits my hours of operation greatly. But I'm hoping that by the time I get the plastic shelves and the remaining section of completed shelves loaded there'll either be nothing left to store for now, or it will be a few days later and I'll have time to cut some more shelves before the kids go to bed. We'll see.

I'm eager to get this project over with, as I may then be able to start concentrating on my den. And a few "Honey-do's" that have also been accumulating.

Corporate Downsizing

I overheard in the lunchroom and confirmed on the local news' website that a HAZMAT team is on site at my building after a mysterious package containing an unknown white powder was found in our mailroom. There has been no attempt to evacuate anyone, to my knowledge.

Gosh, I love this company!

Scruffy-Looking NERF-Hurters

I finished Michael Crichton's "State of Fear" this morning. I think I've found my new hero; someone willing to stand up and say "You know, we just don't know enough to be so gol-darned sure of ourselves. The Save-the-Planet and the Rape-the-Planet crowds are equally stupid."

He calls into question the nature of scientific research these days; how far too many studies are paid for by special interests, so how can we be surprised when the studies reach conclusions favorable to the patron? (The study funded by M&M Mars that determined that chocolate is good for you comes to mind.) The studies paid for by environmental groups are just as likely to be biased as the studies paid for by industry.

Have we really, as a society, forgotten how to think, how to question? Could it be my four-year-old has more journalistic acumen than a network anchor? If more people asked "Why?" more often, perhaps we wouldn't get so much bad science--and bad reporting of bad science.

At any rate, I'm certainly tired of all the doom and gloom we get inundated with every day. Are we seeing the truth, or just what someone wants us to see? What would be the benefits of our believing them? Could someone out there have an agenda? I'm no journalist, but I played one in college enough to know that there is no such thing as an unbiased media. As long as there are more stories to report than there is time to report them there will be bias. There has to be.

Anyway, I'm rambling around on this soapbox, and most soapboxes aren't big enough to support much rambling, so I'll shut up. For now.

Drug-Dealin', Gun-Totin' Biker Chipmunks From Poughkeepsie

(Title apropos of nothing. Sometimes I just hate creating titles)

It was a good weekend. It could have been longer. It's fun spending money at Home Depot, but I'd better cut myself off soon. Our "moving in" budget is rapidly depleting. But by golly I saved a lot of money with that 10% Off coupon!

The storage shelves in the garage are slowly taking shape. Now I've got to cut the salvaged cupboard panels to shelf size so we can start putting in the shelves to maximize space when we unpack all our food storage. Once we get all of that put away I can re-organize the garage and all the other place-less items that have been accumulating. Once I find room for all of that then maybe--just maybe--I can park my car inside again. It's quickly getting into the time of year when that becomes important.

I love Autumn. I went for a walk during lunch today and it was entirely comfortable outside. I need a jacket in the morning, but not for very long. The leaves should be turning soon, and then I'll really enjoy walking. My company's campus backs up to the river greenbelt, lined with trees. It's a very pleasant setting, and there are convenient tenth of a mile markers along the route. I did about 1.25 miles today. And I'm still feeling the effects, so I'd better start doing more of this.

This entry is meandering all over the place. Like my life right now. I'm rather directionless, and I've never been very good with that. I've got to have something on the priority list, even if it's only to avoid it. At work I'm essentially waiting around for my manager to officially announce my degradation and find me a project to work on. If I learned anything in the last five months it's that I should never hold my breath when waiting on her to do something.

I wish she would get on with it, though. It's like getting dumped, but having your significant other swear you to secrecy until the timing is right. "I just can't date you anymore. But I don't want anyone to know yet, so what are you doing Friday night?" Sorry, relationship's over. Let me move on.

Or, to quote the Alan Parsons Project, "Let me go home. I've had a hard night. Leave me alone."

On the bright side, they've just implemented a policy requiring everyone to wear their security badges visibly on their person. I've been carrying mine in my wallet, but now I've it on a nifty, springloaded belt-line. Wheeee! Gadgets! Watch me forget mine at home now.

Okay, okay. I'll put you out of your misery now.

Juiceless Drill Bits

I'm not sure how it knows, but my cordless drill always seems to run down just before I finish a project. Invariably I'm left with only two or three more screws to drive, which is just few enough to tempt me to do it by hand. Remind me next time that it takes a long time and a lot of muscle power to drive a three-inch screw into pine, even when I've got pre-drilled pilot holes to work with.

On the other hand, I'm loving the new miter saw. My middle son is not. He hates the noise. My daughter is simultaneously fascinated and frightened of it. She'll stand there and watch from a safe distance, her hands over her ears, but she can't bring herself to leave. When I later tried to explain how a saw works (without actual demonstration) she was afraid of the sawdust I tried to get her to feel. I guess that's better than having them NOT afraid of my saw at this point. It's better if they keep a respectful distance.

Still, I could do without my son shrieking and running away crying if I even plug it in.

Well, Okay...What's Next?

After a rather sleepless night I'm muddling through the day. I had a chat with my resource manager when I first got here, which helped. I'm still not very happy with the way this all came about, but I can't change that. About all I can do is make the best of the situation. And take some time to decide what I want "the best" to be.

This still stings. But I'm slowly applying the calamine lotion.

Bring On the Flipping Fish

Shows what I know. I'm being demoted back to the trenches. Looks like it's time to polish up the ol' resume, as I didn't like the trenches all that much.

Future Fish Flipper?

I've got my semi-annual review in a few minutes. Fortunately, my resource manager sent me a copy of the review document this morning, so I already know what I'm up against. It's actually not too bad, and to some degree better than I would have expected. There's some good feedback I can draw from, and at least six months in which to fix things. It looks like I may not have to further burden my brother with another family member to employ just yet.

I've also been discussing the training experience with some of my team, and they don't seem to remember the negative feedback either. Perhaps I was reading more into it than I should have. Or paying attention to the wrong people. Meanwhile, I'm getting some valuable input on how to improve things. I'm almost looking forward to the next round of training. Almost.

Slept On It

I feel a little better today. Interestingly enough, as I sat down to write this I got an email from one of the other team leads who took notes on the feedback we got. Either she was somewhat selective, or the feedback was better than I remember. In any case, I've decided that if I'm going to take the hit for the 25% that didn't go well, I should also take the credit for the 75% that did. Put the two together and I may average out around 80%. I'll happily take a B on this assignment.

Mostly I'm just tired. I'm an introvert, as I've iterated many times. Getting up in front of the team and presenting training, while not hard, was draining. Getting caught in the middle of a somewhat negative (I still hold she didn't entirely capture the mood in the room) feedback session really drained me. By the end of the day I felt totally hoss-whupped.

Coming back to a few other brushfires this morning hasn't helped, but I'll make it. I'm not ready to throw in the towel yet, but I still feel a little bruised. It doesn't help that I'm having my semi-annual review this week, too. I'm obviously not expecting that to go well.

C'est la guerre.

That's My Soul Up There

Well, my big training program is over, and the best I can say about it is that it's over. The good news, I guess, is that it was 75% successful. The bad news is that I developed the content for and delivered the 25% that failed. The general consensus of the group was "we want to hear more from that other guy." I guess my brother tried to warn me. When you're a manager your subordinates feel no need to pull their punches. They let you have it with both barrels, and diplomacy be hanged.

I really, really question whether I'm cut out for this. It's getting awefully tempting to ask my boss to demote me to replace some of the people we've lost recently. The totally pathetic thing is that there would be no pay cut involved. We team leads are taking on all this extra responsibility for no extra pay. At first I didn't mind. Today I do. To heck with this.

"Fate of Stear"

My latest audio book is Michael Crichton's "State of Fear." Interesting, though as usual with Crichton I have no idea where the real science ends and the fiction begins. Not that I let it bother me much. I find his books entertaining, and cautiously informative.

I have to laugh at this one just a bit, though. The one constant theme of his in the books/movies I've seen is the idea of the "academic-as-hero." I think in this one Crichton is poking a little fun at himself in the character of Dr. John Kenner. The character is a scientist turned anti-eco-terrorist spy--a real action hero type.

And what are the most famous action figures of all time (other than perhaps GI Joe)? Star Wars. And who made at least the original Star Wars action figures? Kenner. Coincidence? I highly doubt it. Not from Crichton.

Anyway, it's a fun book, though I find his treatment of the main character, Peter Evans, just a little heavy-handed. There's no question of where Crichton stands on the issue. And I happen to agree with him that much of the environmental doom-n-gloom science we hear about these days is likely manipulation at best or bad science at worst. However, that does not excuse us from being more careful with the environment than we are. Just because we can't prove anything catastrophic is happening because of human impact doesn't mean that we aren't having a negative impact. There is plenty of things we can prove that we should be concerned about, even without Global Warming in the picture.

Anyway, Peter Evans is his foil, his 100% true blue, body-of-believers environmentalist who, though the proof he clings to is shaky, refuses to believe any of the counter-science he is bombarded with by Dr. Action-hero. I suspect by the end of the book he'll come around, of course, but right now his tenacious clinging to "my scientists are unbiased, pure, and trustworthy while yours are all disreputable pawns of big business" is really getting old. It would be easier to buy if this character weren't a lawyer. I thought lawyers were supposed to be good at seeing things in shades of gray.

At any rate, I'll hold my judgement until the end of the book, but I'm really hoping that Crichton adopts a middle-line at some point; no, we're not on the edge of disaster that we know of, but yes, we should be paying more attention to what we're doing and being better stewards of the planet, because we don't know that we're not destroying the place, either. And certainly, his message about not believing everything you hear in the media is valid, especially surrounding research and science. The media are notorious about misrepresenting data and the scientific significance of various studies. It doesn't mean they're wrong, just that we should always question, something we should have learned from our high school science teachers a long time ago.

Incidentally, has anyone verified his quoted sources? Being an audio book--one that I listen to while driving, no less--that's a little hard for me to do, currently.

NOOOO DISASSEMBLE!

In keeping with the holiday, I worked. Not at work, but at home. We inherited a set of hand-made cabinets in the garage, which I was excited about initially, but on closer inspection decided they were not going to work. I had already ripped them out and had them in our driveway, and yesterday I disassembled them, salvaged the door hardware, and chucked most of the wood in a dumpster.

After that I ripped out the squash patch. We also inherited a garden, and the crook-neck squash have been taking over. No longer. We're down to a couple of zuccini plants on the other side of the garden. And thousands of squash bugs are dead or homeless. Icky icky icky! (pikang-zoop-boing-goodem-zoo-owli-zhiv)

The squash plants had to be disposed of, and fortunately we had a dumpster. My two year old son was "helping" me, so we worked out a deal. I'd load a wheelbarrow full of plants, haul them to the dumpster, then give him a ride in the wheelbarrow back to the garden. He thought that was a lot of fun.

Then my four year old daughter came outside and wanted a piece of the action. Fortunately they both agreed to sit together in the wheelbarrow. By then we were nearly done hauling plants, and I figured she'd be pretty disappointed to only get two rides. The last ride I decided to take a detour on the way back to the garden and ended up giving them a wheelbarrow ride around the neighborhood. So at the moment I'm on both their good sides.

It was a pretty good day, all in all, though there were the unfortunate incidents later at the flooring store. There are worse ways of spending the last holiday of Summer. Even if the day ended with a huge load of food storage, a shifted load, a slow-motion scramble to catch falling boxes, and a broken bottle of beans.

Those are the days that make life worthwhile, and make the ones in between a little more bearable.

I'm Not Still Standing

With great space comes great furniture needs, or something like that. Our previous house had a small living room and no family room. The couch was an old thrift-store purchase that Terhi had given new life with a new cover. We donated it back to the thrift store when we moved.

Now we have a living room and a family room, and up until yesterday no furniture in either one. Over the weekend we purchased a loveseat and chair for the living room, and a hide-a-bed sofa and loveseat for the family room (yes, that means we now have room for guests).

The place looks really good now, but it also makes it seem more alien. The new house has seemed like we own it so far because all of our stuff is there. Now we have a bunch of new stuff that we're not used to, so it looks less like we own the place now. I have a feeling the "alienation" is going to continue for awhile, as we're going to need to pick up additional furniture and art pieces to complete decorating.

When I was a missionary in Australia I transferred around frequently. There came a point, however, in every new area when I suddenly realized that it felt like I belonged there. I wonder how long it will take this time.

Report Card Time!

Perhaps today is not the best day to do this, as I'm already in a bad mood over several other issues, but I may as well get this over with. I figure the best way to summarize the whole move is to present a report card for everyone we worked with.

Genesis Real Estate (Derek Mertz) - D+ : The main reason why I went with a realtor after our last experience is because I knew this was a bad time to be trying to sell a house. With my new job hitting crunch time and a wife trying to take care of three small children, the last thing I wanted was for us to have to handle all the work of real estate transactions. An agent was supposed to take care of all it, or so I thought. That's what they tell you in television spots.

Well, it didn't happen that way. I was way too involved in this whole mess, and it seemed like every time something was going wrong our agent was either nowhere to be found or not really interested in doing anything about it. If he ever picked up on my frustrations he never tried to be even sympathetic. The only thing he did well was to line up a mold removal specialist. Unfortunately, he did very little to set and manage our expectations, so it often seemed like one hit of bad news after another.

He forgot the little things. He didn't let us know that the sellers accepted our repairs request. He never did find us a copy of the subdivision CCR's, though I reminded him several times. If he ever did intend to tell us when to show up for closings, he always seemed to wait until after I'd given up waiting and called myself. It's as if the moment our offer on the new house was accepted his work was done and he couldn't be bothered. It just got easier to do things myself.

The last straw came last week on closing day. From what I can tell he was content to let things run their course without lifting a finger. He wasn't even aware there was a problem until I called him. And though he supposedly got immediately to work trying to find out what was going on, he didn't call back, even to let us know he wasn't able to find anything out--even that would have helped.

At any rate, this person will not be receiving any recommendation from us.

The Home Loan Coach - C+ : Our mortgage broker was a recommendation from our agent. I'll never know the whole story, so it's hard to say who was responsible for what, but the pains of the last day were mainly due to a network crash at the lender "Coach" lined up for us. While their follow up wasn't the best, at least they tried to get things straightened out. I'll never know if the lender just wasn't giving them accurate information or if they weren't passing on the truth, but I was told three different times over the space of six hours that the money had been wired. You can only hear that so many times and have nothing happen before you start to lose confidence.

The biggest problem was that they were out of state. That's fine when things go right. When they go wrong it's always nice to have someone you can strangle face-to-face. Plus I think I could have found a better rate locally. And I'll never know for sure who screwed up on the hazard insurance binder.

I would recommend them, but only if you really have NO time or desire to deal with mortgages, which doesn't take all that long, really.

Ness Construction, LLC (Air Quality Restoration) - A : The one thing our agent did well with. These guys came through for us. The inspector showed up the same day to inspect our mold problem. They came when they said they would, finished quickly, and hit their estimate.

I hope you never have a mold problem, but if you do, this is the guy to call.

Title One Title Company - A : Our buyers selected this one, and everything seemed to go smoothly for them. We had no problems. Our money came through on time. It went how I would expect things to go.

I'd probably recommend this company.

Pioneer Title Company - C+ : No one really selected them. Our agent preferred another office in another town (glad we didn't go THAT route). Our sellers didn't want to drive that far for closing, so they counter-recommended the most local office.

They were very sympathetic when things started going wrong, but didn't really seem to be trying that hard for us. I'm not sure that's their job anyhow, but who knows. They claim they never saw anything indicating our lender needed an insurance binder, but that sort of thing seems to be standard procedure, and I did find a form stating that the lender would not release funds without one in the stack of copies they gave me after signing. Something seems a little fishy, and I'm not talking about their huge salt-water aquarium.

I'm not sure I'd recommend them.

Adam Bramble Insurance Agency - A : He's our local Farmers Insurance agent. I called him last monday just to make sure everything was set on the insurance side of things. He hadn't heard a thing, which was not a good sign. But, unlike far too many of the others I worked with in all this, he simply said "I'll take care of it." And he did. Not a single delay was traceable to him or his staff not getting the proper documents to the right place by the right time.

There's a reason why he's our agent for auto, home, and life. If there's ever a problem in any of those areas, he's the guy I want to have taking care of me. And that's why I recommend him.

Space Age Movers - B+ : They guys that came to move us out of our home were great; very professional, very efficient, and communicated well. I felt we were in really good hands. The guys that came to move us in the following week were almost as good, but the extra team that showed up were a little flighty.

They were pretty good at work with us during the delay, but I'm still a little irritated that I couldn't get hold of anyone for an hour--and we were still billed for it. It did turn out for the best, though, as I had been calling to try and cancel them for the day, thinking we weren't going to get the keys after all. But then we got the keys and I was glad to still have them available.

I'd recommend them, but ask for Chris.

Idaho Self Storage - B+ : In spite of a flurry of rather minor problems, this proved to be a good choice. On the first moving day we suddenly realized we had more stuff than would fit in our storage unit. The site manager found me a second suitable unit right next to our first one, and gave me a decent deal on locks for both. He would have given me a good price, too, had the company policy allowed. They've been easy to work with, and they were quick to acknowledge their mistakes, which is fine.

It also happens to be right next door to my bank, which came in really handy when it came time to pay the movers the first time and I'd forgotten my checkbook.

Probably not the cheapest place in town, but they're good to work with.

Budget Host Inn - C- : Speaking of acknowledging their mistakes, these people really need to work on it. We'd reserved two motel rooms with a connecting door several weeks in advance. The reality was that the people they'd booked in those rooms the night before suddenly decided to stay another night. Had the motel told me this up front I probably would have understood and been happy to work around the problem.

That's not what happened. When I arrived they first made sure they billed my credit card up front for the entire week--non-refundable. Then they told me which rooms we were getting, with not even the slightest hint that it wasn't what we'd asked for. Not only were they not next to each other, they were on different floors.

When I called it to their attention they shuffled things around and found us two rooms next to each other. When I asked if it had a connecting door they admitted it did not. I told them that wouldn't work. Only then did they admit that they knew what I'd reserved all along and that it wasn't available. By that point I was mad. They finally agreed to get us into the connected rooms the next day when the occupants left, but they seemed determined not to budge an inch to help me unless I complained. They didn't offer to do anything at all to make up for the problem.

Housekeeping was spotty, at best. Richard hated the place. I wouldn't recommend them, not even if you have pets. All the free continental breakfasts in the world wouldn't make up for how they treated me.

Bottom Line
I'm glad it's all over. If there is ever a next time (and I sure hope not), I plan to be much more assertive about a lot of things. Ohhh, I'm so glad this is over. I realize my problems are pretty small compared to what's going on in the wake of Hurricane Katrina, but then if they'd all payed what I shelled out to NOT have all the problems that I ended up with, THEY'D be ticked off, too.

A Man's Home Is His Castle...

...and we took this one by siege. I'll tell you more of the hideous story some other time. It sufficeth to say that we are now in our new home, and while things are still in varying states of disarray, we're loving the place. When the results of our weekend spending spree at RC Willey arrives on Wednesday we'll be in the home stretch--as as far as moving in. Decorating, on the other hand, has yet to begin, in spite of the $200 we spent at Target during the same spending spree.

The good news is that we budgeted for all this. The other good news is that Terhi seems to be really enjoying the idea of decorating, even if she even dreams about it. Even if I didn't like our new home so much myself I'd love it for how happy it's making her.

Now if we could only get the kids and cats settled down. I think both groups suffered from the chaos of the last week and a half, and it's going to take some time to get them back to normal. We'll get there. They're a walk in the park compared to how our closing went. But as I said, another story for another time...

Meanwhile, I'm back!

I Can't Stress This Enough

We're still living in a motel, and while everyone is making the best of it, it's taking its toll. We're hoping we can move into our new home on schedule, but timing is tricky and balls are being dropped. Add to that the fact that I'm getting increasingly behind on the darned training program I'm supposed to have together by Friday.

I know, these are small things compared to what many people in the world face every day. But it's stressful, nonetheless.

The End of an Era

We moved out today. It's been two days of nearly non-stop labor getting packed, moved, and cleaning up. Let's just say it was a little disheartning to get to our motel to find that not only did they not have the two interconnected rooms we'd reserved, but put us in two rooms on different floors. And they weren't going to do anything about it unless I complained. Which I did. They're getting us the interconnected rooms tomorrow. Or there'll be fifteen kinds of H-E-Double-Toothpicks to pay.

But I digress. Terhi and I took one last walk through the house, amazed at how big it looked when completely empty. That led to waxing nostalgic, which led to tears. As small as our house was, it was the setting for a very important era in our lives. It seems the new owners will appreciate it, though, and that makes it a little easier to take.

Still, I'll miss it. So long, little house.

Dark Side of the Moon

No, I'm not becoming a Pink Floyd fan, and I'm surprised that I even know it's an album by them.

Tomorrow we're moving out. We'll be in a motel for as long as a week, though potentially a little less. I may post updates between now and then, but if I don't, that's why. We're in communications blackout.

See y'all on the other side...

...As...As...A Fiddler on the Roof!

In a flurry of activity the roofers descended on our house this morning. By the time I got home this evening they had everything replaced to the decking. Tomorrow they'll come back and shingle it all. At least I hope.

Meanwhile, the kids were thrilled and the cats were nervous. The cats have pretty much been nervous for the past several weeks. They know something's up. Something BIG. They're used to us packing, but not for weeks. I can only imagine what is running through their heads right now.

"Hmmmm...they just moved the sofa out. They've never taken the sofa to Finland before! They must really be planning a long trip this time!" They'll probably be basket-cases by the time we move into the next place. But then again, would we notice a difference?

It's starting to sink in that we're moving. Yesterday was the "Big Goodbye" at church. There were those who expressed their sadness as offense that we would dare to move, and those who simply said they'd miss us. I much prefer the latter.

There were plenty of "last time" moments. I'll miss our ward. But I have to admit that I probably won't think of it much after we get settled in. There are quite a few individuals, though, that I will think of often. There were a lot of people I deem "quiet heroes," who aren't the standouts, who aren't lauded for this or that, but just quietly go about their lives, do their best, and happen to be there whenever you need them. People who quietly volunteer for just about everything, seldom need reminding about anything, and always seem to be in the background, making sure things happen. People whose lives are a sermon in themselves.

I want to be someone like that someday. I'm not there yet. I'm still too selfish. I still pat myself on the back too much. I still don't volunteer nearly often enough. Give me...oh, a few more centuries might do it.

I'll miss those people. And I'll have very good intentions of keeping in touch. We'll probably even invite quite a few of them over to see our new house. And who knows. Maybe the friendships will last--maybe even blossom when we actually have to work at it, when we don't just see everyone each week.

Who knows. Anything is possible. Even me becoming someone like that someday.

Learning Curves Ain't Smooth

Today I experienced one of those failures you can only sit back and learn from--and hope you keep your job long enough to do so. And of course it had to come on the day of my mid-year evaluation. The good news is that it can only be up from here--and that it's only the mid-year review.

Gah. I've been saying all along "if I can just survive August..." Ten days down, twenty-one to go.

Perspective

I found this today lurking on the company servers:

Fight or Flight?

1. A gentleman traveling on a coast-to-cost flight
Was the kind of person who had real insight.
A five-year old youngster was really a fright
Running up and down aisles and giving a fight.

2. The people in business were trying to work
Near those who were sleeping, the youngster did lurk.
He yanked off the headsets of some music lovers,
And took all of the peanuts that he could discover.

3. The passengers complained, “He must be controlled,”
And threatened the flight crew to knock him out cold.
The flight attendant buckled him in his seat
But his screams and his hollers were less than a treat.

4. The passengers, desperate, want him bound tight and gagged.
“Arrest the boy’s parents, or let them be nagged.”
At last comes our gentleman, who spoke to the crew.
They loved his idea; into action they flew.

5. They found a seat for the boy in the front of the plane.
They were willing to do it to keep themselves sane.
They fashioned a steering wheel from a large plate;
A stick was a rudder’ he thought it was great.

6. Flying instruments were made from some odds and some ends.
The pilot came back; the two became friends,
The pilot then asked for help flying the plane.
Because it’d be tough if they ran into rain.

7. The kid was delighted’ he was taught how to fly.
Flight attendants all smiled; the copilot came by.
The pilot saluted and left the boy in command.
He kept pretty quiet and thought it was grand.

8. The passengers rejoiced; the gentleman was praised.
How did you think of it?” the question was raised.
The gentleman answered in a voice calm and low,
“It’s really quite simple, if you go with the flow.

You tried hard to solve your own problem, the noise;
But the problem I solved was that of the boy’s.”

© Janice Y. Preston, 1993. All rights reserved. Used with Permission

Visage Envy

We watched "Kate and Leopold", starring Meg Ryan and Hugh Jackman over the weekend for our date night. I'm not one to compare myself with actors, but I have to admit that if I could pick my face I wouldn't mind looking like Hugh Jackman. He has a rather handsome, flexible face--flexible in that he can look gentle and charming or ferocious and manacing with equal ease.

Let's face it, Bill Pullman would have a bit of a challenge pulling all of that off.

I don't know if it's age, the part, direction, make-up, or what, but Meg Ryan wasn't as cute as she's been in this one. And it's not like "You've Got Mail" (arguably at her cutest) was all that long before this one. I suspect it was the part, largely. Kate McKay was not as lovable a role like Kathleen Kelly. And Hugh Jackman stole the show. Heavens, even Breckin Meyer, as Ryan's brother, was more lovable.

Nonetheless, it was a good movie. We enjoyed it. I can't help but think the world would be a better place if we could find the time for civility and manners. And romantic dinners on rooftops.

Quality Time

My wife and I have been trying to get in "dates" with each of the kids each month. Today was my time with my older son. He loves the kids section at Barnes & Noble, so I thought I'd take him there after we picked up a few things for the move from Home Depot. In order to find the moving dollies we passed the lawnmower section.

We ended up spending the rest of our time there. He just loved walking around looking at all the different models and then picking out the one that looked just like ours. He was in heaven, and I can certainly think of worse things than hanging around in Home Depot. Especially when he is so excited. He's quite cute when he gets enthusiastic about something.

As further proof of Home Depot's superlative nature, they actually had a rack of "Tractor and Mower 2005" catalogs nearby. I picked one up for Walter's church-time entertainment tomorrow. Sure enough. He spent close to an hour today leafing through the catalog.

Of course I should have realized. Practically every day he asks me if I'm going to mow the lawn, and if I ever change in to my grubbies and not mow the lawn there is heck to pay. I don't quite understand the obsession, but what the hey. If you can't beat them, join them.

We capped the morning off with a donut from WinCo. A visit to the lawnmower section and a 43-cent donut--and I'm a hero. There are some things money can't buy. But I did pay for the dolly with Mastercard.

Round Four: Conclusion

We finally got our agent to admit today that the sellers accepted our request to fix a few things. I'm not sure if he'd thought he'd already told us or if he just figured it wasn't worth mentioning.

At any rate, it looks like it's full steam ahead. Now we just have to figure out whether we're going to hire movers, rent a truck and move it ourselves, ask some guys from church to help us, or some combination of the above. The weightiest (pun intended) matter is three little words that fill most people with dread: upright grand piano.

Independence Is Irrelevant. Resistance Is Futile

I'm about to take the last leap into the wired world. I've been resisting getting a Blackberry since I started work at my present company because the idea of getting work calls and emails at home appeals to me about as much as getting a mohawk via waxing. But I essentially have no office, and hence no place to make or receive phone calls unless I take over a privacy booth.

I get emails just fine with my laptop, but I guess a few times my fellow team leads have wanted to reach me in person. That doesn't bother me, frankly. It's a personal preference that they don't send me an email asking me to call them. But my wife can't reach me very easily in an emergency, either. And while we haven't had any honest-to-gosh emergencies yet (knock on...whatever this table is made off), there has been plenty of business coming up with our real estate ventures and no way to reach me quickly.

And so I told my boss today I either need a desk and phone here in this building (where I spend 90% of my time lately instead of my real desk) or a Blackberry. I guess the Blackberry's easier to arrange.

And so any day now I'll be receiving my Borg hip implant. I'm in I.T., for heaven's sake. I should be thrilled to death that not only do I get the latest fancy gadget, but the company will pay for it, too. I even hear they have an "off" switch that we're permitted to use after hours.

So why ain't I dancin' in the street?

Round Four: Update

The inspection report on our soon-to-be new home wasn't anything traumatic, and makes me wonder just what else they found with our current house that was never reported to us. We're requesting a few repairs, but nothing close to the scale of what we're doing for our buyers. Most of the things the inspector listed I never noticed, and I was reasonably thorough.

We're now officially in August, so everything happens this month. In less than three weeks we'll be midway between houses. Considering how quickly July went by, I should be a bit more panicked than I am. We've got lots of work to do still.

We spent most of the day Saturday organizing the garage, determining what we will sell and what should go in the pile for the garage sale. When faced with moving everything I'm finding I'm getting much more mercenary than I usually manage. I cut my paperback collection in half. I should do the same with my college textbook collection, but that's a little harder to do. It's hard to imagine anyone wanting to pick up "Biology: The Cornerstones of Life" at a yardsale. But it's also hard to imagine my ever opening that book again, even though I loved my Zoology class.

I'm starting to see why my dad has a bunch of outdated science and math books nestled in amongst all the other books on the huge book case at home. Is there out there somewhere an secret ancient textbook burial ground?

The kids are excited to be having a yard sale and moving. The cats are freaking out. They know something is up, but they don't know what. Little do they know that we'll be taking them with us--and that they'd probably prefer to be left behind this time. At least until we get into the new house. I can't imagine them being too enthusiastic about living in a motel for a week.

But then neither am I.

Heard In Passing...

I overheard my two-year-old son singing a song he learned at church:

"The wise man built his ho-ouse in a wok!"

Round Four: Redux (or is it Reflux?)

The buyers accepted our proposal for mold remediation, so sometime between now and Aug. 18 a team of guys is going to show up and rip our roof off. Or half of it, anyway. Maybe a third. I'll bet the kids will want to set up lawn chairs across the street and watch. It should be pretty cool: guys in hazmat suits crawling all over our roof, ripping up shingles and tar paper, removing sheets of plywood, dumping it into dumptrucks (on our nice lawn! ACK!), sanding down rafters (I'm assuming that's what they mean by "abrasion removal"), spraying chemicals around, and replacing everything. It'll probably resemble a scene from E.T. I'll have to see if the foreman has a big key ring.

Yesterday we had the inspection on the house we hope to move into. The wife was home, and we got to chat a bit. She seems very excited that someone who will appreciate their home will be buying it. It sounds like they had an investor make an offer, too, but she just couldn't bear the thought of it being a rental. She was more than happy to take me on a tour of the garden we'll be inheriting, explaining all the ins and outs of maintaining the yard, and showing off the place. She even gave us their phone number and encouraged us to call again some time to go over and get more information. We'll probably take her up on it.

We get the inspection report today. I left before the inspector finished, but unless there is water in the crawlspace, he didn't think he'd find anything other than minor cosmetic stuff. He even took the time to show me that the signs of water drippage under the kitchen sink was not actually a leak, but errant water running down the sprayer hose when you use it. Not a problem. We hardly use the sprayer.

I had a bit of time to look around the neighborhood, too. It's a nice, quiet subdivision. We live beyond the side streets connecting the area to the other main road, so the only traffic past our house should be people who live there only. That's nice. We currently live on the "shortcut street."

I'm still coming to grips with the idea of moving. Other than my time as a missionary in Australia, which doesn't really count, there's only been one time in my life when I moved somewhere I didn't already know fairly well. And that ended up being only for six months.

We're still in packing mode, though we're rapidly reaching the point where anything that is left is needed for basic living. Soon we'll be doing something else we've never done before: having a yard sale. That could be interesting.

Round Four: Continued

The inspection report specifically mentioned mold. We brought in a mold inspector for a remediation company. It's only on one side of the roof, but it's all along that side. The inspector felt that there is no real structural or health risk in leaving it there, but acknowledges that it probably does freak buyers out and should probably be deal with. It's actually cheaper to replace the roof, so that's what we're doing. Assuming the buyers are satisfied with that. They should be, as it's pretty much verbatim what they asked for.

And so we wait some more while they decide what they want to do.

Verbual House Tour

We've been asked to describe the house we're buying. In spite of the current situation, I'm going to remain positive and talk about it like it's still a done deal.

We enter the house through the lovely front door. To the immediate right is the living room, complete with lovely Pergo flooring, a nice window seat at a large, ornate window, and another set of floor-length windows on the far wall. This will probably be where our piano will go, as well as some nicer furniture for welcoming guests.



Directly ahead is the dining area, with a kitchen off to the right, also with Pergo flooring. If you proceed straight through the dining area there is a pair of sliding doors leading out to the deck and the back yard. More about them later.



To the left of the front door is a pair of stairs; one leading up, the other down. Upstairs there is a bedroom, bathroom, and another bedroom on the right, and the master bedroom suite on the far right. The master suite has its own bathroom with two sinks, and a walk-in closet on the far side of the bathroom (what's up with that? Most newer places are like that for some reason).

Downstairs is a long family room with a fireplace at the far end, and a large window on the right-hand wall at ground level. Off to the left is a short hallway with a large closet (beneath the upstairs stairs) and bathroom on the left, another bedroom on the right, and a utility porch straight ahead. Through the utility porch is a door leading to stairs up into the garage.



Outside there is a medium-sized garden area (perhaps half the size of our current garden) with raised planter beds and a gravel-covered parking spot currently occupied by the owners' boat, but will be available for repurposing (perhaps more garden or a pair of fruit trees). The other side of the yard is mostly taken up by a large tree (yay!), but there should be ample room for a play area for the kids. There is also a concrete alley running along the far side of the house where they have a small shed.



And that's about the size of it. They've kept it in really good shape, I must say. We're looking forward to living in it.

Round Four: In Which the Going Gets Tough

It's at this point I'm glad we have an agent. Up until now I've been wondering what our agent has really done beyond list our house on MLS, make some phone calls, and shuffle paperwork around. But then we had the inspection.

The bottom line: the inspector verbally told my wife one thing. The buyers are telling us another, but didn't back it up with the actual inspection report. Our agent gets to iron all this out. Not that it's easy waiting for things to be resolved, but if it were up to me to resolve it things might not be going very well at this point.

Not that I'm sure they're going well anyway.

In the mean time, we're making our plans for how we're going to spend our week in the wilderness, driven out of Egypt, but not yet ready for the Promised Land. We're hoping two adjoining rooms in a local motel will do the trick.

August is going to be an interesting month. This could be the Summer of our Discombobulation.

Round Three

The sellers accepted our offer, but only at the last minute. Terhi was out with the kids and I was sweating and weeding in the back yard, listening for the phone. When it finally rang I was half convinced it was our agent calling to tell us they'd refused our offer. I was half right. It was our agent. He didn't provide any details, but it certainly seems like the sellers were holding out until the last minute to see if any other offers came in.

I guess I can't blame them. I was tempted to do the same with the offer we got. But in the end it doesn't matter. We have someplace to go now. And here it is:



I just realized the sign says "No Outlet." Dang! We should have checked that! How are we going to use any of our appliances! Ah dang, we've been took!

Yea, yea, yea...I know. I'm about as funny as a trip on the Titanic.

On Countdown

In three hours we should know if we're going to get the house we want. We looked at four houses yesterday afternoon, and in the end went with the first one we saw. It's very nice--not the biggest of the bunch, but seems to have the best balance of all the features we want. We put in an offer last night, and they have until 11:00 am this morning to decide. I don't know why they wouldn't. We essentially met their asking price. They've been on the market nearly two months, too, which will hopefully be weighing on their minds.

The only down side to all of this is that we won't be able to close on the new house for at least a week after we close on our house. We'll have about a week where we'll have no place to live and all our stuff will be in storage. We're not exactly thrilled, but there is little we can do about it. The kids, of course, will just think it's one big adventure--and in ten years they may not even remember.

Richard won't even remember this house at all. I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's a good thing we have lots of pictures and video. This house will always be special to us. I don't want to forget it.

Paper Mache Houses

I'm beginning to think I could build my own house out of all the paperwork required for the process of selling, financing, and buying a house. Of course the fire insurance would be quite expensive, and heaven help me if it were in a flood zone.

We're going house hunting this afternoon. I'm not sure what caliber of rifle to take. The hard part will be getting it to fit in my freezer. Bwaaaa haaa haaaa haaaa!!!! Oh, I crack myself up!

The weather continues hot.

Great, Kid! Don't Get Caulky!

The last time I re-caulked the tub/shower it took me several days and a lot of headache, not to mention muscle-ache. But I learned from the experience. I did it again last night, and this time it went much more smoothly. It was almost fun. Almost.

Of course I did get caulk all over my fingers, which made me look like I had a terrible skin condition most of the evening until the last of it finally flaked off. The shower looks great, though! I'm very pleased.

Round Two

We accepted an offer last night. While we were signing the papers we got two more calls from agents wanting to show the house. The response has been almost overwhelming, and so incredibly different from last time. We decided not to be greedy or sneaky and just accept the offer rather than trying to stall to see if anything better came along so we could get into a bid war.

After all, these people offered more than our asking price, even after we pay their closing costs. And they must really want the house: Toured it around noon, had an offer to our agent by four.

Nothing is final until it's final, of course. I doubt the inspection will turn up anything too big, but you never know. The appraisal shouldn't present much of a problem. And the only thing we have any control over at this point is finding the house we want to get into. Round Three starts soon.

"Mit Eine Bullet!"

Two years ago we spent four months or so trying to sell our house. We got maybe a half-dozen calls, four or five showings, and an offer we rejected before finally taking our house off the market.

With the exception of taking our house off the market, we've had all of that crammed into two days. We actually had an offer before our house was even fully on the market. Of course it was our agent's parner trying to score an investment property on the cheap, but still, an offer is an offer, and it's a standing one in case something goes wrong and we can't get even close to our asking price anywhere else.

We had at least four showings today, though, so I don't think something is going to go wrong. I've been wrong before. But it sure feels different this time around. To quote an obnoxious Pythonian Frenchman, "Oh yez, eet's verrrry naaaaice!"

Under Weigh

Our house goes on the market today...maybe. The agent hasn't come by with the sign yet, and he evidently found more paperwork for us to fill out, so who knows. It seems a little unreal right now, even though we've been through this before.

It's strange to think that in just a few months I could be going home to a completely different house, sleeping in a different room, but on the same old bed, next to the same old w--

--wooden nightstand! Hah! I'll bet you thought I was going to say "wife," didn't you! Never! My wife is neither old nor the same (living with me kinda does something to you after awhile. In her case, it seems to have made her prettier!).

Yeah, I'm in a weird mood. It's been a long week, but a good one. I've made some serious headway on a major project. I deserve a weekend. By golly, I think I'll go find one! Bye, y'all!

Round One

We have finally selected an agent, though not without much anxiety and emotional churning. Needless to say, I'm drained. But I think we made the right decision. We're giving "the little guy" a chance. I think the point that really focused our decision was the notion that our agent is our face to the people we will be transacting with. They'll likely never see us, but they will probably see our agent. And yet--and we speak from experience here--people will likely make a judgement about us based on the behavior of our agent. We wanted to go with someone who we would be proud to be identified with/by.

It's quite a vote of confidence, really, that we are willing to bet our agent is not going to do anything to embarass us based on a one-hour meeting. So, now we have an agent. We just need a lender..oh yeah, and a buyer, too. Minor detail.

Things You Like To Hear...

...from a lender:

"That's the highest credit rating I've ever seen for someone your age!"

Unreal Estate

We decided that this time around we want to interview several agents before selection one to sell our house. The thought was that, having had a chance to compare and contrast, we'd be more confident in our agent than we were last time. What we're experiencing is more like a series of mood swings. Everyone we've interviewed so far has been very likable, and we've wanted to select them. And they are all working fairly hard for our business, though some more than others.

It's going to be tough choosing, and it's already causing a fair amount of insanity. We interview the last candidate tonight, and I'll be quite glad to get this phase over. Then, of course, there is always the issue of financing. There are almost as many financing options as there are agents, it seems. Fortunately, it will be a little easier to choose a financier. Dollars and cents are always easier to calculate.

I really hope that this will be our last move for awhile. This process has been anything but fun so far. I suspect the rollercoaster is just beginning.

Mission Accomplished

It occurred to me the other day that this weblog is working quite well. It's much easier for me to post, for starters, even though I'm probably not as prolific as I was in my Eloquent Eccentricity days. But then I wasn't nearly so busy back then. It's a tribute to Blogger than I post at all these days.

I'm getting more feedback from family, too, which is good. It's not as good as actual news, but at least I know they're still alive and kicking--and reading.

The best windfall, though, seems to be my brother and sister starting their own Blogger blogs. I hear from them much more often than I used to now. It's proving quite nice.

So all in all, I'd have to say this blog has been a good thing!

Didn't He Ramble...

We're getting ready to put our house on the market. We've started auditioning realtors, and hope to be moving forward soon. It's time to move into something a little bigger before our little house bursts at the seams.

Our daughter decided to get up and play in her bedroom at 3:00 am this morning, waking up her brother. Her excuse: "I couldn't think any more good thoughts." At that point, neither could I. It seems the only one sleeping well these days is the baby.

Work is driving me nuts this week. There's just too much to do, no time to do it, and too many other people who have to do something first. For a four-day work week, it's sure been a long one. I'm glad it's over.

What Can One Say?

My prayers and condolences to the British People. The UK has been America's best and truest friend, and unfortunately that friendship comes with a price. I wish this hadn't happened, but I'm not surprised--other than it took this long. I predict this will not have the desired effect. The British aren't likely to take the Spanish route, and if anything, this will only increase support for Tony Blair and the war on terror.

There are rumors that this will mark the start of a larger offensive by Al Qaeda. Could they really be that foolish? One strike here or there, now and then, is disheartening. A series of strikes would only breed anger and resolve. The smartest thing they could do now would be to lay low. I guess we'll see.

The Sound of Summer Running

We celebrated the holiday by descending en masse with another family on the local elementary school playground. They happen to have a large field with set of picnic benches amid a stand of shade trees conveniently located near a jungle gym and a kickball field. In other words, a place ideally suited for picnics with children.

The weather was perfect. While it did get hot in the afternoon, it was nothing like the 105 degree heat we endured our first year when we selected the local park with no shade trees. To say Walter and Emma had a blast would be a moderate understatement. Emma dashed back and forth between playing with the kids closer to her age and the older kids (in which I include myself) who were playing a child-friendly game involving throwing a big rubber ball in the air and at one another. Walter...he just dashed back and forth for no reason. Both wore big grins and craved frequent hugs.

Richard slept through the entire thing in his carseat, and Terhi enjoyed sitting with him in the shade and watching everyone else cavort about in the sun. When you're a mother, the ability to sit unmolested and do nothing at all (except eat watermelon) is a delightful luxury. The kids needed amazingly little supervision, and even less rescuing.

In short, it was one of those singular moments in which you can feel the sun on your face, the breeze in your hair, and the delight of a body that does (mostly) what you ask of it, while the precious others in your life sporadically enter your orbit like beaming, savanna scented comets; circling, touching, connecting, and then zooming away again, giggling toward aphelion, leaving you solitary amid the grass, and yet indetectibly connected to everyone and everything at once.

Were I Douglas Spaulding from a Bradbury idyll I'd have suddenly realized I was Alive. What I realized, rather, was that I am very, very fortunate--blessed, even. Everything I really need in life was contained in a single schoolyard. And for a long, lazy, startlingly beautiful moment, nothing beyond it mattered.

What's In A Name

Two words I never though I'd see together:

"luxury vinyl"

On a $5 shower curtain, no less...

Comfort and Uncomfortability

My wife and I watched "Sense and Sensibility" last night for our date night. And consumed mass quantities of goodies from the local Russian/import store. I'm really developing a taste for Russian chocolates, but their spice cakes are exquisite. And Nazook isn't bad, either.

I've seen the movie before, but it doesn't get old. Although I've pretty much come to the conclusion that the extent of Hugh Grant's acting range is looking delightfully uncomfortable. Which works very well for 95% of this movie. Emma Thompson is, as always, marvelous. And Alan Rickman...a wonderful underplaying of a man in constant torment. I love his character, Col. Brendan. Forget Edward Ferris, Brendan is my hero. I'm so glad to see him win out in the end--and with a new-and-improved Maryanne.

Anyway, it was a nice evening. The baby could have cooperated better, but...well, he's still only two months old.

Self-Criticism

It's been about a month now since I formally began my new position. I still can't say that I truly have a handle on my job yet. And this week I've had to make some decisions I'm not comfortable with--decisions that effect people's lives. I'm frustrated by the slowness of our progress in getting up and running.

But I'm still enjoying it. I've had some self-doubt, especially when I see the quality of people I have working for me. But all in all, I'm glad I'm in this position, and I still think I can do a good job of it. It's just going to take some time to get comfortable with the rest of the leadership team, for one. And I still need to get used to navigating the hierarchy and the political landscape.

Bottom line: I may not be entirely comfortable doing the job yet, but I'm glad it's me doing the job.

Road Warrior

I'm back at my desk at work today for the first time since Monday morning. And no, I haven't been on a business trip. I've just been spending all my time in other buildings in the company. I work in a building about three miles away from the main campus, and so I usually schedule my meetings so that I don't have to travel back and forth any more than necessary. This week has been quite the marathon.

I'm obviously not very important in the company yet, though, as I only had one voice mail awaiting my return--and that was logged this morning in regards to my 8:00 am meeting. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Maybe it's just that people have learned I can't be reached by phone.

Statistics Lie, and Liars Use Statistics

I was sitting in the employee lunchroom today when a news story came on about the heir of Sam Walton who died yesterday in a plane crash. I couldn't hear the sound, as I was too far away, but I figured out the general thrust of the story when they started showing pictures of other dead celebrity pilots, like John Denver and John F. Kennedy Jr. The connection is obvious. Celebrities have a much higher chance of dying in plane crashes.

Or is it that celebrities tend to be worse pilots? We have a local CEO who is a stunt pilot and crashed his plane while shooting a video for his company. He and his passenger walked away from it, but only because they were extremely lucky.

Or is it just that celebrities are more likely to have the money to own and fly their own planes? Naaaaaaaah!

Not that I need to worry. I'll probably never be a celebrity. And if I do become one I'll probably not become a pilot. Take up skydiving, perhaps....

Seattle-On-The-Boise

We had a few days of harsh heat last week, but we're back to cooler weather and rain. It's almost like the weather is saying, "I heard that. You want warmer weather, do you? Well, do ya Punk? Do you remember what hot weather feels like?! Try THIS!! Okay, now do you really want hot weather? I didn't think so..."

Our strawberries and raspberries are loving it, and I prefer cooler weather, so this is great by me. But I still can't seem to catch a break long enough to spray our weeds. It's either raining or blowing, and neither one is good for using Roundup. But all in all, it could be much, much worse. Like 110 degrees.

We watched "Miss Congeniality" over the weekend. Cute movie, though we probably spent more time trying to figure out where we'd seen "Miss Rhode Island" before than we did laughing. (Incidentally, the answer is "You've Got Mail.") Still, not a bad movie. Sandra Bullock is always good for a smile.

Anyone Got A Problem With That? Besides Me?

I cry over movies. And books. And, in rare cases, televisions shows. And yeah, I'm not exactly keen on letting people see it. It's okay when I'm watching a movie at home with my wife. Chances are she'll be needing the Kleenex box too. But when I'm out with "the guys" watching Revenge of the Sith and I can't talk afterwards because I'm sobbing inside...well, I'm not opposed to displaying emotion, necessarily. It's just sometimes my level of emotion seems out of proportion with the subject material. I mean come on, it's not like the ending was a SURPRISE!

Fortunately I was more or less alone when I watched the final episode of Babylon 5 the other night. Talk about heart-rending! It's not just that the series was ending--I barely got misty over the ending of ST:TNG. But these are characters I cared about, people who taught me a lot about myself during the course of 110 episodes. I was a wreck by the end.

And then last night I went back and watched it again with the director's commentary track. I still cried, even when I could barely hear the dialogue or the soundtrack. The director's summation(and indeed, much of the cast's) was that shows like that don't happen very often. The level of synergy was incredible. The show deserves every award it ever received and then some.

I've never had the chance to see anything J. Michael Straczynski has produced since then (which, checking at IMDB, isn't much), but I suspect it would be rather difficult to top Babylon 5. I'll probably lose my geek card over this, but if I could only own one Sci-Fi series on DVD it would be Babylon 5, hands down. Not that I don't love Star Trek or Star Wars, but as a cohesive whole, B5 holds together better than the others and has more to say worth listening to. Babylon 5 transcends its genre, even its medium.

And that's worth a tear or two.

Things I've Learned From My Kids...

- Bananas are nature's perfect food.
- Cheerios are the perfect manmade food.
- A two-year-old boy can not only survive an entire day on half a cup of Cheerios, but can derive more energy from them than an adult can from three full meals.
- "Why?" is the best response to any statement or question.
- "Because" is only an acceptable answer when coming from a child.
- Even when there are hundreds of toys to choose from, two or more children will always want the same one at the same time.
- "Because someone else is" is always a good reason to cry.
- Anything is a good reason to cry.
- No matter how many times momma leaves and comes back, she might not this time!
- Not reading a book the same way every time will upset the cosmic balance and doom us all!
- Any unknown object/substance should be identified by tasting.
- Toys go in mouths...food does not, unless bananas or Cheerios.
- It doesn't matter if something tasted good last week or yesterday, it might not today and is therefore suspect.
- Any new food is guilty until provent innocent.
- Cats make good toys.
- Even if I sit on you, DON'T TOUCH ME!
- The desire to have Mommy or Daddy do something again will increase in direct proportion to the effort required by aforementioned parents.
- Everything should be repeated as rapidly and loudly as possible until the parent in question shouts their acknowledgement to be heard over your repeating everything as rapidly and loudly as possible.
- Time-out is excruciatingly painful and never justified.
- Commercials are the only important parts of any program. The parts between commercials are for playing/fighting as loudly as possible.
- Bees are scary, and everything that flies is a bee.
- Children are beautiful little angels when sleeping and at other random intervals.
- A smile from a two-month-old can cause temporary amnesia.
- "I love you, Daddy," is a powerful phrase, and extremely fun when used just as Daddy reaches the peak of frustration.
- Lawnmowers are as fascinating as they are scary.
- Children's ears are "far-sighted." They can't hear you when you are right next to them, but can pick up a whisper clear across the house.
- Children do not require air to speak.
- What they don't tell you in diaper commercials is that diapers operate quite differently when occupied.
- The volume, stench, and "spread" of a diaper will always increase in opposition to the amount of time you have to devote to clean-up.
- The act of getting ready to leave the house triggers bowel movements in children.
- I still wouldn't trade being a parent for anything.

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch...

Our house is back to its originaly occupancy (I was going to say "our house is quiet again," but that's NEVER the case, even at night, as the two cats like to play "impersonate a rampaging buffalo herd" at all hours). My mother-in-law should be home by now, and we're readjusting to three kids and two adults in the house. I suspect my adjustment will be much easier than my wife's.

Our baby surprised us last night by going to sleep by himself and at least an hour earlier than usual. I must say the extra sleep was nice. I'm not expecting tonight to go as well, though. I guess that makes me a pessimist, but I prefer to think of it as "managing expectations." You have to say this for pessimists: their only surprises are pleasant ones.

With Mom gone we've now concluded our "social calendar" for the year. This Spring was pretty well packed with various family events, but now there's nothing. The only thing hanging out there now is the ever-ambiguous "get a bigger house." Not much to look forward to for awhile. I'm definitely looking forward to the Fourth of July, though. The next couple weeks are going to be killers at work. Even if the day off will just mean I have to compress the same number of things into a shorter work week, I'll enjoy being away for an extra day.

My little boy is two months old today! It's amazing how the time can seem simultaneously so short and so long. So much has happened. They say the older you get the faster the time goes. In that case it won't be long before I'd better just sit down and watch everything get blurry.

Star Trek 24: So Very Tired

I was in a meeting yesterday where the facilitator asked us to introduce ourselves by stating our name, position, and where we'd like to be instead of in that meeting. Everyone else listed off numerous exotic or fun locations. I said "anywhere with a comfortable bed and no one to wake me up."

I've got very little to complain about, really. It's been a good, productive week. But if the kids could all manage to sleep in tomorrow morning I'd feel extremely blessed.

It's Father's Day this weekend. Our church tends to have a lot of auxilary meetings on Sundays. When it's Mother's Day we usually cancel most or all of those. When it's Fathers Day we don't. It could be a double standard, or it could be that since it's the men who generally call the meetings, we'd feel guilty canceling them in order to celebrate...ourselves. In any event, I don't foresee a Fathers Day Nap in my future.

The Fourth of July is right around the corner. What a concept. This year is flying by. I'll get that day off, but what I'd really like is to have the next day off so we can all recover from being kept awake all night by our local chapter of PWMMTB (Pyromaniacs With More Money Than Brains). Its nights like that that make me wish I had one of those police trucks with the anti-riot water cannons. Now THAT would be fun! Try lighting your illegal rockets NOW, sulpher-breath!

Yeah, I need to get a grip.

UnHollywood Babylon

Thanks to my son I'm making significant progress through Babylon 5 - Season Five. I have to admit that things are really picking up now. The first half of the season seems to be setting things up for the last half, and the whole "telepaths" arc was something dramatic to slide in there to keep us interested while the larger arc unfolds.

At any rate, the last episode I watched last night, "And All My Dreams, Torn Asunder" was one of the best episodes I've seen in awhile. The "farewell" scene between G'Kar and Delenn was one of the best moments of the series.

The other poignant aspect was the continued relationship between G'Kar and Londo, and now their inextricable linking of destinies. They are both headed into a long, dark night, but yet they are world apart. On one hand we have Londo, marching headlong into the abyss. All through the series he has allowed circumstances to rule him--very rarely has he shown the independent will to choose a path other than the path of least resistance. His mantra for the series has been "I have no choice."

On the other hand we have G'Kar. Early in the series he was Londo's counterpart in every sense. He was just as reactionary as Londo in the beginning, yet along the way he learned that he has a choice--and he exercises that choice. As a result, his life becomes very, very different.

And now, as the series winds to a close, we see both men on a path that will end with their eventual deaths. Londo lacks the will to avoid this fate. G'Kar has every opportunity to avoid it, but exercises the will to embrace it. There is something majestically tragic about them both.

The morale to Londo's tale is quite clear. But I'm still deliberating on the point to G'Kar's end. He's already played the Christ Figure. He's saved his people through great personal sacrifice. Is Straczinsky elaborating by pointing out that to sacrifice openly for millions is noble, but to sacrifice in obscurity--and in vain--for just one person is every bit as noble?

I don't know, but it's powerful stuff. And such is the appeal of Babylon 5, I believe. Yes, it's sci-fi. Yes, it's aliens and spaceships and wars and petty differences. But it's also about something much, much larger. It is naked morality. It is, as Straczinsky posits, the Universe trying to figure itself out.

And that is why my staying up late taking care of my boy so my wife can sleep is no sacrifice at all. I get to watch B5. It's not mindless entertainment. It's a nightly exploration into the essence of humanity and character. It's not television. It's Literature, by any other name.

I Am Manager. Fear Me.

I wish I could say that things are completely different from last week. But it's not. I run all day, go home, play with the kids, get them to bed, do more work, then help get the baby to bed. Wash, rinse, repeat. It's not a bad life, but I'm going to need some variety before long.

I am at least starting to make some progress, though. This position is very demanding, but it won't last. We're starting from the ground up, and that takes time. But eventually it's got to get into a routine. Getting to that point presents a significant growth opportunity. As ma' momma always tol' me, whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger. Since only one thing will ever kill you, everything else is good for you, right?

The up side of all this chaos is that I'm appreciating the little things more, as that's all I have time for. Our baby has started to smile, and it's amazing. Playing in the sand can be fun and therapeutic. Weinernougat candies in my lunch are like a ray of sunshine. Snuggling up to my wife for those few minutes between when the baby goes to sleep and wakes up again is a rich reward. A few seconds of enjoyment here and there can keep you going.

There is so much that isn't getting done. We hadn't planned on growing a garden this year, but we hadn't planned on growing weeds, either. But we are, because my few free minutes and the weather haven't connected to where I can spray weed killer. But it's not the end of the world. Life will go on. We have sparrows nesting in the patio rafters outside our back door. And that's cool.

Another unexpected gift: I found out today that our company's goal-setting year matches the fiscal year. All the goals I had set to complete by the end of the second quarter are not due until the end of next month. What a difference a month makes. I have a fighting chance now.

Day by day. One step at a time. We'll get there.

Laptop Therapy

I got a company laptop today. And of course all my meetings cancelled, so I haven't had a chance to try it out. So far the only difference is that I have a box sitting ON my desk instead of UNDER it. That's okay. I intend to take it for a test drive this weekend.

I've been getting more chances to watch Babylon 5 lately, not necessarily by choice. Our baby is having a hard time getting to sleep in the evenings. My wife feeds him to overflowing, so that's not the issue. So I stay up with him until he crashes while she gets some sleep.

Thank heaven for DVD! At that hour I don't want to make any noise, so I just turn on the English subtitles and read the show. At this rate I should be through with the fifth season by the end of the month, though, so I hope this problem is short term.

Unfortunately, B5's fifth season was not their best work. Since J. Michael Stracynzky didn't know the show would be picked up for the fifth season, he wrapped up as much as he could in the fourth. As a result he didn't have much to cover in the fifth, and since there was nothing beyond that anyhow, he couldn't really afford to open up any new long-term plot arcs. The "telepaths" arc just doesn't grab me. The "teeps" remind me too much of the type of people that hang around comic book and game stores for me to feel any real empathy for them.

About the only plot arc still worth watching (I'm sorry, but Captain Lockley just doesn't do it for me. Too bad Ivanova had to go) is Londo Mollari and G'Kar. We get to witness Londo's long descent into hell, and it's not fun viewing. Other than that, the other characters show up too seldom to keep me caring about them. It's all a rather hollow ending to the series, in my opinion. Maybe it'll get better.

The weekend is almost here. I'd say I really need one, but I don't know that my weekend will be that much to talk about. Who knows. The world is always more dreary when you're tired.

Welcome to the Jungle!

The foothills are green. I've never seen the foothills so green for so long. Usually they're green for all of a week in early Spring. Certainly not by June. They're usually a baked, dusty brown by now.

My lawn is getting shaggy yet again. I may get to mow it tonight if I'm lucky. It will probably rain again. Well, at least it's good for the flowers my wife planted. And we've never had this many strawberries this early in the year.

The weather is just plain screwy this year. I blame the Bush administration. There's got to be a connection to Halliburton somewhere.

More Laptop Envy and Feelings of Inadequacy

Last week is a blur. And I'm getting a laptop. I spent much of the week away from my desk, and I got nearly nothing done beyond meeting my team members. Which is good, as that was my primary goal for the week. But I'm farther behind on everything else. A laptop would have helped, and I was seriously considering asking for one when my manager noticed I don't have one. The order went in the very next morning.

One thing I noticed last week is that nearly everyone on my team is more experienced than I am. So either they had no interest in being a team lead, or IT experience was not the primary criterium for my position. It's a bit intimidating at any rate. But I suppose it can't be any harder being the administrative leader to a dozen people than it was being the spiritual leader of a couple dozen. Just as in the latter case I have to assume that I'm where I am for a reason and just go with it. And just like Smith Barney, I'll have to gain trust the old fashioned way: earn it.

This week is looking a little less frantic. Fewer meetings, for one thing. I'll have more time to get my ducks in a row to the point where I can start delegating a little. There is no way I can do this all myself, and there's no reason why I should try. I've already got more than enough work to make me feel invested in the team. I should spread it around a little and let my team invest some of themselves, too.

Which is possibly a sneaky way to learn a few more things about them, too.

"Well Met, Good Sir!"

My daughter has strep. Somehow the rest of us seem to have avoided it. But it did end up making for a limited weekend. Our Memorial Day plans changed somewhat, our picnic in the park turning into a picnic in the back yard.

But we managed to find some excitement. Like three police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck visiting our neighbors' house. We have no idea what happened, other than a young woman being brought out on a stretcher. The kids found it all quite entertaining.

I saw "Revenge of the Sith" over the weekend. It was pretty good; very dark and emotional. Not exactly the "feel-good movie of the summer." But quite well done, for the most part. Yeah, I could nitpick, but I won't.

My younger brother recently announced he is buying a restaurant business. Being somewhat concerned, I gave him a call this weekend. Not wanting to show a lack of support by being too critical, I began with a tactful approach: "Have you lost your mind?!?!?!" But as the story came out, it became evident that this really is a good opportunity for him that he'd be nuts to pass up. I think he'll do well.

This week I dive in head-first on my new position. I'll be spending most of the week in meetings; getting to know my team, interviewing new candidates, or in planning for the new team. It'll be a really short week in a lot of ways. As I'm an introvert, I anticipate heavy exhaustion.

It's going to be hard to resist the urge to veg out when I get home each night.

A Darker Shade of Worry

My daughter woke up crying last night. I went to stroke her hair and was surprised to find her hair damp and her skin burning. She'd complained of being cold before going to bed, but I'd figured it was because of the incessant air conditioning. We checked her temperature: 101.1. Not serious, but enough of a concern.

Sickness carries with it varying degrees of worry. When it's me, I'm not that concerned. I just need to stick it out long enough for whatever it is to go away. When it's my wife I worry some: I'm anxious for her, but know that she can take care of herself. When its one of my kids worry gnaws on me constantly.

Children seem so fragile you want to protect them from everything. When they get sick it's hard not to take it personally: where did I fail? Illness is also more pronounced in kids, I think. They're normally so bright and energetic that illness makes them seem like hollow shells by comparison. You worry that they'll never get their spark back.

They're also so honest. They don't--and can't--hide their suffering. It's a constant reminder of just how helpless we parents really are. Yes, there are things we can do to make them more comfortable, to help them recover faster, but ultimately we're not in charge. They're in the grip of Time at best, Fate at worst.

I don't like it. As ornery as she can be, I want my little girl back. And perhaps that's the point. Perhaps it's God's way of reminding us to maintain pespective. Yes, a child who fights with her sibling, asks incessant questions, and sulks over trivial setbacks may be annoying, but if she's not healthy, the rest suddenly becomes unimportant.

She was markedly improved this morning. But that doesn't keep me from worrying. It's in the genes. It's in the job description. And, I suspect, it's just the tip of the iceberg.

Green-Eyed Monster

My son woke up in a very good mood this morning. He came up behind me while I was shaving, and when I turned around he transfixed me with a silly grin and two striking green eyes brimming with mischief, mirth, and the sheer joy of being alive. He was having fun just being.

I defy anyone to see him when he gets this way and not at least smile. Me? I wanted to grab him, hold him close, and beg him to teach me how he does it. But I know better. It's not something that can be taught. Not entirely, anyway. Sure, I could rediscover the joy of playing. But the innocence and unrestrained nature of a child--well, I've lost that forever. Ever since I learned that life is not fair, that there are worse things than monsters under the bed, and that a bandaid and a kiss is insufficient for far too many of life's pains.

But I do believe there is hope for me. Even if I can no longer feel the joy he feels, I can at least appreciate it. I can recognize it when I see it. And it thrills me to no end that he wants to share it with me, that perhaps he even thinks I CAN share it.

I don't know. Maybe I can. Maybe it just takes more work at my age.

Spreading the Love Coast to Coast

One of my first official duties in my new position is to set up a team meeting. Trying to find open slots in thirty-five people's schedules is tricky enough. Spread that team across four offices in three time zones, and...well, you exceed the capabilities of Microsoft Outlook, for one. And I volunteered to be the team communications lead. Silly rabbit!

We had a meeting yesterday involving many of the those who are now on the team, and we opened it up to questions. I should have expected it, really, but I was a bit surprised that not everyone was as excited about the change as I am. I should have remembered that change is not easy for many people. I'm usually an early-adopter, and while I can understand the people who are slow to adopt, I have a hard time understanding those who outright resist the change. Especially when what is being changed has always been a pain-point for everyone.

It has also been interesting to see the eager-beavers come forward. One person on my team emailed me to introduce himself shortly after the announcement went out. Another has written in response to my email that I would be contacting everyone shortly. A third came from someone on another team within the group, but who has a strong interest in some of the areas I'm in charge of. I'm not sure what to make of it yet, but it is interesting to note, at any rate.

Meanwhile, my last project reared a half-dead head again today. I've got more work to do than I have time to do it. Hee hee! This is fun!

...for now.

Now It Can Be Told, Part 2

Today, over a month after I found out, the announcement came out about my new position. I will be a team lead in a new group that's being formed in our IT division. I'll be over about ten to fifteen people, and working with my fellow team leads to provide structure, methodology, and direction for our group. It's a wonderful opportunity, and I'm excited about it. I'm also very relieved to finally be able to talk about it!

Now it can be told

Yesterday I was assigned as the ward executive secretary, which means I get to try and keep the bishop and his two counselors organized. It also means I get to attend a whole bunch of meetings every Sunday morning. I'm not looking forward to that. Poor Terhi will be holding down the fort. Sunday mornings are usually difficult as it is.

But what can I say? I do believe in God, and I do believe He has been taking very good care of my family. If He wants five or six hours a week more of my time in return I can hardly begrudge. Especially since whenever I do what is asked of me I generally get even more blessings in return. I've pretty much given up ever pulling even.

A friend of mine was called to a position I used to hold--one every bit as demanding as my new one, if not moreso. I extended him my "congrolences" briefly, but I didn't get the chance to reassure him that he'd do fine--and that there would be plenty of blessings forthcoming if he put in the effort. I should take the time this week to let him know.

I have a feeling I'll be looking back years from now and viewing this time as a major watershed period for the rest of my life. And I'm pretty sure I mean that in a good way.

Familyarity Breeds Contentment

My sister and her family visited yesterday. We haven't seen them in nearly two years. The last time they were here our boys were still babies, barely able to move. The three months age difference between Walter and his cousin was quite pronounced. Now it's hardly noticeable.

I'm not sure what my nephew thought of his cousins. He's an only child, and is obviously not used to the level of spasticity my kids are capable of achieving when wound up. He ended up playing by himself frequently while watching the chaos with an expression that was difficult to gauge. Sometimes it appeared he found it all amusing. Other times he seemed to be thinking "What is WRONG with those KIDS?! I hope they don't break Daddy!"

It was good to see them again, even if only for a few hours. We really need to visit them on their turf sometime.

Life in a Northern Town

A-hey-am-ma-ma-ma, A-hey-am-ma-ma-ma-heeeeeeey-a!

We live on the desert side of the Cascades, but you wouldn't know it lately. We've had rain at least every other day for the last two weeks at least. My lawn is about two days from being classified "Dense Undergrowth." People are cursing the rain.

In two months from now we'll be burning up in 100+ degree heat and wishing we could see any rain at all. There's just no pleasing the denizens of the high desert.

Summer is just around the corner. The schoolkids are restless. The evenings are fragrant and beckoning (when it's not raining). Mornings dangle the promise of a new day like Willie Wonka introducing "The Chocolate Room."

Ah, to be a kid again, when Summer Vacation meant something. Now I have to dig out "Dandelion Wine" if I want to recapture the magic of a new summer about to be born. I need some new tennis shoes.

Litefoot then, Litefoot!

"The Great Conjunction" Is At Hand!

My mother-in-law arrives tonight for a five week stay. My sister and her family will be visiting for a few days later this week. In a couple of weeks my folks will likely be coming to visit when we have our baby blessed. My new job starts this week. We're putting our house up for sale.

It's the end of everything! Or the beginning. Augra knows! Augra has seen!

There's a Story There

I pass through a school zone on my way to work every day. Ever since I started driving that way the same woman has been the crossing guard. Last week I saw her with another woman, and it seemed evident that there was some sort of training going on. This morning the new woman was there by herself. I wonder what happened to the original lady.

Did she retire? Did she become a paid actor for a Procrit commercial? Did she go on vacation? Did she get the crossing-guard equivalent of a promotion and is now guarding the much-busier Fairview and Cole crossings? I've never been able to resist a good story, and I know there's one there.

All through the winter I was tempted to buy her a gift certificate to the local coffeeshop and present it to her as a passing stranger appreciating her work. I wish I had.

How To Frighten Your Parents...

Overheard this weekend, my 4-year-old daughter to her 2-year-old brother:

"That's very dangerous. Want to try it?"

If I Do Say So Myself...

I just completed the big, exhaustive project that was standing between me and my new position. No wonder I feel tired. I just completed over 450 pages of test scripts. I hate writing test scripts.

Yet I have to admit I learned quite a bit in the process. It took me several weeks to complete the first 150 pages or so. It took me about a week to finish the last 300 (probably 200 pages coming in the last couple days). Most of the productivity in the last phase was from the extra time I took on the first phase, creating templates and designing strategies. If ever I have to write a test script again (and I really hope not), I'll be much better prepared.

I'm feeling rather satisfied at the moment.

He draws the line SOMEWHERE...

MSNBC is displaying the following headline:

"Culkin denies being molested by Jackson during testimony"

Well of course not, even Michael Jackson knows that would be a little conspicuous--I mean, right there in the court room and all...

American History In Hindsight

I'm reading a biography of Alexander Hamilton right now that has really opened my eyes. It's so easy for us to sit here today with over 200 years of history behind us and think "well of course things worked out for our country." This book takes place during a time when many people were giving the United States about as much chance of success as many people are giving the Iraqi democracy today.

The idea of a strong federal government was not only new, but openly resisted. People were actually afraid of George Washington wanting to be come a king. And many people not only thought of France as our great Brother in Democracy, but felt that the French Revolution was a very, very good thing--even with its "excusable excesses."

The amount of political infighting among Washington's cabinet makes the rumored Colin Powell vs. Donald Rumsfeld discord sound like a meeting of like minds. Hamilton and Jefferson were absolutely determined to destroy one another, as each felt the other was a serious threat to the country.

And the newspapers! You think we have a problem with media bias and integrity today?! Back then they could--and would--publish anything they wanted, even outright libel, and do so anonymously. Newspapers didn't even attempt to feign impartiality--they were blatant party mechanisms. The political atmosphere these days almost seems cordial by comparison.

I admit to having had such a limited and idealized view of our Founding Fathers and the early days of America, that this book almost reads like one of those "alternative timeline" novels that are becoming increasingly popular. Alexander Hamilton, while hardly an angel, is a fascinating--and evidently unfairly maligned--person.

Drama, intrigue, scandal, rampant capitalism...this book has it all!

Weekend of Wonder

..as in, "I wonder where that weekend went."

We had my parents come to visit, for one thing, which usually makes things go quickly. While I talked with them in the kitchen I mixed up another batch of veggie burgers. Yes, I'm a de facto vegetarian. It's downright un-American of me, but I've decided that a good veggie burger is better than a hamburger, mainly because of the subtleties in taste--and because the veggie burger doesn't sit like a rock in my gut for the next twelve hours or so.

The trouble is, most veggie burgers are expensive, and the cheap ones are...well, cheap. So I got bold last year and tried making my own. I conducted a little industrial espionage and stole the ingredients list from a major fast food chain that will remain nameless (they've since switched suppliers, anyhow). The proportions, however, were all a big guess. They turned out pretty good, but I'm convinced I can do better.

This batch wasn't an improvement, other than taking less time to do. I think I need more vegetables and less filler/glue, but it'll be at least another six months or so before I try again. This batch made enough to last us at least that long.

We got lots and lots of rain this weekend. At this rate, by the time I get a chance to mow my lawn I'll need the weedwhacker.

The Expensive Kite

We had a thunderstorm roll through the valley last night, which included some high winds. I decided to check on our back yard at one point and noticed our shade canopy was missing, even though I'd tied it down to our house, a patio pillar and the fence. I stepped outside to locate it and finally found it--hanging from the corner of our neighbor's roof, two stories up.

I finally got it down with some help from the neighbors. Several frame poles are bent, and there's a two-foot gash in the canvas. I suspect it's a write-off. For now I partly disassembled the thing and rolled it up to get it out of the way.

I haven't even sent in for the rebate yet.

Positive Energy

There's a project I'm working on at work that has been just killing me for months. I've started on it about five times now and had to go back or start over to the point where I just hate it. Unfortunately, I have to finish it before I can transition to my new position.

Today for some reason I caught a new burst of energy. I threw myself into the project and was amazed at what time it was when I finally bothered to look up. I'm still not done, but I finished off a major, major chunk today. The psychological victory was greater than the physical one, most likely, and I now have hopes to have this thing wrapped up in a week.

I would have done more today, but I am training people in Boston tomorrow (they're in Boston, I'm not--ah, the wonders of modern technology) and had to crank out a supplemental training manual. I wasn't quite done with it at quitting time, and I found myself wanting to stay late to finish it. So I did. Only half an hour, I was on such a roll. The sense of accomplishment was thick in the air as I dashed for the car. Go me!

Tomorrow will be crazy. Five meetings, and little time to prepare for any of them. But by the time the smoke clears I'll have yet another transition-barrier wrapped up. Woohoo!

----

Best sentence I've read in awhile, and it comes from a cereal box:
"Have young children guess from a small group of objects laid before them which object was taken away while their eyes were closed."

Sheer poetry! An entire game instruction in a single, grammatically correct sentence. Somebody really deserves a handshake for that one.

Okay, I'm weird. You expected something else?

Negative Energy

It seemed yesterday like everyone around me was fighting or in a bad mood. It's a weakness of mine that I can't be exposed to that kind of emotion for long without soaking it up--even if it's not directed at me. It's something I'm trying to overcome.

I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stop being affected by second-hand emotion, but I can change how I react to it, and that's where I'm trying to focus my efforts. It would be best if I could learn not to react at all, but for now I'm trying to channel my energies into at least more productive reactions. It will be an important "growth opportunity," considering my new position at work.

Meanwhile, here's a kudo to my wife:
"Stay At Home Moms Deserve Higher Pay"

I'm glad I don't have to pay her. I could never afford her on my salary. ;-)

On the Doorstep

I took the kids out for a walk after dinner last night to give their mother a little time to relax. It was a beautiful Spring evening, marred only by the fact that it's garbage day this morning, and a lot of garbage was blocking the sidewalk. My daughter is barely learning to ride her bike--with training wheels. Lots of garbage means lots of detours.

But in spite of all that we still didn't take as long as I'd hoped, so when we got home we sat out on the doorstep for awhile. Walter was glad to be outside, and like a young colt, bolted up and down the stairs and all around the yard at breakneck speed. Emma sat next to me for awhile, then went inside to get her magnetic doodle board. Before I knew it we were taking turns sketching items we could see and giving it to the other to guess. Sort of a game of "I Spy" without the verbal components. MagnaDoodles (TM) are not the most accurate media.

Every so often Walter would return, wrap his arms around my neck from behind, and lay across my back. I'd grab his arms, rock forward, and suspend him there for a moment or two. Then I'd let him back down and off he'd go.

The neighbors across the street were having a party, and at the moment they were listening to some country music (It later devolved to heavy-bassed rap that vibrated our house, but for the moment it was enjoyable). The yard was full of flowers, but the stinky mock-pear had lost its blooms, and the air smelled alternately of tulips and barbecue--either way, not a bad smell by any means.

Eventually it was time to go in, and after a few more hours I was about ready to give the neighbors a piece of my mind, but for a few moments, life was perfect.