Today's Image
7/13/2005
Quickness
 

Right now, in my house:

  • My father, asleep on my couch
  • My mother, upstairs playing with my sons
  • Pizza dough rising on the kitchen table
  • The weirdest, most freaking eclectic music collection ever playing on iTunes (Seriously, the next five songs up in the shuffle are:
    1. "We are One," Angelique Kidjo
    2. "Hungry Like the Wolf," Duran Duran
    3. Missa Brevis in D, "Gloria," Benjamin Britten
    4. "Help Save the Youth of America," Billy Bragg
    5. "Moon Moon Moon," Laurie Berkner
    ...and it just goes on and on like that)
  • My ceiling fans circulating air that is not too hot, not too cold, not too humid, and not bad in the least for mid-July
  • Outside in my backyard, this:

    now looks like this:

    This is, of course, after a series of this sort of thing over the weekend and into this week:

    Tree removal, I Tree removal, II Tree removal, III Tree removal, IV 

    Kiddo watching the work Mr Cheeks hating the noise Tree removal, V Tree removal, VI

    Tree removal, VII Tree removal, VIII Tree removal, IX Tree removal, X

    Tree removal, XI Tree removal, XII Tree removal, XIII Tree removal, XIV

    The tree was pretty sick and dying; another tree of some other variety had actually begun to grow out of the main trunk, which getting hollow. (Sam, when he heard this, muttered something about Keebler elves.) When the wind blew hard, the whole tree swayed alarmingly, and we were beginning to worry about whether it might fall. It needed to come down. Eric saved a few slices from the main trunk, though we're not certain what we'll do with them.

    Up in Sam's room, it looks like this:

    Sam's been fascinated with locations and geography for a while now. He likes looking at maps of the US, pointing out the big states (one of his LeapPad books says the names of each state he touches on a map, so he enjoys that even more), and he asks where various relatives live and whether he can go there soon - "Grandma A. is in Maryland; Uncle Cory is in Myrtle Beach!" Recently he started putting the pieces together and can now give almost his entire address, down to the street, as part of a nested series: the street, in the town, in the state, in the country, on the planet.

    I hit upon an idea to help further his interest and his education in this, perhaps creating a future cartographer (or at least somebody with a better sense of direction than me). I posted this on my weblog:

    "...To that end, would you guys be willing to send Sam postcards that we could hang on the wall around the map? I'm thinking we'll use lengths of yarn to mark from where on the map the postcard was sent. Even if he only gets a few, I think it would be a neat experience for him. He adores getting mail, what little bit is addressed to him from marketers or our parents, so this should send him into transports!"

    The response has been great so far, and he's already gotten his first postcard (thanks, Sue!), and he's quite impressed that it arrived here on an airplane. If anybody else would like to help Sam out, leave a comment or email, and I'll give you the address.


    Me? I'm doing okay. Gabe's needy as needy can be, but for whatever reason, he's taken to my parents as wholeheartedly as Sam did as a baby (I worried at the beach, when Gabe wouldn't let anybody touch him), and I'm getting some "touch-free" time to recharge myself. Hopefully, this will fill me up for a while.

    That said, I'm off to spend some more time wth the family. Eric's making the pizzas now, and they smell divine.

    previous one year ago:
    There's just no local ethnic diversity in food, but I'm willing to make the drive for Indian.
    two years ago:
    I've no idea how anyone ever manages to let his baby cry to teach sleep; my son's no baby any longer, and yet the sound of his sobs rips at my soul.
    three years ago:
    Let's see; you're taking two and three steps on your own now without falling down.
    four years ago:
    These days are fleeting, and if I don't move quickly to capture them with words, with pictures, and with memories, I'll be left with nothing but some outgrown diapers and too small toys.
    five years ago:
    I felt a chill and sank into a litany: Oh, please, don't let him fly, don't let him come here, let him just sit there and stare and hoot, don't let him fly around, don't let him move, no flying, not around me, oh, please.
    next
In the ears:
Green Jelly, "House Me Teenage Rave"

On the Bookshelf:
Play Dates

Gratuitous Sam

Biking with grandparents

Mmmmmm

Showing his map



Extra Gabe

Morose

Mad face

Spilling



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©1999-2003 C. Richmond.