Long time, no write. I've been busy establishing my new role in the house, having given up on ruling the world. As it turns out, I've found out in my elder years I get intense satisfaction just manipulating the two-leggeds that I allow to live with me.

For example, in the mornings one of the two-leggeds will start moving under the covers around five. They think I sleep in the bed to be 'close' to them. No chance. It's so that I can trigger off their movements. Sometimes the tall one will start moving around as early as two. I take that as the sign for me to begin the wake-up ritual. The wake-up ritual begins with me talking as I walk around the house. I talk about inane things because they can not understand me. Sometimes, I just walk around talking about how funny it is that they have to shovel my poop. Other times, I simply talk about the fact I think they stink. I mean, they only clean themselves once a day. They do not have my dedication to cleanliness.


I like it when I sense an early awakening. It gives me more time to try to get my morning canned food. Unfortunately, I have not managed to get them to feed me earlier than 7:15. That doesn't mean I will stop trying!

Of course, my dedication to cleaning means that I have to dispose of fur at times. The easiest way is to simply go to a major thoroughfare and cough up a hairball. It makes a clean removal given that the tall two-legged has to remove it and clean the carpet. On the other hand, that can have repercussions. So, I sometimes go lie on the tall two-leggeds clothes now that he has a nice closet. I can leave tufts of fur on his clothes. It is kind of nice. Don't get me wrong, I live hair all over the place. I take great pleasure from watching Daddy pick up fur, look at me with scorn, and put it in the trash can.

However, the ultimate pleasure comes from his new shower. He tried to shut the door on me, but he couldn't stand me sitting by the door and talking. 'I can see you through the glass. You're naked. You look funny.' After that, he let me in the bathroom. Now, I sit on the shower floor and watch him do his 'cleaning.' He turns his back on me. I think it is funny. I drink the water off the floor just to add the finishing 'ick' touch for him...

Yes, life is good. I can tick the tall two-legged off any time I want. I still need to find the key to ticking off the short two-legged. It will come...

Lilo the Cat Instigator

The wedding we attended was on Saturday, and Annie came home on Friday. I had already informed her that she was going to wear the skirt I bought her when I was in Taiwan, but we didn't have an appropriate top to go with it. So, as soon as she came home, we ran to K-Mart. I was not very willing to go to the mall and buy an expensive top given that she despises wearing skirts and dresses, and probably wouldn't wear the new top that often, if ever again. Our goal was to get a top, but I had another purchase planned that I thought she would like.

We made it to the almost-local K-Mart, and began our quest. No offense to Scotts Valley, or to K-Mart, but that particular store sucks. Ok, I guess that sounds offensive. Nevertheless, that's my judgment on that store. The Girls Section had absolutely nothing. Everything had prints of iCarly, or Hannah Montana or some such crud. Nothing dressy. We finally found some tops that would work on a clearance rack for women. I think it was the clearance rack for old ladies from some of the clothes on it. Nevertheless, after 25 minutes we settled on the black sweater that she has on in the picture from the last post.

She was dragging her feet because she is always tired when she returns from her mother's. Apparently, the transition is more stressful than I understand. I told her that I wanted to look at something else, and she started feeling out whether I might let her wear the sweater with black capris instead of the skirt. No, you are wearing that freakin' skirt. It is a cool skirt, and she always receives compliments when she wears it. She just doesn't like skirts. I might not be that fashionable, but when I set my mind to it, I choose well. When I was hoofin' the streets of Taipei, I had my mind set...

She was still looking a little disgruntled when we entered the sporting goods section of K-Mart. I could see it in her face. 'I want to go home.' 'I want to have pizza for dinner.' 'I don't want to be here any more.' I reached up and grabbed a volleyball off of the rack, and she froze. Her eyes were huge, and her face was overtaken by a huge smile. Suddenly, she had energy. I drove home with a happy girl.

When we arrived home, she went in to try on the outfit. She gave her approval for the overall look, and then changed clothes, again. It was time for volleyball. We started practicing serving and hitting to each other. Now, I certainly do not claim to be an expert at volleyball, but I had a feeling that she had misinterpreted what she had learned at school. I tried to get her to hit it the way I thought was appropriate, and she argued that the P.E. teacher had said she was supposed to do it 'that way.' Ok. I thought maybe she would notice that when I did it 'my way,' the ball always went where I wanted it. She marveled at that, but was unwilling to change. Finally, the pain of hitting her forearms won out, and she tried 'my way.' She started getting great hits and serves. I reminded her that I don't know how one is supposed to hit the ball, but I understand physics, and this just made more sense. She interrupted to exclaim, 'I know, I know... Everything you are saying is right. That's what she she was trying to tell us.'

Oh my God. I finally won one. We played volleyball pretty much every waking moment we were home. It was great.



Spike!

Whatever difficulties I seem to have with 'relationships,' one relationship exists that I have so far not messed up: the father-daughter relationship. We had been invited to a wedding yesterday, and Annie really didn't want to go. I toyed with letting her go to a friend's house, but ultimately (and selfishly) decided she should come with me. I was glad to have her there. It was a very long day, and she was on very good behavior. This morning she woke to greet me with two Fathers' Day presents.

The first was a t-shirt that she had decorated. It says things like 'Happy Father's Day,' 'I love you,' and 'you are the world's greatest dad.' I love it and will be sportin' it today with pride.

The second was a poem that she wrote in school that made my eyes water.

My Dad, by Annie Hockanson

My dad's eyes are as blue as the ocean sparkle.

My dad's face is like a cloud of smiles.

My dad's heart is like white fire.

My dad's hands are as tough as old boots.

My dad's mind is like a wise owl.

My dad's voice is like trees dancing.

I love my Daddy!

In particular, I am fond of the part about the trees dancing. That won't mean anything to anyone else but us. I have written about it on here before, but I'll explain it again because I repeat myself a lot. Yes, I am aware of it.

When Annie was tiny, I tried to find various ways to calm her when she was upset. I had a number of tricks, but there was one that was the most powerful, although it was only available on windy days. I would take her out on the deck, hold her tight and start swaying back and forth in what has become known as 'the Daddy Dance.' As the wind came through the valley, the redwoods would sway back and forth. The tall trees have long been taught by evolution that they can bend quite far and be able to eventually stand tall and straight again. The tops of the trees would sway thirty feet in one direction, and then swing back in the other direction as a gust subsided. I would tell Annie that the trees were dancing for her, and she would get quiet and watch them. It had a strange calming affect on her. I did this even when she was technically too young for her eyes to focus that far, but maybe the changing blurry images still got to her. I'd like to think from her poem that she equates the calming strength, stability, flexibility, and grace of the dancing trees with my voice.

Maybe she doesn't but I'll go to my grave thinking it, now.

I hope she will always feel she can turn to me for emotional support and understanding, and that I am able to provide it.

One relationship going right out of so many gone wrong isn't the worst thing...

We just returned from the 4th Grade performance of 'Gold Dust or Bust' at school. Annie did great, and really seemed to be into it. I think she might finally be overcoming her stage fright. Lord knows she did not get that from me!

The poetry her class wrote recently showed up in the monthly school newsletter, and I wanted to share Annie's short poem. It really struck a chord with me...

Fog by Annie Hockanson

Fog looks like mist floating in the air, like a lot
Of snowflakes broken into a million pieces
Got all over me, I could feel it touching my skin.
It felt like cold water in a frozen lake.

Better than the Fall Pig, don't you think, mom?


Hoping for an artistic side to my daughter...

Tonight was Open House at Annie's school. I normally really enjoy it, but I have been emotionally stretched pretty thin lately. At any rate, I received a couple of calls from Annie's mom telling me that she was worried that she was not going to make it in time to get something to eat, and she was hungry. She had a long drive after work, and I understood. So, when the food line was getting close to shutting down, I got in line. She arrived with her baby in her arms right after I picked up her hamburger. I continued collecting her food, and made her burger as she wanted. I helped her get settled on the grass to eat her dinner and went to tell Annie, who was playing with friends, that her mother was there. I didn't mind doing it, but in retrospect, I think I went above and beyond the ex-husband requirements.

At any rate, I went over to the tennis courts where Annie and a bunch of her friends were playing games. As I approached the tennis courts, I noticed something. At this point, I need to digress. I have hung out with the kids of Annie's classes on field trips, school activities, and whatever over a hundred times. There have been multiple... many multiple times where I have found my patience stretched and have used my 'daddy voice' to help a student re-think his or her decisions on what is appropriate behavior. Sometimes the student's parent was present. I always felt bad when that was the case. I apologized to a couple of parents, and the response was always, 'don't apologize. I appreciate him/her hearing it from someone else. Then they don't think it is just mom or dad!' The kids always respond very positively. That is, they seem apologetic, and immediately start behaving better. I always figure it is because they realize someone cares, and I have never met anyone in any of Annie's classes that did not like and respect me. I love these kids. I had one mother ask me if she could borrow my 'daddy voice' because she saw the response.

Ok, so you see where this is going. I take our school very seriously, personally, and compassionately. Returning to our time-line, as I approached the tennis courts, I saw this kid taking small chunks of his hot dog, and throwing them on the ground. At first, I thought he found a bad place in the bun, and was just inappropriately discarding it. But as I continued walking, I saw his face. He was simply wanting to drop crap on the ground. His face had this expression that was disturbing. It was the same expression of psychosis that you see in every movie with a psychopath. You know which one I mean? Not the glee of happiness or joy, but one of sick satisfaction for doing something that one knows they shouldn't do, but are doing. It is more akin to anger than anything else.

Well, after I watched him drop five or six pieces, I stopped and said, "excuse me, please stop doing that." That was all. The kid looked at me with this defiant angry look that I am really unaccustomed to, but he did stop. I walked on. Have I mentioned that this kid could not have been more than seven? We are not talking about a rebellious teenager here. I informed Annie that her mother was there, and she sprinted past me to go see her. I turned and started walking back, wondering how I was going to pass the time until we could go to Annie's classroom. As I approached the location of the 'encounter,' I saw the boy standing next to a woman, and they were both glaring at me with that same stare. I just got of what it reminded me! Children of the Corn! That just came to me...

I was absorbed in thought enough that I almost just walked on, which is what I should have done. They continued glaring for a while, and then turned around. It struck me then that the young angelic boy might have accidentally told someone what I said and twisted it a bit... on accident, of course. I thought to myself that if Annie had behaved like that, I'd want to know. It sounds trivial, but I often believe the devil is in the details. One small bad behavior grows into something bigger. So, I turned around and walked over to the woman. I say 'woman' because calling her a troll would be an insult... to trolls, of course. She glowered at me as I stated as kindly as possible, 'yes, I am the one who saw him dropping stuff on the ground, and asked him to stop.' I actually repeated word for word what I had said to the kid. She snarled and told me that she was sitting there the whole time. My mind was taken aback. Ok, you witnessed it, and didn't care. She snarled again, and told me it was none of my business anyway. As I mentioned earlier, I am a little emotionally frayed. I summoned all of my self-control and kept myself from unleashing a torrent of verbal criticism on her. I would not have cursed, but I definitely would have been heard beyond a small distance around me. Instead, I steadily replied, "this is my school, too, and therefore it IS DEFINITELY my business." She growled back that she was his mother, and she could take care of it. I looked back over my shoulder (wondering if I was going to turn back to her having transformed into a hideous beast coming at me all teeth and claws) to see bits of hotdog strewn all over the ground along a ten foot length of walkway. I turned back and said, "understood, then I leave it to you to make sure this gets cleaned up," and walked away. It never did, of course.

Literally one minute later, I was sitting with Annie and her friends. One of them was eating something and dropped something on the ground. I pointed to it, and she dutifully picked it up and put it in the trash. I was baffled. There are two men who are responsible for the custodial duties for Annie's school. I have known one of them since Kindergarten. I can't imagine the despair these guys see when they look at the school after one of these shin-digs.

As we walked down to see Annie's classroom, I saw the... er... woman again. She was sitting by the big redwood, and had her cellphone out. The way she was handling it looked strange. I asked Annie's mom if it looked like she was trying to take a picture of me. Annie's mom didn't think so, but it sure looked awkward. Another friend said that maybe she will take it to the principal, who will recognize me and say, "I know who that is. What did your son do?"

It seems weird that this would have bothered me at all. It really wasn't the dropping of the food. I have asked many, many kids to pick up their garbage after lunch on field trips. They have all done it without a negative response. Sometimes they take it on with gusto and clean up other kids' areas as well. It was that look. That look that made me realize that if I knew that kid's name, or his mother's, I will see it in the paper sometime. It will in all probability not be for winning the Nobel Prize in Physics...

Judgmental, controlling ass... I know. I am working on it...

It has been a long time in the making, but I am finally able to make use of a fully functional master bathroom! I confess that it has been about three years in the making. I worked on it when I had enough money saved up to do what I needed. Unfortunately, I have no pictures of what it used to look like, but then again, it might be safer that I don't! After all, I live in Santa Cruz County. I mean, really, all I did was re-paint the walls. If I did more than that, I'd have to have a really expensive permit to have someone from the county come out and tell me if I did an acceptable job or not. Since I am not very self critical about my work, I would have really needed them to ensure I did things according to code, which is available mostly online.... so I've been told. No, I did not take it down to the studs. I did not repair the rot in the floor and walls. I did not rebuild the entire closet drain for the toilet. I did not build a brand new tiled shower on my own. After all, I have never done this level of concrete work. Why would I do something like this for my first attempt? I would not have completely gutted the electric and replaced it, including a really cool towel heater that has a control module that is connected to the computer in the study to save energy and only power it during times when a warm towel is desirable. I just used the same Hans Grohe shower head with body sprays and automatic temperature control. I certainly did not add a new wet wall to improve the functionality for multiple people in the bathroom. I mean, how would I ever have managed to move all of the plumbing when one of the walls is positioned over a huge beam? How the heck would I have been able to connect to the original vent pipe from across the room? No. Everything is as it is, with a fresh paint/plaster application. The door to the bathroom, and the doorway to the closet are exactly where they were, and were not moved two feet to provide better accessibility. I do not have the patience or diligence to save up for new Kraftmaid cabinets and Corian countertops/sinks. I also would never replace the strange door that led out to the deck with a glass block window. Nor would I ever add 2" strips to the ceiling joists to provide enough room for a shower fan/vent. The tile floor looks really good for having been there for thirty plus years...

At any rate, yes, it took me three years to re-paint the bathroom and give me access. In fact, it was only last weekend that I managed to take the time to clean the now new looking glass walls for the shower. I even had to hire a contractor to come in and clean it for me so it looks like new.

It was quite difficult to find a good position in the bathroom to take decent pictures of the... um... new paint. Nevertheless, here is a glimpse:

Frankly, the pictures do not do it justice. Every morning I take a shower now, I have to pause for a moment with the water rushing over me, and grin. Not too bad for an electrical engineer. I mean, for a fresh paint job.

Not a contractor... but I play one in my dreams.

The time has come! Every fourth grader in California has to do a Mission Project, and we have finally completed ours. Annie has spent every waking moment that she has been home for the past week and a half working on making the best model of San Juan Bautista that she could... with as little help from her father as possible. I was in charge of power tools, and responded to the occasional 'daddy, this won't go together right,' or 'daddy, this won't stick.'

We started out with a trip to the barn to find wood scraps. I cut the base to the maximum dimensions allowed (12" x 12"), which seems way too small, but oh well. Then we were a bit stymied. We decided to print off a paper model from an on-line vendor to use as a template. Annie cut out and glued the paper model together, so we could get a feeling for the overall size, and number of pieces.

We marked the wood and set to cutting out all the pieces including arches, doors, and windows. It was now my turn, and I cut the wood and swore a lot as the old plywood splintered and chipped. I lost track of how many times I said, 'we can fix that later.' Annie applied the glue to the ends, and promptly plugged her ears while I used the nail gun. After a few pieces, I followed Annie's example and got ear plugs given that I almost broke an ear drum. We stared at it for a while, and decided to look at some pictures on-line because I did not trust the paper model.

Fortunately, we found some good pictures, and after some 'encouragement,' Annie agreed that we should add some details so it looked more realistic. We added buttresses to the side, and I cut a octagonal column to mount to the bell tower, which I believe is intended to also be a buttress, and not just a neat looking column. After that Annie spent hours painstakingly cutting craft sticks and gluing them in place to similar to what is on the real mission. She did a great job.

Next, we bought a can of touch-up drywall texture. This was far easier than my original thought of using drywall mud and a paint roller. Annie sprayed the texture everywhere, which means it is on the deck, her, me, and even the dog, I think. A half-hour later, she put in the window muntins that had been constructed earlier, she was spraying the whole thing with white paint.

We mounted the whole thing to the base, and she started built the door and gate. She stained the plywood that was to be used for the roof, and plugged her ears as I nailed the boards in place. We had talked about ideas for making roof tile, but it was going to be extremely time consuming. Fortunately, I found some plastic forms at the craft store that Annie was able to cut and glue to the roof. They looked great. After the door was installed, Annie started the next super-tedious job. She painted craft sticks with nail polish that was roughly the same color as clay tile, cut them into small squares, well, mostly squares... they were squarish. Anyway she glued all the squares on the base to make the tile walk ways and a small patio at the entrance.

By now, it was really, really looking good. The bells were put in the tower, and we were trying to figure out how to mimic the metal sheets on the bell tower. First we tried copper tape that I had in the garage. It wasn't horrible, but it really didn't look great. Annie would frown when she looked at it. As we pondered what to do, I had an epiphany. Before I picked up Annie on Sunday, I made a pitstop at the lab (work). I remembered some thin circuit board material that I used about ten years ago in an experiment. Unbelievably, I found it in about five minutes. We cut it and glued it in place, and it looked great. It was a little crooked, but it still looked great!

Anyway, all the was left was adding dirt, crosses, and plants. Oh yeah, we needed to mount our 3x5 index card detailing some facts about the mission. Everything went smoothly except the plants. Note to self: do not glue down dirt before gluing down plants! Annie had gone to the garden and got a bucket of dirt, which she sifted through a colander. She spread glue all over the base, and then coated it with dirt. Some of the dirt stayed loose on top (this comes in to play later), and it looked tremendous. Unfortunately, it made it very difficult to glue the plants down now that we had dirt everywhere. Nevertheless, she struggled on. She scraped the dirt away in places, and placed the glue down. Then she mounted a plant. It would come out, she'd moan, and then she did it again. Finally, she had success. Sometimes it took five tries, of course. She mounted some of the artificial plants that she bought with her mom and step-dad, but ultimately decided she wanted to find 'real' plants. We spent 45 minutes walking around the property looking for good plants. Interestingly, she made some really good choices. At any rate, she managed to come up with a few more 'trees' and shrubs, and got them in place. I drilled a hole on top of the bell tower, and she mounted the cross she had made out of toothpicks painted with silver nail polish. It looked stunning. A quick frame was built as a stand for the index card, and the project was complete. I think she held up our reputation for making cool projects like this. Our hotel last year rocked. I'll let you judge for yourself (click on the picture for a larger view)...




You can't see the buttresses or the cemetery, but you get the... er... picture.

Well, as you might expect, the ferns were showing serious signs of wilting this morning, as was the 'bush' made out of redwood needles in the back. However, it still worked. She sat in the car with a towel on her lap as I gently put the project on her lap. Unfortunately, I had to stop a little suddenly, and Annie lost her hold. She reacted quickly, but not before a bunch of dirt flew off and onto the floor. Luckily, nothing broke, and we were able to moderately salvage the dirt problem. It still looked really good. She proudly put it on the table where it looked like the crown jewel of the projects.

It was great, but thank God it is over.


Is the school year over, yet?

I may live in a small and non-affluent community, but our field trips rock! We left Boulder Creek just before eight this morning and ventured to China Town in San Francisco. For whatever reason, I only had two kids in my big, roomy truck. The trip to a field trip is always so informative. You find out so much about what kids are thinking. We talked about video games, video gaming systems, movies, and the boy with us also explored his thoughts on the political structure of the United States. I didn't offer my own thoughts, as I thought this would be inappropriate. However, from my vantage point in the front seat where they could not see my face, I grinned a lot at what this nine year old had to say...

We arrived in San Francisco in really good time. We then spent 25 minutes trying to make the last three miles to the parking garage. I breathed a sigh of relief when I discovered that I could fit my truck in this garage. That is not always the case. We were the second vehicle to make it there, and the kids played on the playground above the parking garage for quite a while before everyone trickled in and we joined our tour guides. I won't go into all we learned about China Town, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. For the most part, I think the kids found it interesting, but I don't think they absorbed what they were being told.

At any rate, we walked down various streets, seeing interesting parts of the community. We visited a Buddhist temple, and while we were there, a lady came in to make an offering to someone. I found that incredible. She left a bowl of fruit on the alter, said some prayers, and then lit a stick of incense at the rear of the room. This is not like a large Christian church. This room was only a little larger than my Chickdominium. She had to walk around 30+ kids and parents to get where she was going. Granted, we quickly cleared a path. It was an incredibly welcoming and personal environment. I was very impressed.

We walked through streets learning about the people who had settled and continue to live in China Town. I won't go into everything, but we visited a fortune cookie 'factory' as well. By the way, fortune cookies were invented in San Francisco. This 'factory' might not have been larger than the Chickdominium. But, we all filed in on one side of the narrow entry aisle, and filed out the next as best we could. The large back of cookies was $3.50. I found it whimsical that there were bags listed as 'adult fortunes,' which cost a dollar more. The guide told me that those were very popular with the elderly. Is that Chinese Viagra?

Everyone we met in the stores was very friendly and welcoming. However, when we were crowding an entire alley, some people walked by that muttered some things that I doubt I will learn from my Chinese lessons with Rosetta Stone. We walked around and learned for an hour and a half. Then we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant. I had been looking forward to this, but it turned out to be my personal low point. I think Annie really enjoyed it, though. As is typical, eggrolls and potsticker were given as appetizers. We drank green tea and water, and with several exceptions were very considerate about turning the Lazy Susan to make sure everyone was covered. Then lunch was served. Huge bowls of chicken chow mien, beef and broccoli, and fried rice. Unfortunately, the boy sitting on my right was not someone I knew. He has never been in one of Annie's classes (including this year), but half of our table was from another class. I was trying to help kids get their food without it ending up all over the table. This boy excitedly grabbed his green tea... and proceeded to dump it on the table and my lap. I looked like I had just had an 'accident.' One of the other parents was kind enough to go get me a pile of napkins, so I just cleaned up as best as I could, and salivated over the food.

By the time I had made sure all the kids I could reach had their food, and were happy, half of them had finished... second helpings. I still had not had a bite. Fortune cookies were being distributed, and I took the opportunity to eat.... actually, 'shovel' may be more appropriate. I am horrible with chopsticks, but I was able to move quite a bit of food very quickly anyway. Unfortunately, I was not fast enough. The same kid that dumped tea on me reached over my plate to get the fortune from the boy to my left. His sleeve was dragging through my food. I told him that it was not appropriate, and he just looked at me with disinterest. He did it three more times. I persevered by envisioning myself holding him by the throat over the balcony outside the restaurant.


Annie and her friends at our table enjoying the cuisine.


After lunch, we chaperones were supposed to walk back towards the parking garage exploring the shops along the way. The kids were allowed to buy a souvenir if they had brought money. As quickly as possible, I abandoned the other chaperones, and was able to find a point of calm again. Annie, Jason, and I were able to leisurely walk through the touristic offerings without me wanting to strangle anyone. Annie bought a dragon for luck that is really cool, and she has given it a place of honor in her room. Jason got a very interesting wooden crocodile. It is kind of hard to explain, but it has a tremendous number of movable joints, and moves around at the slightest touch. The lady that ran the register was great. She laughed when she saw it and made it move around in the air toward Jason, and asked him if he was scared. He replied that he wasn't, but his face suggested he was. I don't think it was the wooden crocodile that was scaring him, though.

We took a different route home that allowed me to escape the surroundings of the city and traffic longer. We climbed up our mountain range right outside San Francisco. The kids were falling asleep, and I drove through the fog in welcome solitude. Granted, most of the way along the ridge the fog was so thick I could not see more than thirty feet. The little light that made it to the road reflected off the water such that it was the same color as the fog. The only guide I had was a dim set of yellow lines on my left... If it wasn't on my left, I knew I was in trouble...

We had a great time. I love these field trips. I think our next one is to NASA. I was sooooo ripped off in Missouri as a kid.


Zai Jian!

The Chickdominium is essentially finished! Which means it is time to move on to the next project. I actually have one more thing to do, but I ran out of daylight. The top of the nestboxes is flat, and one of the chickens thinks it is a good place to roost. Consequently, it is currently covered in poop. I've decided that we will fix that when we clean the coop next.

The Chickdominium has no equal… We may be moving in there…

Pleased, and ready to start cleaning the garden...

Every now and then I have to remind myself about the Important Things in Life. Yesterday, I had one of those moments. Annie had gone down to the house, and I was taking a break from digging through the redwood roots to make a trench so we could bury the chicken wire in the pen. I was standing by the truck wondering if my arms were going to ever work again. Of course, they did as evidenced by the beer I was holding. At any rate, I looked up into the trees and saw something I had been seeking for nine years.

The problem with redwoods and douglas firs is that the branches are generally small and do not reach very far from the tree. Granted, there are some firs like the one by the barn, which is ten feet across at the base, but it is not a good location for this critical item in any home: a swing. Not just a swing like the one hanging from Annie's play structure, but a swing that inspires thoughts of really flying. A swing that makes a kid dream of being an astronaut or a daredevil.

And there it was: the Perfect Branch. It was about forty feet off the ground, a foot in diameter where it met the trunk, and extended out about twenty feet. As I returned to digging trenches, I started forming a plan for how I was going to get a rope around it. When I decided to put my plan into action, it proved more difficult than I had anticipated, but doesn't everything... Try as I might, I could not get the weight I had chosen over the branch. I hit it a couple of times, but the drag from the twine just kept pulling it down a little too much. Annie figured out what I was doing, although I didn't want her to know in case I couldn't do it. I was about to give up when I saw the crushed look on her face. We drove to one of our hunting-type neighbors to see if he had a bow. He didn't. I was running out of options. I sent Annie next door to see if they had something, and she came back holding a small lead weight. I was doubtful, but it was small enough to cup in my hand and I could launch it easily. The second toss found its way over the branch... about two feet further down the branch than I wanted. This location did not look as safe to me, so I tried to pull the weight back over. It got stuck... It's still there... with a long length of twine hanging down... I am trusting the curiosity of squirrels to eventually break it free.

Annie went back to the neighbors, and returned with another weight. Sometimes being a pack-rat pays off. With renewed confidence, I launched the new weight into the air, and we watched it soar higher and higher. It cleared the branch and came down the other side in the perfect location. We hoisted the rope up, cut a board, and ten minutes later Annie was screaming with enjoyment as she swung out over the hillside.



By the way, that's the old chicken coop in the background. It is now a rat coop.

No, I didn't get as far as I wanted on the Chickdominium, but this turned out better anyway. I really, really want to get that blasted coop done, though.

Happy daddy because of a happy daughter...