I've had the itch to write recently, but haven't done so. As it turns out, I really appreciate feedback and comments, and no one does it. Well, no one but Meera. So, I figure I'll just write to her given that no one else finds the interest or ability to make a comment. You all are a bunch of lurkers, and should go somewhere else to practice your voyeurism. If you are too scared too put your words out there for others to read, then don't go looking for words from others to read...

Anyway, Meera, you really missed out today. This is one of the reasons we live here. My field trips as a kid (I think I have said this before) were fairly lame with only a couple of exceptions. Today, the entire third grade class from both elementary schools in the district went on a field trip. It freakin' rocked. We drove 10 miles from school, and boarded an old steam engine train to travel through the redwoods to Santa Cruz. The kids had a blast. They watched the redwoods pass as we ventured down the tracks, and when we got to Santa Cruz, they waved and yelled at those unfortunate commuters that were stopped by the tracks, most of which smiled and honked their horns at the passing kids. The weather was great. It was warm and sunny, although I confess that I was looking for ice floats in the water. That's right. I was in the water freezing my... stuff... off. You know what? I was the only parent out in the water that I saw. The kids were told that they could not go further than their knees in the water. Good grief. My kinship with the dolphin couldn't be a fluke (pun intended). So, I wandered out to stay with the kids that wanted a little more than knee coverage of the mighty Pacific. It would have been hypocritical of me to do otherwise, as I know I would have been the same way. I was arrogantly confident that I could grab a head of hair and bring it up to air fairly quickly. I never had to, but a couple of the kids that I was supervising were 'beached' for going out too far. The beacher never said anything to me, so I gave up and decided to go eat a sandwich and sit next to Annie after an hour of that.

I sat there and smiled more than I had in a long time. Watching these brilliant kids 'doing their thing' was wonderful. Despite my concerns about the world we live in, these kids will make it right. Ptolemy told me in the classroom that he purposely did not wear shorts because he did not want to go in the water. I saw in his eyes later that he at least wanted to get his feet wet, so I offered to roll up his jeans. Come on. No kid near the ocean can keep from getting wet. He refused at first even though I had just done that for a friend of his. He came back. "I changed my mind. Could you roll up my pants?" Sure. Ten minutes later he was one of the kids I was supervising fully submersed in the water. I managed to convince him to take his shirt off so I could wring it out and possibly have something warm to put on... followed by three other kids that thought that was a good idea. They were shivering so much I thought they were going to break their teeth. But you don't stop going in the water for something so trivial as cold water. It beckons. It seductively calls. Not to mention that running on the beach will warm the blood fairly quickly.

The cold sapped their strength and the train trip back was a little more subdued. I think the parents were also a little drained. One mother that I have known since Annie was in Kindergarten tried to use me as a leaning post. I told her that I would probably move during the tunnel and she would fall on the bench... She moved, knowing that I would never really do it. I am sure that Annie slept on her way to her mother's. My sweet pea had a good day. Believe it or not, we have another field trip on Monday. This one will also be great, but will require more exercise from them as we will be hiking through the coastal hills. Freakin' awesome. Maybe we will see some elephant seals!

These kids are amazing. I watch them interact. I see their problems. I see how they deal with them. Quite honestly, I don't worry so much about them. I think if they keep it up, they will fix what we screwed up. Kids: don't stop questioning. Don't stop thinking. Don't stop finding an answer that makes sense. "Because that's the way we have always done it" or "that's the way we do things" are horrible answers. Find your own answers, and realize that sometimes your parents are wrong... That includes me, Annie.

Feeling good, even after putting in a mortar bed after the field trip...

I took some vacation time and joined Annie's class for a field trip, again. We did this trip when she was in first grade, and I wasn't that keen on it. However, Annie thinks I should go on every field trip, and was sad when I said I didn't know if I could drive on this one. I caved. The Santa Cruz Museum of Natural History is just not that spectacular after Chicago's Field Museum and the Smithsonian. Still, I knew we wouldn't be in there that long, and we would eat lunch and play on the beach afterwards. That is something I never experienced as a kid, so I enjoy seeing Annie doing it. Come to think of it, we didn't do many field trips. Geez. I got ripped off.

Anyway, after the formal session with the docents, I positioned myself at the tide-pool touch tank to protect the poor creatures from abuse. The kids were actually really good, and only needed minimal reminders of how to treat the animals and plants in the tank. I, and most of the kids, got to see something really cool, though! Apparently, dead crabs (about three inches across) were put in the tank to feed the sea anemones. One of the kids had found the dead crab, and with the water being disturbed by their hands, and the flow of the water in the tank, this crab came close to a sea anemone. I didn't think anything about it when I saw the crab drift close enough to touch the tentacles. I watched in fascination as the anemone pulled it in and devoured it. I wouldn't have believed that that small anemone could consume that size of crab! It was amazing. After about one minute, there were just the ends of the legs sticking out. Yeah, I am easily impressed.

Afterwards, we went down to the beach to eat lunch. Having been on enough of these trips, I always bring a blanket, which can apparently hold a lot more beach loving kids than I would have expected. I also have a problem with complete chaos when it comes to play time. Before we left the classroom I grabbed a rubber ball. I taught a bunch of kids how to play a game I played when I was a kid: 500. After that, I took the ones that wanted to go on a hike down the beach to look and learn about what we saw. Unfortunately, the recent rains had swelled the river that dumped into the ocean on the other side of the cliff, so we couldn't walk through the cave to see the Boardwalk. We still had a good time, though.

On the way back to school we played the Alphabet Game. This is where we go around the car going through the alphabet and try to come up with a word that starts with that letter. Sometimes we narrow it down to categories, like it has to be an animal (x always kills us). We decided to leave it open, though, given that the other two in the truck had never played. Nevertheless, we ended up only doing animals anyway. The new girl in class was with us, and she is very sharp. We were the first ones back to the classroom, and she wanted to see how many presidents we could name while we were waiting. Unfortunately, this is not a skill I have, but I gave it a shot. Fortunately, the teacher arrived before my inadequacy could be completely discovered...

Annie and I came home, and I cleaned out my work e-mail, which was not a lot for once. So? I decided to write this! Now, back to work...

In anticipation of the Aquarium field trip...

Last week a good friend and co-worker came out to work review board files and schematics on a project we were troubleshooting. Annie knows him, and in his 'onery fashion almost got her in trouble playing with her during a meeting one time several years ago. Annie woke up and threw up that morning, so she didn't go to school. As she wrapped herself in her blanket and watched TV, she would ask when Uncle Joe was going to arrive. She also asked if she could play chess with Uncle Joe, and I said I thought that was a good possibility.

I made her a cup of hot chocolate, started a fire in the chimenea, and as the sun was setting, she and Uncle Joe were playing chess. Joe was enjoying it thoroughly, and sent me this picture today...

We had great fun. Joe was worried that Annie would be upset because she lost, but the next day she wanted to play again. That’s my girl. She typically gets angry if she thinks I am letting her win.

Game on...

Annie and I went up to check on the chickens, and were discussing the fact that the Araucanas had not started laying, yet. They have short combs so we didn't think they were roosters. We then noticed that some of the others had very large combs, but they were the breed that is doing most of the laying, so we knew they weren't roosters either. Annie suggested that they were all the same kind of chicken, although they look a lot like two other chickens, which are laying infrequently. In case you are wondering, we have three breeds, each of which has a different color of egg. No, we don't stand around watching them lay.

Fairly satisfied that the Araucanas were simply late bloomers, and not roosters, we turned to walk away. That is when my budding genius said, "besides, Daddy, if they were roosters, they would have that spike on the back of their feet."

Crowing

We had a fun morning. I decided I could spare an hour today, and I went to Annie's classroom to teach them how to play chess. Her teacher had requested this, and I thought I would have time this morning. As it turned out, they had a substitute this morning, but she looked at her list of tasks and decided that we could do this. Much to my pleasure, Annie was not the only one that had been introduced to the game. In fact, I was surprised by one boy in particular. I love kids at this age. Granted, they are starting to show the influence of parents more prominently (both good and bad), and it makes me realize that every one of them has significant potential. They just need some guidance. There is a boy in the class that has been a pain in the rump on field trips as well as when I visit the class. He doesn't do as he is asked, shows up for picture day with a mohawk, doesn't turn in his homework, and yet we seem to connect sometimes. He was unruly as usual today, but what amazed me was that he already knew the game. Given that half of the class had never seen the game, I was trying to limit the number or game rules that I was relaying. I was grinning broadly as the kids that knew the game informed me that I had forgotten to tell the students something, and I asked them to inform the class what I had missed. This boy did it several times. I had asked them to find the queen in their pieces, and as I walked around to check (no pun intended) that they had found the queen, he said to me, "the queen goes on her own color." I hadn't arrived at that point, yet, and asked him to tell the class. He did so very proudly.

We got a lot farther than I had anticipated, covering all the movements of the pieces, how captures are made, and how to win the game. I had no expectation of getting all that done today. I can't wait to go in again and actually have them play the game with each other.

I decided to wrap some drywall mudding tips into this post because I am too lazy to write a separate one... So, here are my tips:

o Do not overfill the tray. It will start to dry and the clumps will streak.
o Keep the sides of the tray clean. Thin layers will dry quickly and create clumps in the mud.
o Check your drywall knives for burrs that will also create streaks.
o Less is more. Do not get carried away with the application or you will be sanding forever.
o When you are done for the day, clean the inner sides of the bucket with water, smooth the surface, and add a half inch of water to keep the surface from drying.
o Clean the tray and knives every time you are ready to reload the tray.
o Always remember that every mistake can be fixed with mud and tape.
o Do not sand exposed tape or the drywall paper. It is a pain to fix the roughed surface, and will take longer.
o Pick one wall, mud and tape it. Go ahead and go through all the layers necessary. After you have cussed and fretted over it for several days, call a professional.

Returning to my hell...

This morning I donned my wizard's hat and Annie I set off to school with a bag full of various objects to discuss gravity with her class. Granted, about a third of the class had seen this before in kindergarten and first grade, but they still started off saying that the heavier objects would fall faster. We had a blast while we were all dropping things and watching to see what happened. My bag of goodies included a wide range of objects from the house, and Annie was practically glowing that I was there in her class.

The kids would hypothesize regarding what would happen each time I had a set of students up to drop items. We talked initially about Galileo and what he did at the Leaning Tower of Pisa. I even had one kid that had been there! We finally agreed that everything fell at the same rate, and then I brought out the feather. They were already thinking of air resistance, and knew what was going to happen, although one girl said that she knew what would happen because she remembered when we did this in kindergarten and first grade. After that we started talking, and five minutes into that I started to lose some of them. Dropping stuff was cool, but discussing it was boring. It was ok, I still had most of them and we talked about the planets, the tides, the atmosphere, the moon and where it came from, and kept reinforcing the fact that all things fall at the same rate.

I even threw some equations on the board, some of which were way over their head. I know most people would tell me that was stupid, but I am still hoping I am not unique, and that there is some student who will look at this and say, "I don't get it, but I want to."

Next, at the teacher's request, I am going to teach them chess. Those who have played chess with me will think this is a travesty, but I know the rules and movements of chess, so I think I am qualified to teach them the game well enough that they can get started...

Never let them stop asking 'why,' and never answer with 'because that's the way it is.' - David Hockanson

Halloween was a strange event this year. We seemed to have more challenges than I was expecting for Annie's eighth Halloween. Our first challenge happened the night before, and we dealt with it fine, but I should have suspected that Murphy was gong to have his way with us.

I had gone looking for black lipstick given that we hadn't found the one we had last year. I found a special Halloween kind that also came with black fingernail polish. Perfect. That night we went to work on the tasks that needed to be done. We started with the fingernails. She wanted alternating red and black nails. The red came out beautifully. However the black just sat there in a gelatinous state, refusing to harden. After what seemed like forever for an eight-year old to sit with her fingers still, she washed her hands and half of the black came off. No problem, she said, we'll just paint them all red. Some of the black had remained, and the red on top was a fairly dark red. She said she liked, it though, because it looked like blood. Great. Dodged the bullet of an upset little girl who usually wants everything to perfectly coincide with the image in her head. Actually, she had already dealt with this a couple of weeks before... She picked out a costume at K-Mart, and was very excited. When we came home and she tried it on, it did not look like the picture on the package. It was supposed to have long sleeves, and it had, well, no sleeves. Undaunted, she went to her closet, pulled out last year's costume, and cut the sleeves off of it. She seemed happy, and claimed that that would work. She opted not to wear the sleeves to school, but wore them to trick-or-treat. Whatever made her happy was fine with me.

Back to the night before Halloween: she ate one course of her dinner while I got set up to color her hair. Costumes are not chosen based on the coordination with her having a different hair color. She refuses to have a costume that has any sort of head gear, no matter how small, but the hair must be dyed. We proceeded to color her hair, which went rather well. I put it in with a paint brush, and she sat in a chair watching TV while it set. She finished her dinner there, as well. Of course, temporary hair color (did you think I was crazy enough to let her do a permanent change?) does not set as well, and after rinsing, there was some black, but mostly blue and purple. Once again, she seemed ok with it. She went to bed with a towel over her pillow to keep the stains at a minimum, and we were up bright and early the next morning to finish...

After breakfast, she donned her costume, and brushed her hair... for fifteen minutes. She decided at the last minute not to go with a pony tail or any other dressing, but rather to let it go straight. It was then that she decided she didn't need the sleeves as well. I reminded her that it was generally more than ten degrees colder at school than at home, but of course, that didn't matter. Now it was time to do her face. She had assembled all the necessary tools on the table, and I grabbed the black facial pen to do her eyebrows. It had become hard over the past year in the medicine cabinet, and she was starting to get worried that things were not going to work like she wanted. I ran it under hot water for a while, and it got soft enough to do her eyebrows. She ran to the mirror, and returned to report that it was acceptable. Next came the black lipstick. I have a feeling that this crap had also been sitting in storage for a year. It had become like a crayon. It would not color, and actually broke while I was trying. The hot water trick did not work, and we spent fifteen minutes scouring the house again for the missing lipstick from last year. Finally, Annie said it didn't matter, and she was fine without it. She seemed happy, so we went off to school, where she froze until the classroom was opened.

I picked her up from school after a very busy and exciting day. She vegged for a while and I worked. Finally, we were ready to go trick-or-treating downtown, where we were meeting some of her friends. We fixed her sleeves (required for an evening downtown) so they fit well, checked her for any fixing that was necessary, and we were off. She looked awfully tired, but she said she was ready. We got there a little early so we could park, and waited on the street for her friends. Tons of people were already there, and she saw them; not her friends, but adults dressed in very scary costumes. She moved as close to me as she could given that we are not physically able to occupy the same space, and used me as a shield placed between her and scary people. We talked about them just being people in costumes, but despite her agreement, she was terrified. Her friends arrived, and we began our adventure.

After several stores, we came to one that had people with scary costumes giving out candy. “I am not stopping here.” I tried to encourage her, as her friends walked up, but to no avail. We missed a lot of stores as a result, and she hung out with her friends very little, needing me to be her barrier against the scary people. She spent most of her time scanning the sidewalk and stores to ensure she knew where the scary people were. When we went by the hardware store, she refused to go inside. They weren’t scary, and are incredible people, but somewhere in the recesses of her mind, I think she remembered that two years ago, this store was very, very scary (they had gone all out, including a Haunted House in the basement). So, she avoided that store as well, justifying it with a phrase that I had never heard uttered by a child: “I have enough candy, anyway.”

Well, we made it to the end, where her friends were going to go off to the Rec Center to see what games or whatever were going on. Given that Annie still looked like she was trying to physically merge into my body, I decided it was time for us to go. She wanted to know what her friends were going to do, but I told her it was time for us to go. She really didn’t need much convincing, and almost fell asleep on the ten minute drive home. She said she had fun, but it wasn’t the best Halloween ever. I think next year we are going to go back to Scotts Valley, where the darker street limits the ability to see the scary costumes. Strangely, that worked well last year (which might have been the best Halloween ever in her mind).

It boggles my mind what she grabs as frightening, and it seems to evolve. People in costumes have almost become more scary to her, rather than less. Not knowing where I am every second can send her into a panic. Even when I tell her, if she isn’t paying complete attention, she will mumble acceptance, and then freak out later. She seems to think that someone will try to get her. This is a new fear, and I can not tell where it comes from. I have suspicions, but no real answer. I guess it is just one of those challenges we have to work on together.

Spooked

We have now completed two days of Third Grade. We rock. Well, Annie rocks. So far, so good. The teacher seems really good, and Annie likes the fact that they can whisper to each other while they are working on assignments. Also, there are points programs that can earn them trips to ice cream and pizza with the teacher if they behave and do well.



She looks way too old. You know, I look at this picture and see that she looks less and less like me with every year. That's a good thing...

It will take us some more time to make the information flow from school to Daddy. We have always had this problem at the beginning of the school year, but she seems happy. She has some good kids in the class, and some not so good kids. It's a small school. I unfortunately know most of them by now. The 'bad' ones are boys, and Annie doesn't feel comfortable around boys, so hopefully she will not be negatively influenced by them. No, Meera, I don't consider Julian one of the bad ones. By the way, he was very disappointed that he is once again in class with Annie. What is this? Five years in a row if we count pre-school?

Anyway, my angel is adjusting to the change in routine, and dealing very well...


Proud Daddy...

Annie and I have just come back from an enjoyable trip to the mall. Really. I am not being facetious. We started out (shudder) at the Limited Too. Annie's build is such that she has a great deal of difficulty fitting into inexpensive jeans. So, I have given up on that. It's worth a little extra money not to have us argue in the morning regarding her pants if she will wear them happily. These freakin' jeans cost more than mine. They have an added benefit, though, even beyond the fact that she seems to really like them: she can't hike them up to her navel. Now if I could get shirts that she can't pull down to her knees.

We went to a department store for shirts, which I hoped would be less expensive. Everything they had was crap. On top of that, there were piles of clothes just thrown on tables, and I was not about to spend hours picking through 300 articles of clothing for something that she liked and would fit her. After twenty minutes, we gave up, and went back to (shudder) Limited Too. We didn't get as many items as we normally might have, but she seems to like it all. We have talked and talked about the fact that I will no longer tolerate the store fascination with an article of clothing, only to have it go into a drawer and stay there because she suddenly decided it showed her belly button when she raised her hand in class, or that the tag started to itch, or that she thought people could see her underwear. All valid concerns, I'm sure, but that decision needs to be made before Daddy spends money. All told, we left two bags of clothes heavier, and Daddy's wallet was $300 lighter. Sometimes I wish Annie were one of those girls that never wanted to get dirty. Not very often, though.

Almost nine and a half years ago, I flew to Missouri to do discuss some research with UMR. I had just begun divorce proceedings, and at a layover in Denver, I did something I had never done. (Really, this ties in somewhat.) I bought really good sunglasses (translation: overpriced). No more Wal-Mart or gas station sunglasses for me. They really were very good sunglasses, and I have had them all this time. I never lost them, damaged them once and had them repaired, banged up the case a bit, but generally they have stayed in good shape... until recently. I perch them on top of my head in between uses, and sometimes I look down or up too far, and they fall off. Apparently, the last time this happened, one of the lenses chipped. It probably took me a week to notice, even though it was a large area. I thought they were dirty. In fact I noticed it because I was annoyed by this smudge, which interestingly enough did not go away when I cleaned them. Finally, I really looked at them, and noticed that a rather large chip of glass had decided to move to another residence. So, when Annie and I left Limited Too, we stopped in to a sunglasses store, and I bought another pair of good (overpriced) sunglasses. The attractive and very nice lady at the store (works on commission I figure) thought they looked good on me. Annie thought everything looked good on me, but liked these, too. Of course, when we got back to the truck she told me I looked better in my old ones...

On the way home I told Annie she had better be on really good behavior after this. She giggled, and told me again that she really liked her clothes. I said I was glad, and that I thought the jeans looked really good on her. In fact, I told her, they look almost too good. They make you look too old. Hey! They don't make me look old! No, I replied, I mean they make you look like your twelve. Oh, I thought you meant they make me look 'old.' You mean like me? No, you aren't old. Nicely done, Annie, you are learning! We both laughed hard at that for some reason...

Rhinestone shades or cheap sunglasses...

I just got booted out of the house by four little girls. I believe the word was, "shoo!" It was supposed to be six little girls, but I got last minute cancellations. Well, they weren't last minute, but they were a couple of hours before we were anticipating arrivals. Annie was very upset, but she seems to be fine now. The girls are getting along famously, and are using their negotiation skills fairly effectively. Well, one of them is fairly accommodating, the others are pretty much "I want." Once they were all here, we went on a hike to the top of the ridge. There was quite a bit of complaining on the way up, but they seemed happy when they were at the top. Granted, third graders can't really appreciate the beauty of the view, but they still had a good time.

Upon returning, they went for the trampoline. That is when I turned the hose on them. It was their request, though. They were soaked. They bounced for fifteen more minutes and were ready to come in. They changed clothes and dried off, brushed hair, and then came the decision of where to sleep. This took a half hour to work out who wanted to sleep next to whom. I intervened at the last to make sure that everyone was truly happy with the arrangement. At this age, it is really important to sleep next to or face who you want.

The next decision also took a half hour... or more. What movie to watch while they ate pizza. When I tried to intervene that time, I got told, "Daddy, we are working on it!" Hunger started to win out. I think a couple of the girls gave in to just wanting to move on. "When will the pizza be ready?" It had been ready for fifteen minutes. They settled down to pizza and the Disney version of Hercules amidst full-mouthed laughter. That was when I was told to leave.

I am washing the wet clothes, and have just been told I am allowed back in for the next thing: birthday cake and presents, so I'd better go...

Update: We didn't have cake because the pizza was still settling. We blew out the candles, and I put it back in the freezer (ice cream cake). Strangely, they weren't too full to play Bobbing for Strawberries. Yeah, I know. It is supposed to be apples. I didn't think they were big enough to grab apples, so I went with strawberries. They had a blast, and went through two quarts of them... They were all successful, and had a blast. I was supposed to chop up some bananas to continue the fun, but they migrated to the trampoline.... I figure ice cream cake will be the last thing when I say it is almost bed time. Anything to postpone bedtime...

Back to it...


I never thought "yes, dear" would apply to my daughter...