I'm so pleased that Annie is choosing close friends that are smart. We just got a phone call from Colleen. She has memorized our phone number. I confess, even though we work on it, Annie doesn't know our phone number. While I was waiting for Annie to come to the phone, I heard Colleen's sisters ask her what she was doing, and of course, she told them... including the phone number.

And no, she 's not getting a cell phone...

Feeling old

Annie has discovered numbers beyond 100. She is still working on the patterns of the numbers, and what makes something x hundred whatever. This is further complicated by the microwave, which she enters numbers on when we are cooking/defrosting. Of course, those numbers are in minutes and seconds, even though there is no obvious distinction on the oven. Blast it...

At any rate, for the past couple of weeks, she likes to see what page I'm on in whatever book happens to end up on the nightstand. She intitially would say "two-hundred and twenty-three". This is a common thing for folks to say. Heck, I mess up and do it too, sometimes. But, what better time to break a bad habit. So, I told her "Actually, it's two-hundred twenty-three... no and. When an and shows up in a number it means something else, and we'll cover that later." She accepted this, and has been doing well with it.

She really seems to have an aptitude for math, which makes her engineer-father very happy. She was making complex color-patterns with her fruit snacks before she was four. So, naturally she has some confidence in this area. I shouldn't have been surprised this morning when her teacher approached me with a smile and informed me "thanks, I've been regularly getting in trouble lately". A plethora of fears ran through my mind about what my usually angelic, but some sometimes devilish child may have done. She then explained that Annie is quick to correct her when she uses and in numbers. I was back to being proud. The teacher seemed very pleased with Annie's insistence on the matter, and prophesied that Annie would have her trained by the end of the year. With a quizzical expression she wondered why her fourth-graders hadn't caught and trained her on this...

Expanding polynomials of pride

After that slightly dark post, I decided to shake it off with something more positive.

If you haven't seen the movie Signs with Mel Gibson, I recommend it. Despite the strange back story of alien invasion, and yes, I think it is the back story, there is a wonderful message in there. Despite the challenges that come to us in life, there may be a reason behind it all. That's the story line as I see it.

On my honeymoon, I decided to do something I had said I would never, never do (lesson: never say never). Sitting in the hotel bar, overlooking the beautiful lagoon of Bora Bora, I said "if I were to ever get a tattoo, it would be somewhere like this. Somewhere where it would have special meaning for me." Next thing you know, I'm on a table in a little shack on the side of the road. This guy is drawing on my leg with the same dedication as Picasso. My leg was contorted during the actual needling, and I thought I'd pass out from the lack of circulation for an hour. I persevered and marveled at the single-mindedness of this artist as he continued his work. Someone was mowing their lawn across the road, and a rock flew out of the mower. I heard the rock get ejected, and when the projectile hit the little shack, it sounded like a gunshot. The guy didn't even flinch (thank goodness). The design is a Great Blue Heron styled as a traditional Tahitian tattoo. I consider the heron to be sort of my personal totem (or in Tahitian - te mana as I recall).

As much as I liked my new traveling art piece, it belatedly occurred to me that it may not have been the wisest thing to do when less than nine months later my wife drove off in our only fully functional vehicle. Where had my brain been? And no, I wasn't hammered when I decided to do this.

The answer came when Annie was about three years old. We were visiting my folks who live on a lake. It was summer, and we were swimming. Annie was having a blast jumping off the dock and swimming like a dolphin. Ok, like a dolphin with floaties on its arms. Grandpa was fishing from the boat, and looking forward to encouraging Annie to catch her first fish. My nephew, who likes to spend most of his time under the water surface, brushed against Annie's leg.

She freaked as the realization sunk in that the fishing adventure that was waiting for her was directly linked to the same body of water she was currently splashing in. There were fish in this water. The lake is fairly large (by California standards). The fish are most likely proportionately large... and have teeth... She knew. She had been to the aquarium, and had seen them. The water was murky. Who knew what prehistoric beasts were hiding in the depths.... waiting for an unsuspecting little girl to brush against them.

For the next three days, I couldn't get her in the water.

Our time was growing short for that visit, and I wanted her to have fond memories of swimming at Grandma and Grandpa's. We decided to try another venue. We went to a very shallow beach area, and Grandpa told her there weren't any fish there. She didn't buy it, even though I managed to keep her from seeing the floating fish that had lost a game of chicken with a boat.

During our time there, I pointed out the Great Blue Herons all over the lake. Somewhere along the way, I told her that they were fishing. On this last day on the water she sat on the boat, watching the water and the herons. In a moment of inspiration, I told her that the fish were afraid of me, because on my leg was a heron. Fish wouldn't come around (as evidenced by my lack of success at actually fishing). This logic seemed to appeal to her, and she spent the next couple of hours spashing and playing in the water. Success.

Finally, the purpose and connection to one of my less-than-brilliant decisions came together. There might just be a purpose for all things.

Feelin' good about life, again.

I like to use the time given to me to the best advantage, and hope Annie learns to do the same. One thing that my ex's family likes to kid me about is the requirement for reading material when I use the restroom (why do my posts involve the toilet so much?). In a pinch I can read the ingredients on bottles and toothpaste. However, when time allows I grab a book on my trek to the bathroom. Imagine my pride at witnessing the following (of course, she wasn't quite two at the time):

Flushingly Literate

Annie and I just finished several rousing hands of Old Maid. Thank goodness it's not called Old Single Engineer...

The first game was a tie. By a twist of fate, the Old Maid card was stuck in the box, and we finished the game before we discovered it. That was ok with her, because it meant she didn't lose. Choosing to look at the glass as half full, we both won.

She won the second game, since when she has the Old Maid she leaves it sticking out by itself, and I went ahead and grabbed it.

The third game, though, I didn't do it, and, well, she lost. It was supposed to be our last game.

Annie: No, no, no. We have to play one more game.
Daddy: Honey, we tied the first one, and each won one. We have to get back to our chores.
Annie: No, we are playing under new rules. If one of us loses, we play one more.
Daddy: You mean that the last game we play must be won by you.
Annie: No. That wouldn't be fair. If one of us loses we have to play again.
Daddy: Well, since we put the Old Maid in the deck, one of us is going to lose, and we'd be playing all day.
Annie: No. Listen to me. (Pause - thinks about the logic and the ultimate goal of winning the last game.) We have to play one more.
Daddy: Ok, one more.

Yeah, well how do I say no to that face...

Of course, in an effort to end the gaming session on a good note, I grabbed that strange card that stuck out a wierd angle by itself. She giggled at how gullible I must be. We both finished happy…

Old Single Engineer

I have various friends that don't understand why I would possibly live where I do. I live in the middle of nowhere. But you know what? I grew up in the middle of nowhere, and wouldn't trade it for anything. I used to go out and trek over 30+ acres without my folks being concerned about me. My mom would look out the kitchen window and see me venturing out on whatever adventure I had concoted in my mind, and knew that I was ok.

I had a friend who was concerned about my disregard for Annie's safety as she checked on the chickens. What if the coyotes got her? Sorry, but good Lord. Have you met Annie? If a coyote encountered her and tried to impose its will, it would leave with a complete brainwashing about the ways of nature. That's the coyote you would accidentally find in nature with a stick in its mouth tilling the soil trying to create a whole new food program for coyotes across the state. (Hopefully, it would contradict the Santa Cruz county agricultural standard, and stay away from pot as its plant of choice).

At any rate, I struggle to financially hold on to this place for one reason. It's the closest I can come to raising Annie in a way that I can deal with, and make work. If your internet connection can handle it, I invite you to see the evidence that what I've done and try to do is right (about 14MB): Annie and her cousin scaling the hillside. Good stuff if you have the patience and/or connection.

Doing what I can....

Winter in California is nothing like winter in Missouri, but it still has a bite. It's a combination of cold and wet and dark that is every bit of the the damage that can be done in Missouri. Mark Twain said the coldest winter of his life was his summer in San Francisco. As a consequency, I find myself thinking back on the wonderful times on the rivers and lakes of the Ozarks. Annie has had little experience of this, but knows the wonders of summer. In an effort to share this feeling with the viewers of this blog, I remind you of the joys of summer with this MPG - the joy is in the word and act of cannonball....


Tired of the cold and wet...

Just a quick note: Annie has returned from the sleep over at Colleen's. I think it was a great success, but there is no place like home...
Glad to have her home.

Today is a big day for us. Annie is going to her first sleep over with a non-family member. She is very excited. For the past week she has been ready to get up at 6:30 am, and the first think she says is "Four more days until I go to Colleen's", "Three more days until I go to Colleen's"... ok, you get the idea. This morning at the crack of dawn it was "how many minutes until I go to Colleen's?" Suddenly, a few hours has become an eternity. She has busied herself packing for now, and is currently concerned with the necessities: "Daddy, how many horses can I take?"

To prepare for this big event, we have had a couple of play dates. Annie went to Colleen's after daycare one Friday, and the following Monday there was no school. So, we invited Colleen to spend the day here. They were so good together that I was able to work, with breaks along the way to interact with them. I was so worried that after a few hours they would be at each other's throats, but they never had an argument. I couldn't believe it.

The day started out getting Colleen familar with our home. Annie showed her all the necessary places. "Here's are TV, here's where the cats eat, here's the bathroom, here's my playroom, here's my bedroom." The last two rooms are such a mess, I was afraid they might get lost in there and never return. "Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Winser - the girls went into the playroom and don't appear to have found their way back out. Probably got lost between the Barbie house and the 5,342 My Little Ponies. Maybe somewhere in the vicinity of the easle. An investigation is underway by CSI: Boulder Creek."

After settling in, thoughts of course turned to food. The girls went to the fruit garden and began pulling tangerines. They were kind enough to pick a bag for Colleen to take home, too. So, the first snack of the day was crackers... no, it really was tangerines. After a Blue's Clues it was time for me to get them doing something constructive. Annie got a window planter gizmo for Christmas designed so she could watch the plants grow. They decided to put it together. Being mountain girls, they enjoyed playing with the wet dirt that had to be made and put in the planter. They took turns stirring, putting the dirt in, and planting the seeds. If only adults could consistently be so cooperative... Left over seeds were planted in the vegetable garden with meticulous care.

After lunch, it was time to check on the chickens. They collected eggs with no casualties, and pet the chickens. The eggs were turned over to me so that they could go explore the barn. Unfortunately, they must have gone back into the coop when I wasn't looking. A week later I discovered that the gate was open, and the chickens had been having a blast scratching around the grass. Good thing the coyotes didn't find out. And yes, I am puzzled how I could be so oblivious to chickens running around for a week.

After the barn, my camera trigger finger ran out of steam, and I failed to capture the rest of the day. But, the day was full. They played dress up, rode bikes, played horses, read a few books, and finally I got them to settle at the table and do homework together. Colleen had finished hers, but was willing to do it again, so I made copies of Annie's. Colleen's mom and sisters arrived in the evening to two calm and dedicated five-year olds, busy with homework while classical music filled the air. She must have thought I drugged them.

It was a great day. To top it off I was still productive with work.

Maybe I could handle having two kids?

Annie is on the phone right now with her friend Colleen. I really like Colleen. I think this might be the first friendship that Annie truly maintains for a long, long time.

I wish I could blog what they are talking about, but it is so inane, I just can't get it. You see, they are very excited about having a sleep over this Friday. They talk about the things they are going to do, but the changes in train-of-thought are more than I can do. I should tell you that I'm often reprimanded for changing the topic of conversation on a whim. They've got me beat. I've heard them go from the movies they will watch Friday night to the sounds their bodies make given certain disturbances.

Ooops. I just heard the phone hang up. Better check in...

Handling it... barely