While working on the bathroom today I have reflected on a great number of things. I won't go into them here as I don't think I am mentally able, but will reflect on those thoughts a bit. I think 2008 will be a year where I close some doors on my past. No new doors or opening, but the room I am left in is comfortable. I have made a lot of bad choices in my life. I'd like to think I made as many good ones. Even some of my bad choices have yielded gifts that I would not have expected. The cost has been difficult to accept, but I think that is what life is about. I have always had a need to control things in my life. Annie does, too, but her reason for arriving at that mentality are different than mine. In fact, I haven't quite figured out when it happened to me. I have read enough Dale Carnegie, and believe it, that I 90% of the time try to rationalize why someone would do something with which I disagree. However, I have noticed that most people do not feel the need to take that approach with me. I don't long for control anymore, I just want to influence in a positive manner. I make few decisions that require action without serious consideration. Many people disagree with me on my parenting approach. I am sure I am making mistakes, but I think I am doing the right thing. I do not think there is such thing as a perfect parent, and I confess that I think it is a little more difficult when doing it alone. However, should I see that my decisions have a negative outcome, I am perfectly willing to admit that I was wrong, and work to better the situation. Frankly, this has not happened, yet. Is it because I am blind or have I been doing the right thing? I don't know. Lord knows I have been blind to situations in front of me quite a number of times.

I balance precariously on my three-legged stool: family, work, & home. It has been six years since I stood smiling on top of that stool not knowing or wanting to believe that most of the legs had fractures in them, and one of them was snapping off completely. A friend of mine said something yesterday that struck me. I may have misinterpreted what he was really saying, given that it struck a cord with me. I had thought it for quite some time. My reaction and response to the difficulties in my life have resulted in a very different person than I used to be. He didn't say it, but I can't help but think that I liked me much better back then. Some time during graduate school I said that I realized that I was not going to do anything earth shattering. I had always believed that when I was younger. But it was then that I thought that my offspring would. I don't know if she will be able to do that. She deals with a lot more than she should have to. Maybe all kids do, and I don't see it. She struggles with things that she shouldn't even have to think about. She doesn't have any problems with school work, has the typical problems associated with elementary kids regarding friends, is comfortable in her home, loves her animals and all animals that we come across, laughs when she farts, she's healthy, but she spends an inordinate amount of time fretting about her family situation. Is it real? Is she somehow trying to protect me? Is she afraid of hurting my feelings somehow? I don't know. I reassure her as much as I can, but she still struggles. She is ruled by fear...

Oh well, I will continue the fight because there is nothing else I can do. I leave you with the words of one of my favorite songs over the course of my life. It does not all apply to me, but a lot of it rings true:

Good Ole Boys Like Me - Don Williams

When I was a kid Uncle Remus he put me to bed
With a picture of Stonewall Jackson above my head
Then daddy came in to kiss his little man
With gin on his breath and a Bible in his hand
He talked about honor and things I should know
Then he'd stagger a little as he went out the door

CHORUS:
I can still hear the soft Southern winds in the live oak trees
And those Williams boys they still mean a lot to me
Hank and Tennessee
I guess we're all gonna be what we're gonna be
So what do you do with good ole boys like me

CHORUS:

Nothing makes a sound in the night like the wind does
But you ain't afraid if you're washed in the blood like I was
The smell of cape jasmine thru the window screen
John R. and the Wolfman kept me company
By the light of the radio by my bed
With Thomas Wolfe whispering in my head

CHORUS:

When I was in school I ran with kid down the street
But I watched him burn himself up on bourbon and speed
But I was smarter than most and I could choose
Learned to talk like the man on the six o'clock news
When I was eighteen, Lord, I hit the road
But it really doesn't matter how far I go

CHORUS:

Muddy

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...

My brain woke up before my body wanted to, so I am a little groggy, but somehow that seems to make things more peaceful. The new year has roared in with a vengeance, and I wonder if that portends to the way 2008 will go, or if it is just getting out of the way. The rains and wind that left us without power for a day (and others for five days) has subsided for a while, leaving me with a beautiful sunrise heralding in what looks to be a sun-filled day.

The stillness in the redwoods on mornings like this always seem to alleviate my concerns over my small problems. It is sort of like the seeing the smiles of the respected elderly over the concerns of the young. They have already seen so much, and the smiles enigmatically convey a sense of understanding and the knowledge of what is to come. Of course, I've never been able to figure out if that knowledge was meant to say, 'it will all work out,' or 'don't worry, it will get a lot worse.' That said, I really don't have anything to complain about! In hopes that the Muses will once again rest in my company and I will start writing more often, I figure I can give a quick catch up...

Work continues pretty much as before. I have just suffered celebrated my tenth year at Sun. It is hard to believe that what was intended to be a five year stint has resulted in a decade. Like the trees I adore, I feel like I was a seed that fell to the ground thinking it would rest for a while, only to wake up later to find I had established roots and would not be leaving any time soon. I had to work over what is supposed to be an annual holiday break, but that is not unusual. I believe I have worked over the break over half of the years I have been with Sun. I guess it is what I get paid for, so I should not complain. That is what management says, so it must be true... I have a new director, and it will be interesting to see how that affects my job and my group.

Our home also continues to go as before. It likes to remind me of the fragility of construction at times. We had been without a dishwasher for over a year. Well, that's not quite true. We had been without an automatic dishwasher for over a year. Given how few dishes Annie and I go through in a day, it had become normal for the sink to slowly fill up until I had to do something about it. I hated seeing the sink like that, so I decided to see if I could fix it. I tinkered with it for a while, but couldn't see anything wrong with the motor assembly (what little I could access). I finally decided to do something I had thought about before: buy the ultimate dishwasher I wanted for the "new" kitchen, install it, then later I will carefully remove it and re-install it afterwards. It was when I got the old dishwasher completely out that I discovered the reason it didn't work. The rats had eaten through the power cord. Unfortunately, I noticed that no charred rat was left. The little bastard survived. I covered the holes in the wall with steel in hopes that I can delay their next intrusion for a couple of years. The new dishwasher is absolutely incredible. It does a good cleaning job, and is so quiet it is difficult to tell that it is on. I will fix the old one and see if I can find it a good home. The garbage disposer died a week ago, and I am grudgingly considering replacing it as well.

The bathroom continues slowly as well. I just finished painting the closet, and I think it is acceptable... for a closet. Drywall texturing is another job that I will never have. My lofty goals for the day include moving the heating register in the floor so it will not be in the shower area. I probably won't get more than that (if that) done today given my other self-appointed tasks.

Annie had a good holiday break, and went back on school schedule fairly easily. She got a lot of clothes for Christmas, and I was very concerned about whether she would wear them or not, but she seems to like everything she got. I think it is ok to throw out the receipts now... Her mother is very upset that the Halloween hair coloring has not washed out, yet. It doesn't bother Annie or me, but I understand that she doesn't want Annie to have punk hair in the upcoming wedding pictures. I have found someone in Boulder Creek who seems to have considerable expertise in these matters, so we will try to work on that this week.

Annie has become increasingly insecure, needing to be around me constantly. I can't be sure, but I suspect it has something to do with the upcoming marriage of her mother. Her ventings to me about her new stepfather have become fairly infrequent. However, I hear from other people that she is quite vocal about it. I try to help her as best I can, but ultimately just have to hope that she comes to grips with it herself.

I guess that is about it. The sun has cleared the mountains, and I guess it is time to get to work.

Conflicted peace.

I have had a lot on my mind, and frankly just have not felt like writing about it. However, I just finished something that has been nagging on my mind for a while. It may not look like much, but it is one of the more involved plumbing constructions I have done.

The shower and the hand wand piping was nothing, but getting over to the body sprays was tricky. I was worried about the pressure drop along the way, and still have concerns that it will not be sufficient to have the shower and the sprays on at the same time. I thought I would finish it last night, but I had one joint in the pressure balancing configuration for the body sprays that did not go together right. It was the last joint I had to do, of course, and everything was too tight to make it work. I had to rip it apart this morning to get it all to fit correctly. There are fifty solder joints in all that had to be made after I had the valve rough in completed. None of them leak. Not too bad, actually, for an electrical engineer!

By the way, none of those scorch marks are mine. They were there from old plumbing. Now that I think about it, that one on the left for the shower wand might have been me. I can’t remember for sure. Also, I ended the soldering with just over two inches of solder wire left.

My only concern now is that I may have misjudged the thickness of the wall when it is all done. I remember the shower wand fitting really tightly in the hall bathroom, and I didn’t want to come up short. I guess we will see in another freakin’ year when the whole thing is done…

Plumber's butt tools have been put away...

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

Yeah, I know the time, but I am up. One of my oldest friends just called me. Oldest is not the right term, but we don't seem to have a good description for this kind of thing in the English language. Essentially, he has been my friend longer than virtually anyone else; he and his wife. Before I rant, a Brad Paisley song seems to be on topic:

If Love were a Plane - Brad Paisley

She’s 98 lbs. workin down at the Dairy Queen
with an Ogilvie home perm and braces.
And he’s long haired, no job and just 19
they’ve got a baby on the way and
they’re off to the races

in love, look at em go
now what in the world
could go wrong?
don’t tell them the odds
its best they don’t know.
If love was a plane, nobody’d get on.

at the ivy at lunchtime in Beverly Hills
the popparazi are gathered outside
cuz an actor and an actress are havin lunch
and according to Extra and Entertainment Tonight

they’re in love look at em go
now what in the world could go wrong?

don’t tell them the odds,
its best they don’t know,
if love was a plane nobody’d get on

imagine now the pilot's voice on the intercom
right before we leave the ground
saying folks thanks for flying with us
but theres a six in ten chance we’re goin down
but that’s the strangest thing about this emotion,
even knowng our chances are small,
we line up at the gate with our tickets
thiknkig somehow were different

I mean after all
we're in love look at us go
now what in the world could go wrong?
to hell with the odds we'd rather not know
if love was a plane, nobody'd get on
ya, if love was a plane nobody'd get on

I can't go into it deeply, but my friend's wife has shown evidence of infidelity. He is a wonderful, dedicated, and hard working person, and now has no idea how his life is going to progress. What the crap is wrong with people that they can not deal with their issues without screwing other people over?

Pissed.

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...

Yeah, I am not kidding myself. I am going to hell. God and I haven't spoken in five years. I have tried several times, but it is a lot like calling my friends when I really need to talk. I get an answering machine, a busy signal, or "due to high call volume, we can not complete your call." I am sure that if he is really there he has better things to do than deal with me.

Unfortunately, Lucifer has a better support network. Why not? Come on, they love their jobs. I have discovered what hell will be like for me: drywall mud. I will spend an eternity mudding corners and seams. The room will be an infinitely long hall that bends and twists with no corners being at right angles. Every time that I work a seam or corner, I'll go back and check it, sand it, and get ready to do the next coat. At that point, the demons assigned to me will magically put lumps in the mud, and bumps in the walls. They will have tools that spread drywall dust around to interfere with the smooth layering of the mud, and add dust to the bucket to ensure that it is lumpy as well. I will add coat after coat, sand it, smooth it, rough up the freakin' paper, try again, and ultimately wish I could start over.

Dante obviously never tried drywall work, or he would have added a level to his description of hell.

In preparation for my eternity, I will continue to do the mud in the bathroom/closet, and given our terrestrial living environment, I'll get to a point of acceptance. Hell will be another setup.

Bring it on.

I am getting older. The two-leggeds don't know how old I am, but that's expected given their limited mental capacity. I have brought my world domination desires to a point where I need to think about Number One.

Winter is coming, and the days are getting shorter and colder.  I do consulting work for the other animals that are currently working for domination, but I spend my time looking for a warm place to lie, getting my food, and crapping when I need to. I have created a stink in the study for which I am very proud. Those plugins have met their match with me.

That said, I really do care for my two leggeds. I have to. It is apparent that no one else can. I have found that the bed of the tall two-legged is very warm, and I like to bask in the sun in the morning in his room. I spend most of my time resting in my retirement in preparation for the early morning hours. He doesn’t sleep much, and in the early morning hours I can remind him of my need for canned food. I sleep between his legs, which is very annoying, but it informs me of his waking period. His nightmares are apparently a bit frustrating, but they always have one end: he is up at four o’clock and should be ready to feed me my glorious canned food. Granted, he is a bit stupid. I mean, I remind him of it constantly. “You’re up, just do it.” I got that from a Nike commercial. Good advertising slogan.

Sometimes he wanders to the bathroom, this is great entertainment. Sometimes I open doors just to see if he will stumble into them. I encourage Tolkien to lay in the hallway (he is easily convinced to do anything) and watch Daddy trip and sometimes he whacks himself against the wall. I laugh so hard it brings tears to my eyes. Annie’s backpack is often in the way and is like watching him go through a minefield in the complete dark. Jees, that’s just good stuff.

Unfortunately, Annie is responsible for giving me the canned food. Why couldn’t I have been born with thumbs that work? Still, it is nice to have an excuse to gripe and complain, and I always get what I want. I also get a crack-up about having a “captive” audience when Daddy goes to the bathroom. I can tell him everything about my life. What is he going to do? Get up? I don’t think so. I smell what is happening, and he is going no where without an immediate shower.

All said, it is not a bad life. That’s my take. There are some things you have no control over, and you make the absolute best of what you can do. Maybe Daddy should think about that.

Lilo the Cat Retired