Cora turns five

Here's to a girl who loves: shredded cheese; growling; playing in the mud while wearing a dress; maple syrup; climbing trees; dancing and singing.

My wife spent three nights making 30 of these butterfly cupcakes.  The first night was spent dipping pretzels in white chocolate and delicately adding red sugar stuff.  The next night was spent making the cupcakes and getting the icing right.  And the third night was spent icing and assembling.

She still hasn't told me where she is hiding the rest of the m&m's.

We celebrated Cora's birthday appropriately with tacos and a chocolate cake.

Cora loves dough in all forms:  biscuit, bread, cookie, pizza.  But deep down, she has a sweet tooth.   So does Cole, but the main difference is that Cole will ask for something while Cora will wait until your back is turned and sneak a handful of sugar, chocolate chips or whatever else is within her grasp.  She is a falcon with a keen eye and all the sweet delights around are her prey.

French Toast!

If you are not familiar with the works of Heywood Banks, click here.

Poem for today (by e.e. cummings)

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

e.e. cummings

Ice skating

Cole:  Have you been here before?
me: No.
Cole: Then why are you so good?
me: Because I have been skating since I was your age.
Cole:  Cool.  Some day, I will be able to tell that to my kids.

It gets cold here during the winter.  Not cold enough that you could see your breath, and not cold enough that our plants will ever know about frost, but our house has no heating and waking up in the morning and climbing out of a warm bed to an ambient air temperature of 45 degrees is not my idea of pleasant.

I took Cole and Cora ice skating.  because it seemed like a good thing to do.  It was the first time for both of them and they did well.  Cora spent most of the time with her hand on the railing around the edge of the rink.  I can only imagine how many thousands of hands have worn this railing smooth.

100100

I turned 36 this past Saturday.

Thirty six is both a square number and a triangular number.  The next number to have that distinction is 1225 (which is really cool because it is also a hexagonal number.)  I haven't been thinking of the number as a quantity this year.  I think the spirit of the number might be as close as I can get to describing it.

There is a great quote in one of my favourite books by Neal Stephenson (Snow Crash):

"Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved to a martial-arts monastery in China and studied real hard for ten years. If my family was wiped out by Colombian drug dealers and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, and devoted it to wiping out street crime. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad."


I have given up a possible career switch to being a full-time ninja.  What I like about that quote is that, early in life, I didn't have myself figured out.  There were thousands of possible paths to take.  And in reality, with the wonders of brain plasticity, I could have been many different versions of myself.

Now, I feel like I have set.  (not settled, or congealed or curdled.  You would be surprised at the number of unfavourable synonyms for the word solidify).  That isn't to say that my life is static or that I don't plan on evolving or changing.  What I am interested in, is finding how I can do new things and take on new challenges as myself.

Which path do you intend to take, Nell?" said the Constable, sounding very interested. "Conformity or rebellion?"
"Neither one. Both ways are simple-minded– they are only for people who cannot cope with contradiction and ambiguity."
-Neal Stephenson (The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer)

This is a big year.  I have big goals on the horizon.  There are big lessons to be learned and big celebrations.  And on that note, I will leave you with yet another Neal Stephenson Quote (also from Snow Crash):

"See, the world is full of things more powerful than us. But if you know how to catch a ride, you can go places,"

poem of the moment

I just read a post on my friend Molly's blog.  It got me to thinking that I don't share poems with people as much as I did in the past.  It is also an indication of how little poetry I read these days.

I need to start nourishing my head with a little more verse and a little less internet gossip sites.  My favourite place to go is the Writer's Almanac. I used to listen to it on my way to work when we lived in Indiana and I now podcast it, once in a while, just to hear Garrison Keillor's reassuring voice.

This is from the 29th of June 2005:

Poem: "Visit with the Newlyweds" by Rebecca McClanahan from Mrs. Houdini, Poems of Rebecca McClanahan. (c) University Presses of Florida.

Visit with the Newlyweds

She does not know how white her neck,
or how naked. He cannot pass her
without touching. It is summer,
their cotton clothes soft as gauze.
The relatives have given gifts
they will grow into. China teacups.
Glass birds. A clock with a second hand.
I have brought Sweet Williams.
She is amazed something so pink
can bloom every year without planting.
Yes, I answer. Eleven years for us.
Eleven? she asks and looks at the clock
As if everything were told in hours.
Upstairs by their bed, the wedding pillow.
Every night they marry again.
I want to tell them how crowded
the bed will become, how soon
he will sleep with her mother.
The bride yawns, her eyes
turning back the sheet.
Back home the sheets are thin,
the roses worn smooth
beneath bodies so familiar
we wear our skin like clothes.
You touch me and I move to lower
the straps I pretend are there.
Some nights I forget we are married.
Some nights it is all I know.

ad infinitum

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

dancing free valerie

I put on some music the other morning to accompany me doing the dishes.  Normally, I would go for John Denver, Bob Marley, Neil Diamond or other wholesome work music, but on his particular day I chose ABBA because it was at the top of the play list.  

Honestly, I probably played ABBA because deep down I was yearning for some Swedish pop music.  Ace of Base was a contender but just didn't seem right, The Cardigans aren't loaded on the iPod, and Robyn is not suitable for the kids.

"Dancing Queen" started playing and Cora was singing along before the end of the first chorus.  She requested that I play the song again and for the past two days she has been singing "Dancing free valerie" over and over and over...

In an effort to keep her sanity, Mary offered to teach her the correct words to the song (which is ironically one of Mary's favorite songs) but Cora likes her version and has not yet changed.

In other news, we attended Cora's school fête on Sunday. The universe would have a sense of justice if evil doers were reincarnated as petting zoo chickens. They were chased around, picked up and held awkwardly by children and then dropped, repeatedly.

shhhhhhhhhhh

I enjoy quiet.

Do not misunderstand.  With every passing day I prefer quiet, but that is not my point.  What I mean to say is that I find it pleasant and refreshing.  Quiet was associated with the absence of noise, just like I used to think white is the absence of colour.  Now I find quiet is a collection of small details I didn't take the time to notice in the cacophony of my day.

Colour is starting to look odd without the 'U' in it.  Incremental change is the hardest to resist.  It starts with setting my spell check for the Australian dictionary.  Then I manually go back and change all the words to the American spelling as I type.  Then I change the spell check setting to American, only to realize my clients think I am an idiot who cannot spell simple words like colour, or worse: a foreigner who refuses to assimilate.

In verbal communication, we seem to let a lot of things slide.  Last night, I was listening to a lecture on flood resistant/resilient house design and this well respected and prolific architect's speech was filled with words like buggery, bloody, ratbag and póg mo thóin (Irish Gaelic for 'kiss my ass'); along with the distracting insistence to use the word "me" in place of "my".  The room was filled with engineers and most people considered his vernacular charming.  However if there was one spelling error in the publication he handed out, we would have been on him like jackals.

I see change in me and in the other members of our family and my internal struggle is to accept it and file it under progression.  I don't need to spell the word color (or flavor) with or without the "U".  That does not define me.  Getting hung up on these things is only distracting me from the bigger picture.

The word Aluminum is another matter entirely and I will fervently fight to maintain its independence from an additional "I".

Here are some photos of the family to make this post more palatable.

This does not look comfortable.  But with emergent teeth, the ever increasing need to eat and general growing pains, I do not think Gabe's life at this time is solely based on comfort.

Mar, opened up a box of winter clothes for the kids that she had cached away and the kids have a pile of 'new' (to them anyway) clothes.  Among the gems was this little knitted hat a friend gave to us back when it fit Cole. (Thank you Laura, if you are reading this.)

Cole and Cora can operate my iPhone better than can be expected.  They take photos with it and I have a trove of snapshots (a word appropriately derived from a hunting term to mean: a quick shot taken without deliberate aim).  I will share two of the more manic variety:

Vivid Sydney

We had to fly down to Sydney to get U.S. passports renewed for Cole and Cora.  The original plan was to take a train down, which sounds like fun, but upon doing the math (two nights in a hotel, being trapped in a seat for 12 hours, Cora's constant battle with motion sickness) we decided flying was the better option.

As it turns out, Cora only dealt with the motion sickness on the way there and after she used the bag, she was in a much better mood.  I don't know how that works but I am happy it didn't last the entire flight.

We spent Sunday at the Taronga Zoo and I tried to spend as much time as possible by the giraffe enclosure.  The kids treated the zoo like most other things in their life: bored with what is in front of them and pining for some other animal they haven't seen yet.  There has to be a reason more time at the zoo was spent walking between exhibits than actually observing.

After a full day, the kids were exhausted.  Our original plan was to rest in the afternoon and go back out that night with the family, but after dinner, the Cole and Cora were content to sit on the bed and relax.

Gabe had not slept much during the day and was a tired little pineapple.  Mary took one for the team and stayed home while I went back to Circular Quay to view Vivid Sydney.

I had not heard of the festival before.  One of my clients is a sculptor who creates large public art installations that require structural engineering.  He came up with the concept of suspending a "notebook" off a building and coating it with photoluminescent paint.  He then created a giant pencil with a laser on the end of it and fabricated it in Aluminum (Aluminium for those who refuse to acknowledge Humphry Davy's intentions).  We provided engineering for the base and suspending the canvas from the building.

The festival starts at six o'clock in the evening and lasts until June 13.  Various buildings around town are lit up with special lighting and animated light projections.  Most notably, the Opera House

And my favorite was the Customs House:

The photos are not impressive because they were taken with my iPhone and I didn't take a tripod.  Both the Opera House and Customs House were animated; the images were changing and evolving and the artists were able to change my perception of the building's form.  The Customs House installation succeeded on another level because they were able to tell a story.  They transformed the façade with decorations from several eras and then showed each style forming cracks and crumbling away to reveal the next.

After walking around around in the cold for hours, I was in search of a warm beverage and I came upon GuyLian, a chocolate utopia.

If you find yourself in The Rocks in Sydney, I recommend stopping by.  I enjoyed it so much, I took Mary and the kids there the next day for a waffle.

If you look closely you notice that it is served with a bowl of melted chocolate, whipped cream and praline ice cream.  This was later revealed as a bad decision when we were waiting at the airport for two hours and the kids were yelling and running through the departure lounge like hyenas on crystal meth.

Prior to that, we walked around the Chinese Garden and took the ferry to see the harbour.  It was a successful trip and when our passports arrive in the mail we will be all set for our journey back to Wisconsin in a few months.

Flashback: April 21, 2003

I just learned that a flashback is an actual psychological term.  It was originally used to define inserting a scene taking place earlier in 'time' into the chronological structure of a story.  The psychological community started using it, particularly when the memory is recalled involuntarily.  And then radio program directors stole the term to make playing music out of their genre acceptable.

I am using it because it is applicable for me on all three accounts.

Mary and I took a detour through Madison on our way back to Indiana - we were coming back from the Easter weekend.

We have always done road trips together.  Our first 'date' was a trip up to Wisconsin for a wedding.  Back then, all we needed was a crazy idea, five minutes to throw some clothes in a backpack, find the atlas and we were off.  It is something we still enjoy, though with three kids it takes a little more coordination to get moving.  But once we back out of the driveway, pop in a Gypsy Kings CD and feel the hug of the car seats, we both smile and enjoy the ride.

one, two, three, four

Happy Mother's Day.   Moms are good.  I cannot find a word to encompass the enormity of it, so I will leave it as understood by you (since you have one) that you know what I mean.

I couldn't comprehend how much moms give until I was able to observe my wife with our kids.  It doesn't stop.

I was cooking aebleskivers for breakfast this morning and listening to Feist when I asked Mary if she had ever seen the song that Feist performed on Sesame street.  If you are so inclined, jump over to youtube and type in Feist and Sesame Street.  I loaded it up on my laptop and Cora and Cole watched it with us.

Then, I put a few more videos on and Cora was glued to the screen.  I don't think she has ever watched music videos with me.  She went through "Back it Up" by Caro Emerald, "Alright" by Supergrass, "The Golden Age" by Asteroids Galaxy Tour, "Pack Up" by Eliza Doolittle, and "Cousins" by Vampire Weekend - which incidentally is my favorite mix lately - and wanted more.  I realized she ususally doesn't have a visual component to go along with music.

Cora loves music.  She is very visual, but in a much different way than Cole.  I need to figure out if watching videos was aiding in her enjoyment of the music itself, or if the videos were simply added entertainment.

One more song that needs to be included in the list of songs above is: "Home" by Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros.  Which is exactly where we are going.  We booked tickets this weekend to go back to visit my family in August.  I am so excited I can hardly contain myself.  We visited Wisconsin in August 2006 and haven't found our way back since.  E-mail me if you want the particulars of the dates and locations.

Ahh, Home
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you

-edward sharpe & the magnetic zeros

gabe

The Easter Dinosaur

My sister-in-law, Carol, sent us some Easter chocolates with a dinosaur on the box and Cora asked me about the Easter Dinosaur.

I do not endorse fictitious holiday symbols that are a misguided attempt by parents to create "wonder" and for stores to cash-in on a cuddly character for marketing.   I understand.  Cadbury is not going to sell more chocolate if they are peddled by a biblical figure.

This isn't me protesting against commercialism.  I simply don't like the hype and I don't enjoy the charade of being a parent and having to manufacture the 'fun' of the Easter Bunny.

I can support the Easter Dinosaur though.  The naughty or nice list is believably enforced by a reptilian carnivore.  And Jurassic Park did for dinosaurs what Jaws did to sharks.  I think they could use some good publicity.  At least dinosaurs laid eggs.

We have been going to the beach often.  As I sit here on the couch, I can't wait to go back.  The last few trips we have met up with our friends, the Briens.  We have relatively low expectations when we travel to the ocean.  As Cole says: good weather, good waves and no jellyfish are all we need to make us happy; and to be honest, even the days with jellyfish aren't that bad.  But to be able to play in the surf with friends and watch our kids together is a dream.

Gabe loves to put his hands in his mouth.  I really hope he isn't teething yet.  I can't figure out another reason why he would be drooling like a great dane and trying to see if both fists will fit in his maw.  He will even put his hands deep in his gob causing him to cough and sputter.  His eyes water up and we wonder if his hands really taste as nice as he thinks they do.

He can support his head well enough that we have been putting him in the backpack carrier on walks.  It is the first step to getting him out hiking.  I think he is as excited as I am.

This year, Easter weekend public holiday here in Australia is five days long.  We get Good Friday off and since ANZAC Day falls on Monday, we celebrate Easter Monday on Tuesday.  Two more days to eat egg-shaped chocolate, grill meat over fire, and enjoy the exfoliating properties of beach sand as I apply more sunscreen.