Rurandom

Happy Holidays

2008-12-27T20:14:00.000-08:00

Been very busy lately, have not had time to do much more than micro blog. Once the mad holiday dash is over, I will post some more.

Among news - our trip to Aruba was great, relaxing fun. It was difficult to come back to to the sunless cold of Chicago. Aruba an excellent place to go and enjoy a perfect climate and do largely nothing. We felt safe and well cared for by the Arubans and the Marriott Surf Club was well-appointed, clean and friendly. The pools were even more fun than the ocean (lots of sharp bits of coral in the sand). Floating on the "lazy river" pool was fantastic and I am afraid my tan is largely on my back... An amazing variety of lizards (french-fry stealing) and really cute yellow finches (sugar thieves) were also entertaining. This Dutch protectorate is very familiar to the North American tourist. Natives are not aggressive or hard-sell, unlike Jamaica. Everyone speaks perfect English, the electrical system is the same and the food at the hotels is remarkably familiar.

We did go during the rainy season. Like Hawaii, the rain generally came in short bursts or overnight. It meant that most places were always freshly clean and the flowers were in full bloom. Only occasionally brief flooding of streets was inconvenient. There were more clouds during the day time, which was probably good for us, as we did not burn much. Well, we did also always use heavy-duty sunscreen, even with cloud cover we were about 2 degrees above the equator.

One down side is that our travel companions were a bit younger and childless. They are fabulous friends, but lifestyle differences were immediately evident. We all stayed in a condo with a separate lock out for us. We did cook a number of meals together with food from the Ling and Sons IGA in Orangestad. Our companions were less prepared for a small desert island lacking major tourist draws as well as life with a precocious child. We worked hard to make sure Fi left them alone as much as possible and everyone agrees that she was an angel. Regardless, her incessant questions are exhausting - perhaps even more than the usual 7-year-old as they usually involve a high level of complexity. We found ourselves parting company more by the middle of the week, as Fi really needed to be allowed to be a child and I knew our companions were not prepared to deal with that. Fi made a couple of little friends and learned how to swim, much more than with her lessons here in a 4-foot-deep, cold-water pool.

Highlights included a trip to the rugged coast. Rocks in little piles as far as the eye could see (no doubt by the millions of tourists) inside a rough coral bank at the base of old gold-smelter ruins had a very Blair-Witch feel to them. At one tip of the island, a trattoria next to the California Lighthouse was a special treat, with the best Italian food I think I have ever eaten. The views were outstanding, too. Some of the rock formations inland also had a very interesting feel, but they were also sheltered from the 15+ mph trade winds so the air was too hot and still. Shopping was typical for Caribbean islands, with the jeweler-to-tourist ratio really quite high. We did find some nice Delft porcelain and hand-made tablecloths. We also had some decent Dutch pancakes at Linda's, a short distance from the hotel. Other food was predictably generic - largely the stuff you get at any North American tourist draw. Only one restaurant disappointed: Tulip on Eagle Beach had dismal service, no convenient parking, unremarkable decor, non-existent landscaping or views and blah food that was ill prepared. Even condiments, like sugar for tea were missing. Not worth the expense at all. The food had been advertised as upscale and elegant.

Had Fi been older and a stronger swimmer, we might have done more snorkeling or diving. Perhaps next time. Really, I did not miss it.

One small weird thing, when you leave Aruba, you pass through both Aruban and U.S. Customs at the Queen Beatrix Airport. This means you ought to get there about 3 hours early as it is a strange marathon of checking bags, recovering them for customs and checking them again before you reach your gate. You go through two sets of metal detectors, too. Your customer service at check in? Your airline flight crew. One funny? One of my companions really wanted her passport stamped for return to the U.S. The customs official rolled his eyes and stamped. At Miami, we realized that he never bothered to take the cover off of his stamp. He faked her out.

Once I get moved into my new computer, I'll post some pictures.

General notes

2008-11-03T08:28:00.000-08:00

I find my nerves are raw over the upcoming election. I am not reassured that Obama will win. I am sure that 4 more years of the rebublican agenda is probably not going to be easy to deal with. Just the medical industry alone needs overhaul but not just deregulation. I have lost count at the doctors I know that are having a hard time making a living. Handing the industry completely to an out-of-control insurance or pharma industry is just going to make it worse. More republican restrictions on doctors, like their inability to negotiate fair compensation rates for themselves is not helping. I am certain that plowing more of the budget into pointless wars and more handouts to the ultra-rich are going to leave the great majority of us still struggling. A man who makes millions of dollars a year and calls himself a "poor republican" is so out of touch, that the truly poor and middle class would be screwed. Do the rich spend their windfall here in our economy? No, of course not, they spend it at their offshore shelters and their vacation islands in Dubai.

I should probably be working, but instead I am going to take a moment out to write an update. I left this blog behind with an emotional post.

It was a summer of upheaval. Arguments resolved, I am the sadder but wiser girl. I've come to learn that perhaps I ought to show more emotion around people I am close to, so that they have a clue when they are being destructive and I have a clue when a relationship is approaching unhealthy. I am by nature an analyst and by no means a cold person, but I guess I try to logically analyze too much.

Health challenges from the April smoke inhalation were amazing, progressing through kidney infections, anemia, a broken patella (fell while weak) and of course wheezing. I was diagnosed with "potentially fatal asthma." Despite all of it, here I am feeling whole and well again. New treatment plans have me stabilized.

Work has been challenging, with more medical writing projects than I probably should have accepted. They range from truly disturbing analysis of parasite treatment markets to new drug applications for biologics. Some are interesting, including innovative potential therapies for treating stroke and refractory cancer.

Fi is seven now. She is happily moving right along in school although we are faced with the same asynchrony. I am still home schooling, and I employed more help. The only gifted school that could handle her is over an hour away (probably two in traffic). The cost to take her there and back as well as the tuition makes it unlikely that we would send her there as a grade-schooler. I estimated the cost at more than $40k a year to us. With our son already in college (probably about 4 years to go), the cost is a bit prohibitive. The 9- or 10-hour day for her (not including homework) also seems a bit much for a little girl. Still, it is not cheap to homeschool, but I am able to work rather than drive 4 to 8 hours a day. Moving is not an option right now either.

Fi can easily read and understand books at the 4th to 5th grade level. At this point, her ability to comprehend has far exceeded her overall experience level and giving her books that might be somewhat simple is just a matter of filling in her knowledge gaps. Her developmental level is now ranging between ages 10 and 14. Her vocabulary is stunning and her science comprehension is almost frightening. She regularly uses words like "bilateral symmetry." Her writing and grammar are good, but once again we are trapped with her thinking 20 words ahead of her ability to legibly hand write each word.

On one occasion when we began employing an algebraic equation to help her understand how to visualize a story problem, she looked dismayed when I gave an unknown variable a "letter." She said, "If we use letters, we can only solve for 26 variables at a time." After pausing to digest her comment, I told her not to worry as we tend to try to break a problem down into segments, so we limit the number of unknown quantities. I did not go into symbols...

The local library donated a complete set of Brittanica encyclopedias to our home school, after a conversation with the librarian where she assured them about understanding about vetting the content of the books for accuracy (more than a little data is old by the time the book is published). I think she enjoys finding the Latin names of things more than anything else. The librarians are tickled with her and call her the 1,000-year-old child.

We are still in brownies and she is still able to socialize well with just about any age group. I also employed the moms and another troop leader to help me more this year, so I am not getting overwhelmed with hosting and organizing. We put off ballet and tae kwon do until January, as we took more time off to travel. We'll be in Aruba to stay with friends in a couple of weeks (she is enthusiastically learning Papamiento). All in all, she is well adjusted, with other moms calling her "confident and secure." I am always checking that we're still managing to do the right thing for her but these days her progress has me much more confident in our plans.

Life goes on. I should have some fun stuff to talk about post-election and with the Aruba trip.

Not posting

2008-08-14T12:44:00.000-07:00

I know I don't post enough. I have not had a lot to say. In the past months I have been horribly hurt by a friend and it seems to have derailed a lot of my interest in a lot of things, including work.

The process of rebuilding after a betrayal by someone you trust implicitly is no fun at all. It has caused me to re-evaluate all of my relationships and the extent and boundaries they have been operating under. Among some probably very good people I have also mistakenly trusted unworthy people. Unfortunately, the good will have to wait while I decide that I can be a good friend again. It is possible to have friends I think, without depending on them too much.

Overall I think the damage to my self esteem was a gradual process with a harsh final blow. It occurs that I probably should have pulled out of this friendship a long time ago. I have been taking inventory, and I am not finding I am not nearly as lacking as I have been led to believe.

Not to worry, I think I'll be back, but it may take a bit.
Ru

Long-term happiness

2008-06-22T20:22:00.000-07:00

We recently crossed our 16th anniversary. We've been friends for about 25 years business partners for 21, and very close for about 20. For the most part, our married life has been easy, even if life all around has often been difficult. We are nearly always together, even though we try to work separately -- if not to diversify our income/benefits, to bring new experience to the mix. We do tend to rush home to each other.

I sometimes worry that maybe I am too complacent. Can someone be too sure about their relationship? It makes me occasionally paranoid and I have that "waiting for the other shoe to drop" feeling. Aging in a society of youth worshiping does nothing to allay my paranoia. How is it that we're having an easier time? More compatible overall? I doubt it.

I have been thinking about the past years and what two people can get through. We've survived life-threatening diseases (remission for more than 20 years with one and 7 with the other). We've lost friends and family and had close calls. We've grieved through the separation from some other friends and family because of the inordinate stress those people created. We've had long layoffs. We've survived an unbelievably complicated pregnancy. One child is half way through his undergraduate work. Another child is prematurely on her way to completing grade school. No doubt there were other threats to our relationship that we each dealt with individually.

Recently a friend told me how unstressed and happy we appear and I was surprised to hear it. Without the example of a happy, long-term relationship in her family, she has been looking to us as an example. Are we that calm and happy? Well, I guess so, in public. I think in public we tend to be so lighthearted that we turn into the entertainment. More privately, we do have our anxious moments. I have been thinking about it ever since she said it. Over the years I think the hard parts helped us peel away what was unimportant, superficial. We don't argue the little things very much, unless a small argument is just the kind of release that is needed. We seem to reach a natural and fair consensus very quickly. I don't think either one of us can be called the loser. I think fundamentally we treat each other with more than a small amount of respect. When we fight, we no longer try to win points against each other. Really, there is no winning in taking down your partner, anyway.

In the early days we kept the house neat, we kept the schedule in our organizers, in pen. Over the years the schedule and the house can get a bit muddy and we're happy to go with it. Periodically we clean up. This leaves us feeling renewed and productive.

The marriage was the same way. Early on, we were overly careful, easily stressed, over-planned, over-prepared and worked too hard. Now we work on things when it is necessary, or to get a bit of fresh perspective and enjoy just being together. If you spend too much time grooming and cleaning, you never actually get to the living life part.

I was listening to a marriage counselor/sex therapist on a news program. She had come to the conclusion that long-term relationships are unnatural and that we are all really designed for serial monogamy. It was a reckless and destructive thing for her to say. Perhaps this might be true at a reptile-brain-stem level, but in a society where two incomes are necessary to attain financial security, who really benefits from the destruction of a relationship just past the point when the children have become somewhat self-sufficient? I wonder where I would be if my parents had self-destructed as soon as I hit moderate self-reliance? Their 57+years together means we have a solid foundation that continues to benefit even my 56 y.o. sibling. Not the least of the benefits is that they are self-sufficient in their old age, which apparently is becoming less common. I can't imagine a more shameful thing than coming to rely on my kids some day for financial support.

Home science

2008-06-09T20:02:00.000-07:00

Home science is definitely a trip. Of course we engaged in all of the normal planting seeds, caring for a classroom pet (a betta fish), weather, properties of matter, basic biology, chemistry and physics. Now we have successfully hatched butterflies and a Japanese quail chick.

I actually learned a lot from the butterflies - the caterpillar growth curve is alarming, and the emergence from chrysalids is messy and involves lots of red meconium. Also, butterflies are not graceful. They crash land. They also seem to communicate not only with wing flashing but by tapping their front legs (legs that are normally tucked up to their thorax). I greet them by tapping fingernails on the table next to their habitat.

The quail has been harder and involved a steep learning curve. We only had one hatch, but the eggs were a bit old. Now two weeks old, the quail appears to be a female, so it looks like we're in for some (infertile, tasty) eggs. The little thing is strangely friendly and comes over to cuddle my hand when I reach into the brooder cage. We have to tap on things with a finger to emulate pecking and it gets the idea that we are kindred behaviorally. She developed really, really fast. Within two weeks we went from the size of a fluffy quarter to the size of a baseball with comically large feet. The adult feathers are also nearly already in. I expect it will be able to fly and roost in the top of the brooder in a matter of days.

On a related note: I recently found out that several of the moms that deal with my daughter at extracurricular activities came to my defense at a PTA meeting. Someone on the staff made a derogatory comment about homeschooling. The parents had used me as an example on how the local curriculum does not in fact address the needs of all of the children in the community, and probably omits a fairly sizable number. The moms explained that I had managed to teach Fi and the school would not have been able to do it.

The parents of other children may not think to hire their own psychologist or experts. Then their children are tested by the school with exams that are well known to "normalize" them by having an exceptionally low ceiling of measurement. Even the IQ test the school uses has a maxiumum score of 130, which means that a child may only score borderline gifted. This sets up untold numbers of highly capable kids for boredom and under-performance (especially if they are girls).

I would be delighted if the school did develop a program that accommodated children with accelerated skills and asynchronous development. I would certainly enroll her. I would also love to see them use more foreign language (We're currently soaking up Mandarin, Spanish, French, Korean, Finnish and Papamiento).

It was nice to learn that of those moms that were most speculative about my choices for Fi, many have become supporters after interacting with her.

Weddings

2008-05-04T18:48:00.000-07:00

I think I have attended about 100 weddings ranging from the marriage of Shirley Temple Black's nephew to a Morton Salt/Sunbeam heiress to a small dinner at a diner. I have my fair share of weird bridesmaid dresses, too. Of that sample, none of the individuals that spent a king's ransom on the wedding are still married. All of the others that were nice but simple affairs - those marriages are intact. I can't say that as a guest or other participant I enjoyed lavish events more, or remember them all that much. Weddings tend to blend into a nebulous memory of ceremonies and meals. There are few standouts. Simpler events seemed happier and less forced.

Our wedding was at home. We did invest in the normal stuff like flowers, chairs, tents and tables. We were lucky that all of the food and cake were lovingly made by a host of talented chefs and bakers as well as a handful of Polish, Jewish and Finnish grandmothers. All of our friends were motivated to outdo each other and feed 130 guests until they burst. People still talk about the food. My mother is a professional seamstress and clothing designer, so she hand embroidered a gown. She also made the bridesmaid dresses - none of the girls had to buy anything but perhaps a pair of shoes.

My only nephew was married yesterday. I was dreading the event. I love the kid, and his new wife is wonderful. His parents (my brother) are the nightmare. My brother's wedding fell perhaps too far into the simple category - all the way into cheap. It was an event akin to going to church, but not a party. However, they are still married which is what counts. Both my brother and sister-in-law complained about the fuss of their son's wedding, even through they did not pay for it. I was downright worried that it would be an event with decades of debt to follow.

The wedding was none of those things. I was pleasantly surprised. During the rehearsal and setup we all pitched in to finish the final details, which was nice for all of us as we felt included. The church was a lovely, modern building in Lake of the Woods. Multiple aisles and a somewhat circular design lent itself to a more community event where participants and audience were all in full view of each other. There were a lot of bridesmaids and groomsmen, including my little daughter as the flower girl. The couple have a lot of friends, many of whom met through my nephew and were subsequently married. Although the groomsmen clearly had matching tuxedos, the bridesmaids were allowed to wear simple black gowns of their choice, as their body types would dictate. It was a small but refreshing change from odd costumes I have seen and worn. Black was a nice choice as the flowers were bright and happy and really stood out. The flower girl wore a white dress that was similar to the bride's very classic gown (giving her father a scary preview of things to come).

There was a photographer, but since we have a cluster of shutterbugs in the family, there were countless other cameras around (I brought 2 full bags of gear). The couple should have about 3,000 photos of their event.

The reception was a typical hotel dinner for 250 people, with the exception that all of the setup was put together by their friends (many of whom seem to work in the entertainment industry). Videos, slide shows, the DJ and lighting, the decor, table cards, monogrammed cookies, table games and wish cards had a loving touch that was stunning. With a simple meal and some of the regular events, we were treated to a very happy celebration. Fun events included the police "arresting" my nephew during the "dollar dance" for solicitation. Apparently the cop was a friend that also met his wife through my nephew. All of the details making sure the guests were comfortable did not add up to an expensive affair. Interestingly, there was not a lot of alcohol, and no one missed it.

I think I took 500 of those photos. Time to edit...

Their psychopathic ways

2008-04-19T13:55:00.000-07:00

Where I used to live, I had more neighbors, and better ones, too. Where I live now, there are several around the block, but they are far enough away that it is hard to socialize with them. We wave, or wave not. Some of our kids play together. For all practical purposes, I have to deal with two of them.

The neighbors across the way occasionally assault us with drunken parties with all of their friends - I think in a hot tub. Mostly I could care less, I only ask that the party and its accompanying music move inside around 3 a.m. Really, they are getting old for the Miller High Life; their livers or pocketbooks are going to give out soon enough. (Honestly, I don't recognize them unless they're holding large cocktails).

Next door, there is "Carl." Carl is a sociopath. This week, Carl started to burn leaves in his front yard. This normally does not bother me, but the smoke came to my house - literally. I noticed that I was coughing, but I had no idea the smoke was slowly seeping in until it was too late. I found out when I walked out the front door and took in a lung-full of thick, white smoke.

I have asthma. Mine is triggered by smoke. I called Carl (got voice mail) and asked him if I could please haul his leaves away at my own expense, as his smoke was entering my home. At least three members of my household have asthma, including my 6-year-old. I also know of other families with asthma on the block. Luckily, everyone else seemed to cough a couple of times, rub their eyes and stay stable. In my case, my asthma was quickly becoming life-threatening.

I started heavy-duty medicines as soon as I knew it was the smoke that made me cough. In spite of five drugs, I got progressively worse.

As it turns out, Carl lit another leaf pile and the smoke was again coming for us. I put on a NIOSH respirator and asked him in person to put out the fire. I asked if he got my message. He said "no." I said, "I wanted to offer..." and he said "No, you may not take away my leaves." Meaning to me that he did indeed get my message and was lying.

As I stood there dumbfounded, pleading for my health, he proceeded to rant about long-term habits and his right to burn leaves (in between drags on his cigarette). His argument was that he had done this every year, long before most of the houses in the area were built. He seemed completely to miss the point that now that there are other houses, there are also breathing families within those houses. I was coughing, literally gasping, but it just never seemed to register with him.

Rob came after me and brought me home, and got some photos of the fire.

At this point, my asthma was in full attack. I called 911. In the ambulance, they could not find my left lung sounds and fretted about my heart so they fussed over stabilizing me before we even left the driveway. The sheriff that came along asked Carl in terms something like "don't be an ass," to put out the fire. The sheriff recommended to Rob that we pursue a civil action.

I spent several hours in the hospital with IV steroids and inhaled medicines. I dislike hospitals. I learned very early in my medical training that hospitals and patient care were never going to be for me. We discussed my admittance several times. I talked the doctor into letting me come home since I have equipment here, too, and the fire is out. I have had the maximum steroid dose for 12 hours anyway. I finally managed to take deep breaths after my fourth full breathing treatment and the steroids started to kick in. The doctor said, relieved, "You are moving air! I can hear your lungs." My heart calmed, and my O2 levels rose.

I explained about the fire. The doctor was angered by the story, and it turns out he is a trustee for our town. He immediately e-mailed other trustees and said he was sure the leaf burning violated an ordinance agreed to by all the bordering towns, even for unincorporated areas. He even wrote a terse note on a hospital prescription pad to give to the neighbor, full of terms making it clear that Carl's actions "precipitated a life-threatening attack."

OK, so, the moral of the story is two-pronged. One, if you have asthma that is normally so well-controlled that you don't take a daily steroid, you have to be twice as careful to notice the warning signs of an attack. Paroxysmal coughing, throat clearing or light wheezing means "take action immediately!" For a patient with constant, chronic asthma, the attacks are not as violent and sudden so they are not as suddenly life threatening. Ironically, the well-controlled population, especially children, are at high risk of sudden death.

Two, think twice about burning leaves, even if your area allows it. They are always a bit moist, so the smoke is thick and cool. At very cold temperatures the smoke may well rise straight up, but in the spring and fall, especially during low barometer days, it is just as likely to hug the ground and injure people you do not know. Even brush fires tend to be hotter and less smoky (the smoke rises with the intense heat). Many towns and townships do offer some free composting options if you cannot afford to have landscapers take your leaves away. Some even offer free low-odor compost bins free or at a discount (leaf compost may well filter out sulfur compounds from wastewater and when mixed with coffee grounds decompose into a garden-rich mixture).

More and more people will get asthma, as pollution is making several cities (and downwind of power plants) danger zones for previously healthy lungs. This is going to be a problem more often, for more people.

Agh Spring

2008-03-03T19:06:00.000-08:00

We had a flood downstairs. We noticed about 10 p.m. with a splash as we were walking by the bed. I spent the night on towel patrol. I think about 20 gallons came inside over 24 hours.

So with cold splatter, my summer plans are changed.

As it turns out, we have a part of the basement foundation wall extending off the back of our first floor privacy apartment into the back yard. There, five brick-clad, slate-capped concrete stairs lead from a glass door to the back deck. At the bottom of the stairwell is a drain. The uphill side of this drain has taken to freezing and creating an ice dam for the drainage tile. When we have a rapid thaw of over a foot of snow (from 20 degrees to 58 in 24 hours) and about an inch of rain to boot, a dam on the drainage tile is bad. A pinhole at the base of the foundation wall is all it takes to have a freezing puddle in the middle of your program.

I dug out the blueprint for the house. Yes indeed, there is a complete foundation wall back there, enclosing 10 feet square, partially obscured by stairs. It is about a foot thick, as my dad intended to add a third story to this place and we carefully built in the forest without destroying mature trees (tree doctors kept many an oak alive). The trees and the added weight will do nothing to dent this foundation.

A quick inventory of the supplies in the outbuildings indicate we have windows and glass doors ready. My dad was a contractor and a depression survivor, so he probably squirreled away an entire house on this property. So my summer schedule? I am going to dust off the tool belt and build a two-story addition. I need to cover the staircase drain to prevent the flooding. The first level will be an enclosed staircase/greenhouse and second floor a step-up solarium off of the guest bedroom. The exposure is southern, but the addition would place a new gable at the middle of the southern wall. In the summer it is well shaded by trees. In the winter, the sun streams in and warms the place.

So now the research begins. What flooring and wall covering between the windows will provide the best absorption mass for solar energy? I suspect I can make a dent on the heating bill if I do it right. Admittedly it is not hard to heat and retain heat in this fortress, but now I am really serious about it.

I look forward to arguing with the building and zoning people about just how much this adds to the property value.

Wrangling

2008-02-26T20:41:00.000-08:00

I recently volunteered, like a sucker, to be a Brownie troop leader. The kids are adorable and the job is easy. What I did not expect is the recent onslaught of people that question why I am currently home-schooling my daughter. I am having a hard time defending it. Frankly I don't want these parents to think I am a religious nut, idiot, or that I do not think I want my child learning with theirs. The local schools are not capable of teaching Fi, and the schools that can teach her adequately involve a commute of more than an hour each way and about $25K in tuition (Plus my lost income in commuting). Sue me if I think this is a bit steep for the k-3 grades.

I know that there are a lot of parents that are eager to believe that any talent makes their child "gifted." In fact, I am sure that each child probably has some gift. I have started to hate the term "gifted." What I have on my hands is a child that clearly a genius or what they call "profoundly gifted." What I also reject is the notion that this means that my child should somehow rocket past her early childhood and start picking out a college curriculum. She may well discuss how we are hurtling through space and traveling in time but she is still only six years old. She is equally thrilled with sledding, building with legos, playing with stuffed animals and collecting butterfly stickers. I am forced to defend her childhood while getting her a curriculum that meets her intellect.

When Fi was 4 months old, she began to speak. I thought I was sleep deprived and hallucinating. Here was an infant that still did not hold her head up on her own and words were spilling from her mouth. A couple of weeks in I told my mother. She said "No honey, they do not talk this soon." Not hours later her father walked into the room and the baby said really quite clearly "Hewo Dada." My mother admitted that she heard words, too. I explained that she seemed to prefer to call me "Hungy." I was her food supply, so it was fitting. She also said words in Finnish. Aiti, Aurinko, Tutti, (Mom, Sun, Pacifier) were all part of her repertoire. She also said something that took me 4 years to figure out. We even tried to get her to tell us what she meant. It started as "meeps n' moips." We would ask her about six months later "what is that?" so she replied "meeps n' moips, what is that?" The mystery continued until one day I was packing away the long disused changing table. I slapped my forehead and realized she was saying "need some wipes."

So fast forward to the pediatrician asking me at between 9 months and 12 months if Fi could say Mama, Dada and a couple of other words. I said no, she has about a 100 word vocabulary. The woman looked at me disbelieving. I asked Fi to identify what she saw in a painting on the wall. She pointed to and identified trees, sky, birds, grass, flowers, and even identified some colors. The doctor dropped into a chair with her mouth open. I looked down at her and said "but she will level out with her peers, right?" "No, I'm sorry," she said. Not long after, full sentences with really good diction and grammar were bubbling from Fi all day long. We knew (and still know) when she was awake as she was talking.

She started spontaneously reading at age two. This is about the time she announced her desire to work for NASA. This was a big jump since at age one she announced that she wanted to be a fire truck. Thank God for the small ways she is completely a child. I still regret each time I corrected her diction in the early days. Mispronounced words like "Pukky Dogs" and "Hibiscuits" were few and precious.

Tests at age four showed that she works intellectually at twice her age. The local school superintendent said to me "Well, we would have the kindergarten teacher evaluate her and decide where to place her after school starts." I insisted that placement would have to be decided before school and she was not to be yanked from classes. My discussion with this teacher showed that she had no experience with highly skilled children. She said "I think probably she would end up in third grade this year." She was 5, and destined to be the freak? Nope. I was left with little choice but to find resources to teach her at home for a while. I ended up spending only a little less than the "gifted" schools would demand in curriculum materials ($480 a credit hour plus books!), consulting fees and a classroom. She is just too young for the commute. I would have loved for her to be able to fit in with the local schools.

I do spend a lot of time ferrying her around to classes to offer her social interaction. I am hoping that Brownies will be fun for her. Hopefully the other Moms and I can come to an agreement that we're doing what we think is best for our kids.

Little Mister Chaos Engine

2007-10-04T22:21:00.000-07:00

A couple of times a week I find myself parked on a set of aluminum bleachers, either watching my daughter work a gym or waiting for her to come pouring out of her martial arts class. Sometimes it is the most boring part of the week, occasionally there is an interesting parent to talk to. I usually can't even bring work as most of it is marked "Confidential." That is a sure fire way to attract curiosity. Reading is a bad idea anyway, as you are likely to get beaned.

The gym is part of our park district. In the evenings it is a clean, free, brightly lit place to bring your kid. The perimeter is carpeted and bleachers are placed strategically, to put parents in the line of misfired basketballs. Numerous baskets dangle from the ceiling at various heights, depending on the age of the kids shooting for them. One end has several large plastic climbing toys.

This week I plunked down on the low front of one bleacher next to a mom that was waiting for her twins to come out of their tae kwon do class. My daughter ran off to find just the right basketball from a large rack, sensing that she had a few minutes of free time before her class. I had a basketball under my feet, but whatever. She returned immediately, this time really intent on showing us that she could really dribble this perfect basketball.

A small serious boy about 4 years old came up to me, gave me a bad look and took the basketball from under my feet, At first I thought I had his ball and was prepared to apologize. Then he drop kicked it. Something about his serious nature and the random act had us immediately transfixed. He turned to my daughter "Can I have that?" he asked. She was affable and gave it to him. He drop kicked it.

The other mom and I started to laugh. I saw my daughter in her little gi with a stunned look that was rapidly turning to an intent to do some drop kicking of her own. I asked him "Hey, can you get that for her?" He brightened and said "Sure! and he did. My daughter thanked him and contentedly returned to dribbling. He turned to me and said in wooden explanation "Soccer." I was tearing up and holding my stomach.

Little mister chaos engine made the rounds from basket to basket. He walked up to each ball holder, asked for their basketballs, GOT THEM and DROP KICKED THEM. He was skilled at firing the balls as far away from their owners as possible. We were howling with laughter. He left a gymnasium full of disbelief in his wake. He promptly, calmly went on to the next victim. I turned to the other mom and said "this won't last long." Sure enough, most of the gym, a few dozen people, were now on to the little imp. He would walk up and ask his same disarming "Can I have that?" The answer was now a steady look and a deadpan "No." He continued to work the room and found a few stray balls to kick, invariably at some more unsuspecting victims.

Classes let out and my daughter bowed her way into her lessons. The other mom left with her twins and I looked up to see Mr. Chaos Engine was gone. Some parent had picked him up when I was distracted. I returned to the normal boredom, this time halfheartedly helping young park district employees collect and rack 30 or more loose basketballs. The games took several minutes to recover from the random assaults.

I can't wait for next week.

Finally, some sun

2007-08-26T10:47:00.000-07:00

It has been raining here in the suburbs of Chicago for a long time. We have record flooding. Although I have neighbors with some wet basements, we happen to be on a sizable hill, so all is good in the house for a change. The sun is supposed to be here for a few days.

However, the storms really took a toll on me. On Thursday, the husband of one of my close friends was actually hit by a tornado or exceptionally strong straight-line winds. The warehouse portion of his workplace was destroyed, with 40 people including him inside. This place was the logical choice in the building for a storm shelter, since the section had no windows. No one was killed, but he and 6 others were hurt enough to go to the hospital by ambulance. One remains hospitalized. My close friend was trapped and hysterical in Florida at the time of her husband's accident.

Without thinking much about it, I called my friend's husband and told him I was on my way to get him home from the hospital. I figured it would be hours before they would release him anyway. I set my parents and child up in the basement with a laptop set to the NOAA weather map. The same destructive storms were bearing down on my husband's work and my home.

I jumped in the truck. The drive to the hospital would have been and hour, maybe two in rush hour traffic. It took me over four of the most amazing hours of my life.

The storms came in waves of flooding rain and 60 to 70 mph winds. On the trip I had to turn back about 10 times, to avoid road closures for accidents, power lines/snapped power poles, a billboard in the center of the highway, deep flood water, trees shattered in the way, blowing debris, and attacking patio furniture. I expected to see a cow fly by at any moment. I amazingly did not get hit by the waves of hail, debris or lightning, although all were a close thing. I did have to drive over downed power lines that were thankfully not hidden in deep, conductive flood water. The traffic lights and street lights were out just about everywhere. Luckily, a lot of homes still had power and the height of the storm occurred before dark - when we could all still see the road, flood water and intersections. Some of the streets were flooded from curb to curb and I could hear the lower drive belts start screaming. My brakes never slipped once but I do remember being thankful for the load-leveling function when I had to stop abruptly. I drove on the elevated center median a few times. I tried to stay toward the center of wider roadways to avoid falling debris. In the final hour of the journey, the storm lessened but darkess fell and the police tried to direct traffic. There were just not enough of them for all of the unlit intersections. In dozens of intersections, they at least had deposited flares.

Throughout all of this, my terrified friend in Florida is calling me on her rapidly failing phone battery and I am occasionally calling her husband. She is trying to get a flight out and is having her own adventure. I can hear in her husband's voice when the adrenaline wore off and the real pain of a cleanly broken humerus, bruised ribs and injured knees hit. I can also tell later when they finally give him morphine. I am doing my best to not let either of them know that I am having a particularly difficult trip. My friend gets a look at a weather map of the area, and says "oh no, you are in the middle of that?" I said "I'm fine."

I keep in my car a series of emergency kits, including first aid, disaster kits, blankets, rain gear, food and water. I am usually prepared to offer medical aid. The one item that really saved the night was my iPhone. Before you roll your eyes, let me explain. The maps function on this phone worked thoughout my trip through the storm-torn western suburbs and gave me a heads up of the traffic ahead with easy to see red and yellow markings over blocked roadways. I could see weather maps in the browser and drive away from the worst of the storm. The phone itself was an obvious necessity. The quick access to e-mail when my friend's cell phone battery died was terribly helpful as her laptop had a little more life and she was at the airport with wifi access. The SMS traffic kept me in touch with my husband, trying to make his own amazing journey home from the city (and later to the airport to get my friend). The iPhone battery held up through 4 hours of heavy use. I avoided charging it in the heavy cloud-to-ground lightning striking around me. All this, and it propped up on my dash in front of me in one neat little package.

I finally made it to the hospital just as her husband was being released. We looked over his x-rays to see the top of the humerus sheared off but in good relative position. He escaped without any other broken bones and no pneumothorax. Behind his knees, bruises the size of dinner plates were forming, with a central laceration that indicated a pretty sharp blow. We realized later that his injuries came from being knocked down under a falling steel roof girder that was stopped from crushing him. He is lucky to be alive. He went home in hospital clothes, as his were soaked in diesel fuel, antifreeze, water and who knows what else.

I took him to the nearest open Burger King (a wide area around the hospital was completely without power), and we got him medicated before the short-lived morphine shot wore off. We equipped with instant ice packs at Walgreens and I got him home to his sofa to sleep. I called my home to check on my parents and child. I checked the map for the weather at U of I to make sure my son was safe.

In my friend's home I slumped in a chair nearby while their cat sat on me for comfort. I showed the cat pictures from "I can has cheezeburger" on the iPhone. A fourth round of severe weather raged outside but I was largely beyond caring. I did put on the NOAA map on their laptop. We waited for my husband and my friend to get home from Midway Airport. The cat happily purred and drooled all over me.

We all got home. We are all safe, now. We even collected his car from the disaster site unscathed. I'll post pix at Chaos Digest.

My vehicle is undamaged, and I have more respect for it. I had resented trading in my little red sportscar for this practical monstrosity, despite all of the appropriate reasons to do so. The little red car would not have made the trip.

I have been tired and wound up ever since. As much as the entire night alarms me now, I would not have done anything differently.

Not an MP fan just now.

2007-06-01T05:21:00.000-07:00

I was driving through North Chicago near the Great Lakes Naval Training Base. As I approached a major intersection something odd caught my eye. Something small and two-legged was skittering across the intersection. At first I thought it was just another bird to dodge on a 17-year cicada feeding frenzy. It did not fly away as cars approached. I stopped for a red light and craned my head to look around a Navy police car in the left-hand turn bay. It was a single baby duck. I was filled with dread for the poor little thing. I watched it, dumbstruck with my hands on either side of my face.

The tiny creature was obviously frightened and disoriented. There was no sign of the rest of the brood. The duckling ran under vehicles and made its way to the lane where the policeman would be shortly. I looked at him. He was finishing an enormous donut with a irritated look on his face. I was trying to decide how I might get over there and get the duck out of the intersection without becoming a casualty/additional road hazard. I was not in the turn bay. The intersection has double lanes in all directions.

The light turned green with an arrow for the cop. He took off purposefully. I felt relieved, as it seemed he was going to make sure the duck got out of the intersection. He pulled forward, slowed and appeared to be coming to a stop. He then took aim and crushed the animal under a tire.

Now I am formally educated in biology. I know that the duck has little chance of survival on its own. I also know that the brood is intentionally large, since several members are unlikely to make it to breeding age. It is better for the species if the slow duck does not pass on its genes. I am not particularly sentimental or disturbed with the circle of life. But in this case the innocent animal was laid to waste. Something else is now going to become a road hazard if it finds the carcass. The countenance of the policeman, his behavior before the event did not say to me that he was intent on a mercy kill.

Witnessing the whole thing has chilled me to the bone.

B-nothing-nothing-G

2007-03-02T09:18:00.000-08:00

She walked up to me and said "B-nothing-nothing-G." I looked up from my neurotransmitter research, "What, honey?" "B-nothing-nothing-G! That is 2007, mom." I stare at her blankly and ask "who taught you that?" "I was just thinking, and decided to try to number the letters of the alphabet, and then I used the alphabet for numbers. It is fun." She ran off to play fairies.

Mental note: February 2007, 5-year-old invents the number-letter substitution cipher for a lark. I am screwed.

UPDATE: She went from the number cipher rapidly to writing in Morse code. I figured it out! She was avoiding having to write in upper and lower case letters. I told her she could use all caps if she was more comfortable and problem solved. She still does give me notes in code here and there.

Feminist Debate

2006-09-19T15:44:00.000-07:00

Am I a feminist? Yes. I do not live in continuous distrust of the patriarchy. So how am I feminist? I believe that in the U.S. there are no limits on any human capabilities other than those imposed upon them, by themselves. Equal pay for equal work is just logical. Pay based on reaching performance objectives is better. Have a kid, don't have a kid, marry, stay single, stay at home and cook or go out an conquer an industry, whatever you want is up to you. If the people around you want to direct your choices because you are a woman, demand your right to be your own complete human or choose to surround yourself with other people.

I grew up in an old-fashioned household where my mother stayed largely at home. My mother, later decided to go to college. She is still a bit too dependent on my father.

I chose highly technical fields that were nearly completely populated by men. Some where not certain that I belonged just because no woman had before. I changed their minds, when I was equally competent. Other women complained to me about it, but I also notice that these women did not get off of their asses and do the work to prove anyone wrong about their assumptions. They said "we will never be (blank) because they won't let us." Bullshit. There I was, cute and tiny with big blue eyes, blond hair. I succeed on intellect and willingness to work. Each and every one of the men in my classes worked hard to be where they were. They were not handed the positions in the program by a patriarchy. I was, at the time, just the only woman to apply.

This is not to say that I have not felt some measure of discrimination and I could have taken them very seriously. Once my older brother told me "You ought to go to University of Chicago! they will not know what hit them, you'll be the best looking woman there." I nearly shouted "What?! I am not going there to enter a pageant. I am a really good student." He apologized. Similarly, several men from a particular medical school made somewhat inappropriate comments when they found me sunning outside my home in a bathing suit one weekend. They were simply men, and socially inept as most young male med students are, and their perceptions of me in my bathing suit had no impact on our work in the lab. I will note that I was content to stare at some of the young men running the exercise course around the school. We are ultimately, sexual beings, too.

I built my own business. I chose to marry a aggressive, masculine, educated man that does not place limits on anyone based on gender. I rejected many men that occupied themselves with frivolous expressions of masculinity, (like an all-consuming obsession with watching but not playing sports), or regarded me as second class. Weaker men that needed to feel some control over my comings and goings were never appealing. I choose to spend some time away from work to educate my child, with the help of a couple universities, because there is no better person capable of dealing with her atypical skills and preserve her early childhood. I will not put her into day care to be taught by intellectual inferiors that are likely to be threatened by her abilities and stifle her inquisitive and confident nature. Within my household I run the finances and the inventory. My spouse shops more than I do. He cleans and cooks as much as I do. He could not, for example, breastfeed our child, but he could rock her to sleep and change the diapers. I choose the cars we buy, based on their mechanical integrity, fuel efficiency and safety. I do household construction projects. He wires us for audio/video and keeps us in technology. We both contribute financially. I do the taxes. We support each other in all aspects of our lives, as partners.

I have mixed feelings about people that spend a lot of time worrying about the patriarchy. I find I am as uncomfortable with someone that jumps into my face and screams about succumbing to men as I am about some stranger jumping up and explaining anything about their sexual preferences. The comment I usually offer at that point is "Uh, how nice of you to share, now what is your name?" My personal philosophy is be whomever you want, spend less time talking about it and more time doing it. I am not interested in initiating a matriarchy in replacement, either.

A patriarchy simply does not exist in my life. I am not a victim in my household, careers or public exposure. I succeed in business, as a parent, as a spouse and as a community leader because I roll up my sleeves and get to work. Strangers invariably appoint me to positions of authority because I do the job.

I fail to understand how anything I choose to wear from shoes to makeup becomes anything but the choices I make for myself. Society may dictate that a certian style in in fashion, but I don't have to comply. You will never, for example, catch me in low-rise jeans (you're welcome). If I occasionally choose to dress in a way that I know please my spouse, this is not succumbing to his superiority, it is because I care and I recognize that he is a man, too. I am not denying my own womanhood, or capacity as a human. I want my husband to be sexually attracted to me as much as I enjoy when he dresses to attract me.

Over the years we have encouraged some of our friends, men and women, escape violent or abusive circumstances. We have gone out of our way to try to help others, but the help was refused. As humans they are able to stand up, walk out and start a new life. None of those that did were extraordinarily strong or gifted. They just did it. If a person chooses to marry, live with or otherwise stay with an abusive person, ultimately it is their choice. Some refuse assistance when it is offered. Again, their choice. There are shelters and people standing ready to help, but until someone decides for themselves that they have the integrity to be a complete person, there is little that will change by acting socially misfit and screaming about social inequity. Social change is enacted by example, when someone well-regarded shows the way.

So, I do know women and men that have been content to take a background support role to someone else (be it spouse or parents). Personally I am not certain that these individuals really have what it takes to be out on their own, or to compete in more individualized pursuits. There are days when I know exactly why someone chooses to stay home, cook, bake and raise a child. It is fun and comfortable. No one should be forced to relinquish child-raising to a stranger. I think that perhaps rather than attacking their partners for giving them an environment in which they could play support, perhaps we should just get back to the business of living our own lives and allow no artificial barriers stop us. Not everyone has what it takes to be CEO, be they men or women, someone is always going to have to push the broom.

I recently read the blog of a person that decided that she was going to open Feminism for discussion. She created a feminist blog, so obviously felt some desire to expose the topic, but the "discussion" and "open question" time was only going to be "on this occasion." I find this as openly hostile as anything anti-feminist. If you are going to publish, in public, your views it is nothing but an exercise in self-congratulation and not furthering your cause if you will not openly discuss the topic. Her views are presented just as inequitably as her perceived patriarchy. Obviously I am not asking anyone to withstand the abuse that some would so eagerly provide. Discourse, however is a necessary element to reaching an understanding.

Oh crap, I'm It?

2006-09-12T23:26:00.000-07:00

Yes, it is true that I have not posted. I was busy, the it was later, then later still and then I had considered abandoning work on the site. I have plenty of good excuses, none of which you want to hear about.

...but I have been tagged. So as a good netizen, I will respond.

How long have you been blogging?
I began blogging with Chaos Digest in November of 2003. I have also begun blogging at a site called Live from the Sun.

Self-Portrait:
As of next week I am officially a middle-aged female and cranky about it. I intend to fight aging with anything short of DNA replacement. Oh, why stop there.

I work in science/tech, mostly fighting ignorance and mistakes when I am not working on/advocating the education of a frighteningly gifted young girl.

Why do readers read your blog?
I am not sure that more than one person has read it. I think it is like any blog, a curiosity for a while.

What was the last search phrase someone used to get to your site?
No one has used one to get to my site. Even Google has no idea this place exists.

Which of your entries unjustly gets too little attention?
IMO, any of the posts on stem cells at CD. I am not actually seeking attention here. Really, this is an interest of mine, bordering on obsession for many reasons I cannot share. Stem cells are important, and are key in resolving degenerative disease.

Your current favorite blog?
I can't call any blog my favorite. I really love the experiment between far-flung friends that is CD. I love blogs. What an interesting peek into the egos (and alter egos) of strangers. Ever since 1989, I have been utterly hooked on the Internet and watching the the innovations in the way people relate to one another.

What blog did you read most recently?
My Alter Ego Speaks, where I found to my dismay that I was tagged. :)

Which feeds do you subscribe to?
None. At CD, I've lost count. You have some we missed? Let me know.

What blogs are you tagging with this meme and why?
I tag Keeme at Haggis Ain't Cake, because he needs to keep up and about. That is it. This place is kinda small, for now.

Leave it better...

2006-04-18T11:58:00.000-07:00

Scratched into the black fibres of the Celotex there was the message, apparently intended for me, but written about 16 years before: "To anyone who reads this Fuck You." I had only been in the house for 2 weeks. We decided that the rough-hewn plywood-style siding was in too poor of repair to make it through the rainy season and winter. As soon as we had removed the way-too-light, de-laminated siding there was this message. I can only assume it was written by some contractor/carpenter/laborer that bore all malice. At the time it was written, I was only seven years old. My father carefully scratched out the message and proceeded to staple house wrap and tar paper over the old wall material. It became a grim day.

Is that the best that an average human can hope for? To insult someone or disappoint them 16 years or later in the future? What provoked the ire? Did this person feel badly towards the entire building or was it this perception that their life's work was unimportant? One day the siding,even the house would be repaired or replaced, so evidence of his existence would be gone. I kinda regard litter like this. People feel the need to make a mark; that the world is to do with as they please, but just can't muster the courage to do something difficult or helpful.

What of the vibe of the house? I always suggested that there was something not quite right about the place. The Wa or whatever it is called in Feng Shui custom was off for a long time. Were there other talismen of malice hiding about the place? When we renovated the entire structure approximately 5 years later it did seem to be a lighter, happier place.

When my fathers last major home construction is dismantled or gutted for renovation, decades from now the workers will find a different kind of message. As a 10-year-old I ran around the framed place playing a treasure hunt game where we wrote on the 2x4s, 2x6s and 2x8s of the interior walls with pencil: go ten to the left and 13 to the right. If you followed the studs to this location you would find the next instruction. At the end of this you would find a joke or illustration or other treasure, like conduit slugs (kid play money). I think there may also be a hundred different places that a child's writing will say "Ruth was here," "Kristie was here," or some other name of a friend. Hopefully someone will be amused and have a better day for finding them.

I plan to do any of my best works anonymously and leave the world quietly. If I end up leaving any mark, may it not ruin someone's day.

Happy 2006

2006-01-09T22:25:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year. The blog is going slower than I planned. There is a 75th birthday coming up for my mom and we're still drowning in the Christmas regalia.

I have more posts, I will get them up soon.

More surveys. Dumb but telling...

2005-12-21T21:52:00.000-08:00

1. First Name: Ruth
2. Were you named after anyone? Yes
3. Do you wish on stars? Only the falling kind
4. When did you last cry? Don't remember. Something in eye does not count?
5. What is your favorite lunch meat? Turkey
6. Cats or Dogs? Mmm, Yummy
7. What is your birth month? September
8. What is your most embarrassing CD? The Wiggles (Okay, I have a kid!)
9. Would YOU be friends with you? No, I would fine me a little too sarcastic and competitive
10. Are you a daredevil? Occasionally
11. Favorite singer? Oh there are so many...Paul Simon, Jem, Sarah Mclachlan
12. Do looks matter? Only the kind that kill
13. How do you release anger? In short, controlled bursts of biting sarcasm
14. Where is your second home? Let's just work on the first one shall we?
15. Do you trust others easily? Sometimes
16. What was your favorite toy as a child? A car
17. What class in high school do you think was totally useless? Physics. The teacher was a cross-dressing freak that new nothing of physics.
18. Do you have a journal? Blogs, and some misc writing scattered about the planet
19. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Yes, Oh GOD, yes
20. What are your nicknames? Ru, Ruut, Ruthie, RuRu, (sarcasmo)...
21. Would you bungee jump? If pushed
22. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Not too many of my shoes tie
23. Do you think that you are strong? Yes
24. What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Frozen, not peppermint
25. Shoe Size? 7-9 depending on width
26. Red or pink? Red
27. Least favorite thing about yourself? Disease
28. Night owl or morning person? Night Owl. I do not trust morning people
29. What color pants and shoes are you wearing? Pants? Shoes? You know that you can't see me right now, right? Why would I be wearing pants and shoes?
30. What are you listening to right now? iTunes list on the server in the next room
31. Last thing you ate? Chinese food, coffee
32. If you were a color what would you be? Red
33. What is the weather like right now? Cold, snowy
34. Last person you talked to on the phone? Rob
35. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex? Presence, carriage
36. Do you like the person who sent this to you? I like what the person I stole this from has to say on their blog. I like his paintings.
37. What's your favorite refreshment?
Coffee, Top shelf Gin and Tonic with lime
38. Hair Color? Blond with highlights in any number of colors, like premature gray
39. Eye Color? Green, sometimes blue
40. Do you wear contacts? Occasionally
41. Favorite Food? Karelian Pirakka
42. Last Movie You Watched? Yours, mine and ours (old version)
43. Favorite Day of the Year? Christmas Eve
44. Scary Movies or Happy Endings? Happy endings, funny ones are better
45. Summer or Winter? Winter
46. Hugs OR Kisses? Kisses
47. What Is Your Favorite Dessert? Fruit
48. Living Arrangements? Share the family estate with family
49. What Books Are You Reading? The Politics of Truth, tech manuals, several children's books... really too many to count I can measure the books I am reading in feet.
50. What Did You Watch Last night on TV? Serenity... not on TV per se. Gilmore Girls, Daily Show
51. Favorite Smells? Snow
52. Favorite Sounds? Snow, my kid playing with my husband
53. Mimes or Clowns? Mimes but what an icky choice
54. Do you drink coffee? If so, how do you take it? Yes, liquid
55. Rolling Stones or Beatles? Stones, what are you, like 50?
56. Do you believe in Evolution or Creation? Both, believing in only one or the other implies ignorance or hubris
57. What's the furthest you've been from home? Today? I have been on the other side of the planet physically and philosophically
58. If you could go farther, where would it be? Another planet
59. Are you where you want to be? No. But it does not suck, either. I want to be soaking like a teabag in the Caribbean Sea.

Seven things

2005-12-21T21:32:00.000-08:00

7 things I plan to do before I die:
1) Fly a plane on instruments only (well)
2) Tour Nepal (at least part of Everest, too)
3) Travel in Greenland
4) Get a summer place in Finland
5) Make a foundation to help people go back to school and get unscrewed
6) Get another degree, perhaps law
7) Raise a great person

7 things I can do:
1) Play the piano
2) Understand science and technology
3) Speak a lot of languages
4) Fly a plane under visual flight rules
5) Listen
6) Build things
7) Cook

7 things I cannot do:
1) Dance
2) Remember names (numbers I do okay)
3) Look away from the keys as I type or play piano
4) Enjoy shopping
5) Bring myself to hate an entire subgroup of humans
6) Say no to hungry animals at the door (Humans either)
7) Listen to country music

7 things that attract me to another:
1) Broad shoulders
I'm also "attracted to another" if he can:
2) Make me think
3) Be kind to animals and children
4) Be consistently funny
5) Cook
6) Be creative
7) Be willing to learn

Happy Birthday

2005-12-21T21:26:00.000-08:00

So now I actually have to some up with some content. Stay tuned!