I've been trying to keep Willow busy while Jen is in the hospital. Here she is eating a piece of corn freshly picked from a corn plant in the garden at work - a plant that I planted in soil that I had a hand in creating via kitchen scraps, worms, bacteria, and other friendly decomposers. It's some of the best corn I've tasted. Willow liked it too.
She has been coming to work with me all weekend, helping me with my temporary position as site supervisor. A group of teenagers with a reputation for rowdiness rented the site from Friday evening through Sunday afternoon. I did witness a bit of rowdiness and a fair amount of loudness, but no lasting damage was done to the site. It helped that they had competent leaders watching over them. Willow ran around and looked cute, playing with hula hoops and eating chocolate. Earlier today though, she developed an imaginary friend named Steve. Unlike most imaginary friends, Steve is hopelessly trapped in an elevator somewhere. Willow misses him. I asked her if it was something she dreamed and she said yes, so I'm sure she's subconsciously processing Jen being gone. In the young, The veil between reality and dreams is so thin. That's part of what makes little kids so cool.
Jen is doing well, and is really looking forward to leaving the hospital. Sometime tomorrow, after the test that she's been waiting for, we'll know more about what's going on with her (of course, now that I've typed that there will be another delay...). Thanks to everybody who has helped out and/or left kind thoughts on Jen's blog. It's during times like this that I really feel I live in a community (even if it's a far flung one).
Earlier,as I was walking past the emergency room on my way to visit Jen, I was trying to put into words what kind of aura the hospital has, and I don't mean in some sort of new-agey mystical sort of way. As we go through life, we develop impressions of people and things based on past experience. The feeling I get from hospitals is one of stalled time, an interruption in the flow of reality. I get a distinct feeling of unreality everytime we end up there. I think of all the people in the rooms, and how their lives have been altered, their plans put on hold, their perceptions changed...
Maybe the veil between worlds is thin for all of us.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Friday, September 15, 2006
They're going to do one more test on Jen sometime today, and she should be home this afternoon. Thank you to Anonymous for your kind comment.
With mysterious ailments on my mind, I noticed this story about toxic dumping and subsequent riots in Ivory Coast. This is yet one more example of corporations assuming that they can do whatever they want to the poor. If this isn't environmental racism, it's definitely environmental classism. The poor always get the shaft, and Ivory Coast, the last time I checked, is one of the poorest countries on the planet. I'm glad they're fighting back. If I was there, I'd riot too. It's a shame though that this is pretty much the only recourse for them. It's bad enough that people without money (either individually or collectively) are treated as second class citizens, but to endure illegally dumped toxic waste is the ultimate insult.
Of course most of us are aware that this sort of thing happens all of the time in the U.S. too. Not only does our lifestyle cause problems at home, but all over the rest of the world as well. It's often more subtle (but not always) than what is happening in Ivory Coast, but you don't have to dig deeply to find a multitude of environmental insults. With that in mind, I recently discovered a reference to this man in James Bishop Jr.'s biography of Edward Abbey, Epitaph for a Desert Anarchist. He's one of my new heroes.
Anyway, we're all walking cesspools of toxins. Every time we eat and every time we breathe we're taking more of them in. I don't advocate violent revolution, but it would be great if each and every one of us spent time fixing the problem. The System is broken. The System is a sewer system. The waste never really goes "away," it just cycles its merry way back into the soil and into the air and into the water and into our bodies, forever and ever, no matter how much money somebody behind a big desk made from it.
Long live the Fox!
With mysterious ailments on my mind, I noticed this story about toxic dumping and subsequent riots in Ivory Coast. This is yet one more example of corporations assuming that they can do whatever they want to the poor. If this isn't environmental racism, it's definitely environmental classism. The poor always get the shaft, and Ivory Coast, the last time I checked, is one of the poorest countries on the planet. I'm glad they're fighting back. If I was there, I'd riot too. It's a shame though that this is pretty much the only recourse for them. It's bad enough that people without money (either individually or collectively) are treated as second class citizens, but to endure illegally dumped toxic waste is the ultimate insult.
Of course most of us are aware that this sort of thing happens all of the time in the U.S. too. Not only does our lifestyle cause problems at home, but all over the rest of the world as well. It's often more subtle (but not always) than what is happening in Ivory Coast, but you don't have to dig deeply to find a multitude of environmental insults. With that in mind, I recently discovered a reference to this man in James Bishop Jr.'s biography of Edward Abbey, Epitaph for a Desert Anarchist. He's one of my new heroes.
Anyway, we're all walking cesspools of toxins. Every time we eat and every time we breathe we're taking more of them in. I don't advocate violent revolution, but it would be great if each and every one of us spent time fixing the problem. The System is broken. The System is a sewer system. The waste never really goes "away," it just cycles its merry way back into the soil and into the air and into the water and into our bodies, forever and ever, no matter how much money somebody behind a big desk made from it.
Long live the Fox!
Thursday, September 14, 2006
Jen has been at the hospital since about 10:30 AM, and is staying overnight. Shortly after ten this morning, she started feeling dizzy. After the dizziness failed to subside, we decided to go get it checked out. They're still checking it out. Her EKG is a bit abnormal, and there has also been some talk that it might be caused by an inner ear infection, but they're still awaiting the results of some other tests. These things take time at busy county hospitals. Lots of time.
Fingers crossed that she'll be back home tomorrow.
Fingers crossed that she'll be back home tomorrow.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
Talk about people completely missing the message. Steve Irwin would have been absolutely stunned by this. Do some people actually believe that the Stingrays got together and planned his death? Even if, as I suspect, some wrongheaded individuals merely think they are protecting others from some imaginary Stingray menace, this is still ridiculous. If you really want to honor this man, go donate some time or money to a wildlife organization. Clean some oil from a seabird. Thwart some construction and save a habitat or two. Spay and neuter your pets so they don't breed and decimate local wildlife populations.
Do not, I repeat, do not, go out and "protect" people by killing animals you perceive as "dangerous!" With that kind of logic, you'd have to become a mass murderer because people have long been the most dangerous animals on the planet. Think about it.
There.
I haven't been on here as much lately because Jen has been using the computer for work. The extra income is really saving our butts. That said, I've picked up some more extra hours here and there, so things are a bit less dire for us. I'm going to be selling some records on eBay as well. I'm curious to see what how much money, if any, that brings in.
Summer has thrown another handful of hot days at us too, like a parting shot before disappearing until next year. It's early yet today, but the sky is pale blue and still. You'd never know that it's hurricane season.
Do not, I repeat, do not, go out and "protect" people by killing animals you perceive as "dangerous!" With that kind of logic, you'd have to become a mass murderer because people have long been the most dangerous animals on the planet. Think about it.
There.
I haven't been on here as much lately because Jen has been using the computer for work. The extra income is really saving our butts. That said, I've picked up some more extra hours here and there, so things are a bit less dire for us. I'm going to be selling some records on eBay as well. I'm curious to see what how much money, if any, that brings in.
Summer has thrown another handful of hot days at us too, like a parting shot before disappearing until next year. It's early yet today, but the sky is pale blue and still. You'd never know that it's hurricane season.
Monday, September 11, 2006
So it's been five years since the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. Five years since the re-crowning 0f the Empire State Building as the tallest building in New York, like how tall or how big something is really matters (unfortunately for a large number of people it does - yeah, I'm talking to you, Hummer drivers!). Less has changed than we thought it would in those first few hours after the attacks. A whole new generation of conspiracy theories were born. Who knows? - maybe some of them are true. Our government certainly has come up with a series of whopping lies since then, using the events of that one day to justify a whole slew of actions. More people have died, and continue to die, as a result of this than did in the original attack.
Symbols and grand ideals continue to rule the airwaves. Human beings continue to die. People continue to hate. Everytime somebody dies, somebody somewhere hates a little more. It's twisting us all into little knots so tightly tugged that they're just going to remain tied until doomsday.
None of this is new other than the fact that we keep becoming more efficient at killing. I came across an old bumper sticker in a drawer the other day that reads, "efficiency = death." Boy does it ever, in so many ways...
I know that there are decent people out there. Millions of them, I'm sure. It's just that there voices are lost under all of the blustering and inane babble of the puppets with their prepared speeches.
The world has grown too small. Everything happens too fast. We're running out of space to escape to when the walls close in. We are billions, and so many of us are all alone
The more of us there are on this planet, the less human each individual becomes. It's as if we've passed the carrying capacity of caring. I really do feel that it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets any better.
Being vulnerable like only a parent can be, that makes me really sad.
Bastards! I leave you with a couple of quotes from Edward Abbey, who died fifteen years before the attacks, but whose words live on:
Men love their ideas more than their lives. And the more preposterous the idea, the more eager they are to die for it. And to kill for it.
and
Society is like a stew. If you don't keep it stirred up, you get a lot of scum on top.
Symbols and grand ideals continue to rule the airwaves. Human beings continue to die. People continue to hate. Everytime somebody dies, somebody somewhere hates a little more. It's twisting us all into little knots so tightly tugged that they're just going to remain tied until doomsday.
None of this is new other than the fact that we keep becoming more efficient at killing. I came across an old bumper sticker in a drawer the other day that reads, "efficiency = death." Boy does it ever, in so many ways...
I know that there are decent people out there. Millions of them, I'm sure. It's just that there voices are lost under all of the blustering and inane babble of the puppets with their prepared speeches.
The world has grown too small. Everything happens too fast. We're running out of space to escape to when the walls close in. We are billions, and so many of us are all alone
The more of us there are on this planet, the less human each individual becomes. It's as if we've passed the carrying capacity of caring. I really do feel that it's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets any better.
Being vulnerable like only a parent can be, that makes me really sad.
Bastards! I leave you with a couple of quotes from Edward Abbey, who died fifteen years before the attacks, but whose words live on:
Men love their ideas more than their lives. And the more preposterous the idea, the more eager they are to die for it. And to kill for it.
and
Society is like a stew. If you don't keep it stirred up, you get a lot of scum on top.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Labor Day is behind us but summer seems to linger. After a week of maintainence work, I'm now in the middle of inservice week - setting up for outdoor school and attending meetings that range in subjects from teaching strategies to pandemic awareness. Something like a major outbreak of West Nile Virus or Bird Flu could wreak havoc on us. Not to mention bedbugs or headlice. I think if something really nasty makes itself known, I'm staying home. Of course, I may be staying home a lot this month anyway due to my continuing lack of "permanent" status. I'm still not sure how much of the rest of September I'll be working. This is stressful. It's bad enough not having benefits, but the lack of guaranteed work makes matters worse. Lets see how the next (possibly as early as later this month) hiring for a permanent position goes. There are still people ahead of me in line (meaning that they've been there longer) though.
Money stress aside, things are going okay. The boys are now avid bike riders. Sophie is still an avid tantrum thrower. Willow is still eating things frozen when they ought to be cooked. Jen is hard at work with her writing jobs, and I went and started a new blog focusing on music reviews. Check it out here. There's not much there yet, but I plan on adding to it regularly.
Money stress aside, things are going okay. The boys are now avid bike riders. Sophie is still an avid tantrum thrower. Willow is still eating things frozen when they ought to be cooked. Jen is hard at work with her writing jobs, and I went and started a new blog focusing on music reviews. Check it out here. There's not much there yet, but I plan on adding to it regularly.
Monday, September 04, 2006
Flickering Tongue
It is really a shock to read about the death of Steve Irwin, The Crocodile Hunter. He is survived by his wife, Terri, and their two children, Bindi Sue, 8, and Bob, 3 in December. It seemed to me that he led a charmed life, deftly handling creatures that most people would run from and never sustaining serious injuries. Until now, of course - I've only just read the article up on Yahoo, but it seems a Stingray stung him in the heart.
I've often joked that he had my dream job. His passion for his work and his skill at handling dangerous animals has always impressed me, not to mention his commitment to saving wildlife and wilderness. I'll bet he was a bit of an adrenalin junkie though. There is something exciting about getting close to dangerous animals, especially when it's only your skill keeping you safe. I don't take chances like he did, but I'll admit that it's always a thrill coming across our local venomous reptile, the Western Rattlesnake. I even took Jen and the kids up to see the one pictured here (we also spotted a Yellowjacket nest and some Mountain Lion scat) on Thursday after work. It has now been in the same place for over two months, under a piece of corrugated metal siding stuck in the dirt, and in a perfect place for safe viewing. The thrill is still there though, despite the fact that I see the same snake on nearly a weekly basis. Willow at least was pretty excited about it and has been telling everybody that she saw it. It makes me think of Steve Irwin's kids. The excitement is gone for them, and the enormity of the tragedy is no doubt still sinking in. My heart goes out to them.
R.I.P. Steve Irwin.
I've often joked that he had my dream job. His passion for his work and his skill at handling dangerous animals has always impressed me, not to mention his commitment to saving wildlife and wilderness. I'll bet he was a bit of an adrenalin junkie though. There is something exciting about getting close to dangerous animals, especially when it's only your skill keeping you safe. I don't take chances like he did, but I'll admit that it's always a thrill coming across our local venomous reptile, the Western Rattlesnake. I even took Jen and the kids up to see the one pictured here (we also spotted a Yellowjacket nest and some Mountain Lion scat) on Thursday after work. It has now been in the same place for over two months, under a piece of corrugated metal siding stuck in the dirt, and in a perfect place for safe viewing. The thrill is still there though, despite the fact that I see the same snake on nearly a weekly basis. Willow at least was pretty excited about it and has been telling everybody that she saw it. It makes me think of Steve Irwin's kids. The excitement is gone for them, and the enormity of the tragedy is no doubt still sinking in. My heart goes out to them.
R.I.P. Steve Irwin.
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Above the Valley
Everybody is back in school now. Sophie now goes to the same school as the boys, but starts her day later than they do. Willow started preschool and seems to like it. She definitely doesn't have a problem with Jen and I leaving when we drop her off. We've both been dropping her off (with Sophie along for the ride as well) because my car is still dead in the driveway and I start work around the corner from Willow's school (although Jen will tell you that my definition of "around the corner" differs from hers).
We hope to get my car fixed next weekend. Public transportation around here sucks, and the road I would have to take were I to bike to work has been the scene of many cyclist fatalities over the years.
The picture of Nate was taken in the nearby hills. We've been trying to engage in more one-on-one time with the kids, especially the boys since Willow gets a lot already and Jen gets time with Sophie due to school schedules. I took Nate on a hike looking for tarantulas, but tarantula season doesn't start in earnest for another month, so we didn't find any. We had a great time anyway. Here he can be seen looking out over the valley, which only looks good from a distance. The hills smell a lot better too, and we both came home smelling of them.
I got some unexpected and much needed extra work this past week in the form of random maintainence work at the school. They've broken ground and are in the process of digging various trenches and shoving vast quantities of dirt around the site, so our various painting and mending jobs were done to the tune of beeping and clunking of heavy construction equipment. It's a shame they ripped out the blackberry bushes to put in a sewer pipe though.
Our last task yesterday was to unbolt or saw off everything connecting the large banana slug-visaged water tanks to the ground in preparation for their removal. The site is going to look barren without them.
Willow has just wandered in and needs attention. Bye.
We hope to get my car fixed next weekend. Public transportation around here sucks, and the road I would have to take were I to bike to work has been the scene of many cyclist fatalities over the years.
The picture of Nate was taken in the nearby hills. We've been trying to engage in more one-on-one time with the kids, especially the boys since Willow gets a lot already and Jen gets time with Sophie due to school schedules. I took Nate on a hike looking for tarantulas, but tarantula season doesn't start in earnest for another month, so we didn't find any. We had a great time anyway. Here he can be seen looking out over the valley, which only looks good from a distance. The hills smell a lot better too, and we both came home smelling of them.
I got some unexpected and much needed extra work this past week in the form of random maintainence work at the school. They've broken ground and are in the process of digging various trenches and shoving vast quantities of dirt around the site, so our various painting and mending jobs were done to the tune of beeping and clunking of heavy construction equipment. It's a shame they ripped out the blackberry bushes to put in a sewer pipe though.
Our last task yesterday was to unbolt or saw off everything connecting the large banana slug-visaged water tanks to the ground in preparation for their removal. The site is going to look barren without them.
Willow has just wandered in and needs attention. Bye.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Walking into the kitchen earlier and smelling smoke, I noticed that something cooking in the microwave still had 76 minutes left to cook. Taking it out, I discovered a blackened hash brown on a partially melted plastic plate.
Willow. The one time she decides to not eat a hash brown frozen (her usual preference) I'm out of the room.
Later, after I've made everybody sit in the backyard for a bit to avoid breathing in the smoke, the fan I've put on the table to clear the air vibrates off the edge and breaks on the floor.
Now we're out one plastic plate and one fan, all because, as Sophie put it, "Willow made a black hash brown!"
Willow. The one time she decides to not eat a hash brown frozen (her usual preference) I'm out of the room.
Later, after I've made everybody sit in the backyard for a bit to avoid breathing in the smoke, the fan I've put on the table to clear the air vibrates off the edge and breaks on the floor.
Now we're out one plastic plate and one fan, all because, as Sophie put it, "Willow made a black hash brown!"
Now that my car is back in our driveway (still not fixed), I can divulge the contents of my scrapbook page (refer to a couple of posts ago for the story behind it). This is an undated, handwritten remembrance of childhood, which would have been lost forever in a landfill if not for the dumpster diving of Chicken John.
California and Lake Stevens
The earliest memories of my life are so vague that I sometimes think they have been imagined after I'd been told about it. One is being very very sick and being carried off the train by Daddy. Another, playing with a little boy in a wagon "Logo" & a little girl in California. There was an orange tree too that I remember.
Then Lake Stevens. Robert and Betty. I used to go early & get breakfast over at Betty's with her sometimes. We used to catch grasshoppers in the long grass in front of her house and name them. We rowed in the boat and swam. We used to play games but they would run away and make me "it" because I was littlest & would cry.
There was little William Stack Bridge & Mr. Hally's dogs. And the cabin in the woods of Jasper & Bob that was the delight of our soul. On the way to the cabin there was a huge burnt stump grown over with "twin flowers." There was our mail box hidden in the rafters of the wood shed & in Larson's big wood pile. There was Anna Drew and paper dolls "Dolly Dingle" paper dolls & our throne in the woods & raspberry stalks to chew, and old Captain Larson's and the Allens. My first bycicle (sic) and the fall when Jasper & I were riding in the freshness of the early morning. School - going to school when dew covered (illegible) were along the fence - beautiful.
There were excursions to Big 4 or "Camp Glacier". There were visits to the big house in Everett elaborate meals prepared by the (illegible) & games with Uncle Jasper and ice cream at the store. Occasionally snow - the deep snow. Jumping out of the wood shed window. Snowshoes made of planer ends. Mother's pink satin dress and my chopped finger. Miss Copps. Admiring little boys. flowers on my desk. Daddy away. Ice on the lake - the mill burned down. Mr. Ecklund petting me - taking me home in his car. Little Clare Groger. Bertha and William. Fab old "Dimples". The swing - "Isn't she cute" and my anger. Rides with Dr. Allen. Dr. Harris in Arlington. The episode of the fruit from Allen's Aunt Margaret. The Stock Bridge farm - the Stockbridges & Round-a Roadles!
There you have it. I love reading about childhood, especially when video games and TV are not mentioned. I like the stream of consciousness feel to this as well. Back in those days, kids played outside and were no doubt more actively engaged in the world around them than many kids are today. It's sad to think that many of the current generation will grow up to find that they don't really remember much of their childhoods because of the time they spent having virtual experiences rather than real ones. The video games and TV shows just don't stick in our heads like actual life does.
Of course, as I type, I can hear the kids watching a movie in the other room. Guilty! Bee leaving bonnet now...
Speaking of kids, Willow is having an "opposite" day today. She stood on the toilet and later peed on the walkway.
California and Lake Stevens
The earliest memories of my life are so vague that I sometimes think they have been imagined after I'd been told about it. One is being very very sick and being carried off the train by Daddy. Another, playing with a little boy in a wagon "Logo" & a little girl in California. There was an orange tree too that I remember.
Then Lake Stevens. Robert and Betty. I used to go early & get breakfast over at Betty's with her sometimes. We used to catch grasshoppers in the long grass in front of her house and name them. We rowed in the boat and swam. We used to play games but they would run away and make me "it" because I was littlest & would cry.
There was little William Stack Bridge & Mr. Hally's dogs. And the cabin in the woods of Jasper & Bob that was the delight of our soul. On the way to the cabin there was a huge burnt stump grown over with "twin flowers." There was our mail box hidden in the rafters of the wood shed & in Larson's big wood pile. There was Anna Drew and paper dolls "Dolly Dingle" paper dolls & our throne in the woods & raspberry stalks to chew, and old Captain Larson's and the Allens. My first bycicle (sic) and the fall when Jasper & I were riding in the freshness of the early morning. School - going to school when dew covered (illegible) were along the fence - beautiful.
There were excursions to Big 4 or "Camp Glacier". There were visits to the big house in Everett elaborate meals prepared by the (illegible) & games with Uncle Jasper and ice cream at the store. Occasionally snow - the deep snow. Jumping out of the wood shed window. Snowshoes made of planer ends. Mother's pink satin dress and my chopped finger. Miss Copps. Admiring little boys. flowers on my desk. Daddy away. Ice on the lake - the mill burned down. Mr. Ecklund petting me - taking me home in his car. Little Clare Groger. Bertha and William. Fab old "Dimples". The swing - "Isn't she cute" and my anger. Rides with Dr. Allen. Dr. Harris in Arlington. The episode of the fruit from Allen's Aunt Margaret. The Stock Bridge farm - the Stockbridges & Round-a Roadles!
There you have it. I love reading about childhood, especially when video games and TV are not mentioned. I like the stream of consciousness feel to this as well. Back in those days, kids played outside and were no doubt more actively engaged in the world around them than many kids are today. It's sad to think that many of the current generation will grow up to find that they don't really remember much of their childhoods because of the time they spent having virtual experiences rather than real ones. The video games and TV shows just don't stick in our heads like actual life does.
Of course, as I type, I can hear the kids watching a movie in the other room. Guilty! Bee leaving bonnet now...
Speaking of kids, Willow is having an "opposite" day today. She stood on the toilet and later peed on the walkway.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Blue Light
I'm glad I already had a ticket for the Silver Mt. Zion and Carla Bozulich show at the Great American Music Hall last night, or I probably wouldn't have gone because: A) it was sold out, and B), I would have felt irresponsible spending money on fun since there are all sorts of things we need, as opposed to want.
As it was, it was an excellent show. On the way to the venue I saw a guy, in lieu of the usual sort of hip hop medallion, wearing a genuine school clock on a chain around his neck - you know, the big, clunky 12" diameter ones. It made me laugh out loud.
Carla Bozulich started things out singing and sometimes playing guitar with keyboard, cello, and drums, in addition to another guitarist, accompanying her. The first few songs were decent, including one I overheard somebody saying was a Low cover (must be on one of their cds I don't own). Then, the keyboardist started a funereal organ dirge, sounding for all the world like Paul Chain, and Carla got some tall guy (audience member? co-conspiritor?) to carry her down off the stage, and then proceeded to sing the remainder of the song while making her way through the audience. After regaining the stage and finishing the song, the band was joined by Bonfire Madigan for the title track from the new cd, Evangelista.
Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band was up next, and put on a stunning show. Their instrumentation consisted of two guitarists (sometimes three, when the drummer switched instruments), drums, upright bass, cello, and two violinists. The vocals, often thin and wavering, are a bit of an acquired taste, but one I've acquired. Everybody else sang backing vocals (hence the "Tra-La-La part of their name) to much better effect than can be heard on their studio recordings. They even did a couple of new songs, "a million people died to make this sound," and "Blind, blind, blind," which took up about a half hour of their stage time since most of their songs clock in at about fifteen minutes. They played for nearly two hours, with the sound ebbing and flowing from delicate violin plucks to full bore assault on the eardrums and back again.
This morning, of course, was the only morning this week that I had to go to work. Work consisted of going to the Office of Education all-staff inservice at The Flint Center in Cupertino. Our school was nominated for an award for our astronomy program, but we didn't win. Oh, well. At least the keynote speaker was energetic and amusing, punctuating his powerpoint presentation with cartoons hilariously relevent to the room full of educators and support staff.
Jen's out getting the girls haircuts right now. The boys got theirs earlier today. Tomorrow the three bigger kids go to school. Summer is gone.
As it was, it was an excellent show. On the way to the venue I saw a guy, in lieu of the usual sort of hip hop medallion, wearing a genuine school clock on a chain around his neck - you know, the big, clunky 12" diameter ones. It made me laugh out loud.
Carla Bozulich started things out singing and sometimes playing guitar with keyboard, cello, and drums, in addition to another guitarist, accompanying her. The first few songs were decent, including one I overheard somebody saying was a Low cover (must be on one of their cds I don't own). Then, the keyboardist started a funereal organ dirge, sounding for all the world like Paul Chain, and Carla got some tall guy (audience member? co-conspiritor?) to carry her down off the stage, and then proceeded to sing the remainder of the song while making her way through the audience. After regaining the stage and finishing the song, the band was joined by Bonfire Madigan for the title track from the new cd, Evangelista.
Thee Silver Mt. Zion Memorial Orchestra and Tra-La-La Band was up next, and put on a stunning show. Their instrumentation consisted of two guitarists (sometimes three, when the drummer switched instruments), drums, upright bass, cello, and two violinists. The vocals, often thin and wavering, are a bit of an acquired taste, but one I've acquired. Everybody else sang backing vocals (hence the "Tra-La-La part of their name) to much better effect than can be heard on their studio recordings. They even did a couple of new songs, "a million people died to make this sound," and "Blind, blind, blind," which took up about a half hour of their stage time since most of their songs clock in at about fifteen minutes. They played for nearly two hours, with the sound ebbing and flowing from delicate violin plucks to full bore assault on the eardrums and back again.
This morning, of course, was the only morning this week that I had to go to work. Work consisted of going to the Office of Education all-staff inservice at The Flint Center in Cupertino. Our school was nominated for an award for our astronomy program, but we didn't win. Oh, well. At least the keynote speaker was energetic and amusing, punctuating his powerpoint presentation with cartoons hilariously relevent to the room full of educators and support staff.
Jen's out getting the girls haircuts right now. The boys got theirs earlier today. Tomorrow the three bigger kids go to school. Summer is gone.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
Faun Fables at 12 Galaxies, 8/18/06
For the first time in quite awhile I managed to see two different shows in one night. On Friday, Matt and I went up to San Francisco to catch an early Kristin Hersh show at the Makeout Room (Greg met us there and managed to get us on the quest list, which in times of low funds is much appreciated). She rasped out a bunch of old favorites, including a couple of traditional songs, in the form of "The Cuckoo" and "Wayfaring Stranger," as well. Only one new song was performed. As she always does, she told funny little stories in between songs. Of special interest was the fact that she has just returned from Iceland, because after we left this show we walked around the corner to 12 Galaxies to see Faun Fables, who are leaving for Iceland on Monday.
At 12 Galaxies, Loop!station opened the show with Cello and voice, both looped and layered so that it sounded like several cellists and several vocalists were performing at once. Very nice. If I'd had the money, I would have bought their three cds like Matt did.
After Loopstation, we were treated to a recital of a T.S. Eliot poem, which was accompanied by a performance by a trapeze artist. The whole show, MCed by the versatile Chicken John (once a member of G.G. Allen's band) was billed as a memorial for someone named Margaret Rucker. She turned out to be present in the form of a tattered scrapbook that Chicken John had pulled from a dumpster fifteen years ago. It seems that the scrapbook, along with Margaret Rucker's other possessions, had been unceremoniously disposed of, and would have disappeared forever into a landfill if not for the fact that Chicken John, for reasons unrevealed to us, roots through dumpsters. He even went so far as to prepare a short powerpoint presentation covering the highlights of the scrapbook clippings. Mrs. Rucker was revealed to be a poet, survivor of a nasty accident, and later on the widow of a suicide. At the end of the presentation, the scrapbook was passed around and audience members were encouraged to take pieces of it home. Margaret Rucker has literally been rescued from the dustbin of history.
After this, Baby Dee appeared dressed as a bee and riding an old iron tricycle. She ascended the candlelit stairs to the stage and started out with a couple of Tiger Lillies-esque songs on the accordian before settling down behind her harp. She included her version of Idemaea, as heard on the latest Current 93 cd.
Faun Fables this time around featured, in addition to Dawn and Nils, Ari Fellows-Mannion (Loretta Lynch), Camilla Lincoln (Whoreshoes) on backing vocals, and upright bassists Jason Walker (Mandrake). The sang beautiful new songs, including a Scottish folk song about fishermen, and a few old songs, which were bolstered by the upright bass and backing vocals. In the picture, you can see the clueless guy who insisted on standing at the front even though the five or six rows behind him were all seated, ignoring the shouted chorus of "down in front!" from behind him. He finally sat down when the guy sitting directly behind him bought him a beer. He got rewarded for being a jerk, but at least he sat down.
I ended up driving back by myself because Matt was going home with Dawn and Nils. I was a bit stressed out due to the fact that, before the shows, while we were looking for parking, my battery light blinked on a few times. I contemplated asking Matt if I could borrow his cellphone, but elected not to. I got on the freeway and made it about fifteen or twenty miles before my lights dimmed and the car threatened to stall. Taking the nearest exit, I managed to find a 24 hour gas station before the car died. Then it was a comedy of getting piles of quarters from the attendant and calling from a payphone. AAA proved useless since I only get five miles of free towing and I was thirty miles from home (after the five free miles, the price jumps up to ten dollars a mile - you do the math). Jen's insurance wouldn't help because it doesn't cover my car. Finally, I called Jen and she had to drive up and rescue me, leaving my car behind. As of now, after being ripped of eight ways to Sunday by the service crew at the gas station, we've elected to not have them put in an alternator (the diagnostic fee, new battery, and radiator hose cost more than double what they should have) and waiting until we have the funds to purchase one and install it ourselves. In the meantime, we're going to try and get by with one vehicle. Wish us luck.
Funny sidenote: They mechanic called while I was out doing parties yesterday and got Jen on the phone. As mechanics often do, he assumed that since she's a woman she would know next to nothing about cars, only becoming nice once she proved him wrong. Why is it that auto service places only treat you fairly if they think there's a possibility of you being a repeat customer and/or if you exhibit some knowledge of car repair? Because they're assholes, that's why. Anyway, we're gritting our teeth, forking over too much money, picking up the car tomorrow, and driving it home with a good battery and bad alternator. It will sit in the driveway for awhile.
To top it all off, I lost half the tip money from the parties I did yesterday. It probably fell out of my overstuffed poickets when I went to retrieve something. Shit.
We ended the day on a good note though, going up to a friend's birthday party in Redwood city. Despite being tired, Willow, Jen, and I had a great time socializing, listening to the live music (a latin jazz band), eating the middle eastern food and wonderful exotic cheeses, and basically just unwinding.
Oh, and summer camp is over too. We watched the last bus go down the hill on Friday. I'm off work most of next week, so it's time to do some Autumn cleaning around here. That's the plan anyway.
At 12 Galaxies, Loop!station opened the show with Cello and voice, both looped and layered so that it sounded like several cellists and several vocalists were performing at once. Very nice. If I'd had the money, I would have bought their three cds like Matt did.
After Loopstation, we were treated to a recital of a T.S. Eliot poem, which was accompanied by a performance by a trapeze artist. The whole show, MCed by the versatile Chicken John (once a member of G.G. Allen's band) was billed as a memorial for someone named Margaret Rucker. She turned out to be present in the form of a tattered scrapbook that Chicken John had pulled from a dumpster fifteen years ago. It seems that the scrapbook, along with Margaret Rucker's other possessions, had been unceremoniously disposed of, and would have disappeared forever into a landfill if not for the fact that Chicken John, for reasons unrevealed to us, roots through dumpsters. He even went so far as to prepare a short powerpoint presentation covering the highlights of the scrapbook clippings. Mrs. Rucker was revealed to be a poet, survivor of a nasty accident, and later on the widow of a suicide. At the end of the presentation, the scrapbook was passed around and audience members were encouraged to take pieces of it home. Margaret Rucker has literally been rescued from the dustbin of history.
After this, Baby Dee appeared dressed as a bee and riding an old iron tricycle. She ascended the candlelit stairs to the stage and started out with a couple of Tiger Lillies-esque songs on the accordian before settling down behind her harp. She included her version of Idemaea, as heard on the latest Current 93 cd.
Faun Fables this time around featured, in addition to Dawn and Nils, Ari Fellows-Mannion (Loretta Lynch), Camilla Lincoln (Whoreshoes) on backing vocals, and upright bassists Jason Walker (Mandrake). The sang beautiful new songs, including a Scottish folk song about fishermen, and a few old songs, which were bolstered by the upright bass and backing vocals. In the picture, you can see the clueless guy who insisted on standing at the front even though the five or six rows behind him were all seated, ignoring the shouted chorus of "down in front!" from behind him. He finally sat down when the guy sitting directly behind him bought him a beer. He got rewarded for being a jerk, but at least he sat down.
I ended up driving back by myself because Matt was going home with Dawn and Nils. I was a bit stressed out due to the fact that, before the shows, while we were looking for parking, my battery light blinked on a few times. I contemplated asking Matt if I could borrow his cellphone, but elected not to. I got on the freeway and made it about fifteen or twenty miles before my lights dimmed and the car threatened to stall. Taking the nearest exit, I managed to find a 24 hour gas station before the car died. Then it was a comedy of getting piles of quarters from the attendant and calling from a payphone. AAA proved useless since I only get five miles of free towing and I was thirty miles from home (after the five free miles, the price jumps up to ten dollars a mile - you do the math). Jen's insurance wouldn't help because it doesn't cover my car. Finally, I called Jen and she had to drive up and rescue me, leaving my car behind. As of now, after being ripped of eight ways to Sunday by the service crew at the gas station, we've elected to not have them put in an alternator (the diagnostic fee, new battery, and radiator hose cost more than double what they should have) and waiting until we have the funds to purchase one and install it ourselves. In the meantime, we're going to try and get by with one vehicle. Wish us luck.
Funny sidenote: They mechanic called while I was out doing parties yesterday and got Jen on the phone. As mechanics often do, he assumed that since she's a woman she would know next to nothing about cars, only becoming nice once she proved him wrong. Why is it that auto service places only treat you fairly if they think there's a possibility of you being a repeat customer and/or if you exhibit some knowledge of car repair? Because they're assholes, that's why. Anyway, we're gritting our teeth, forking over too much money, picking up the car tomorrow, and driving it home with a good battery and bad alternator. It will sit in the driveway for awhile.
To top it all off, I lost half the tip money from the parties I did yesterday. It probably fell out of my overstuffed poickets when I went to retrieve something. Shit.
We ended the day on a good note though, going up to a friend's birthday party in Redwood city. Despite being tired, Willow, Jen, and I had a great time socializing, listening to the live music (a latin jazz band), eating the middle eastern food and wonderful exotic cheeses, and basically just unwinding.
Oh, and summer camp is over too. We watched the last bus go down the hill on Friday. I'm off work most of next week, so it's time to do some Autumn cleaning around here. That's the plan anyway.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Quiet Contemplation
The beach does indeed put us all in a better mood. The steady pulse of the surf punctuated by the calls of seagulls provides a serene backdrop that our cluttered house can never match. The girls spent time taking their chances on the fringes of the surf, screaming and running from the sheets of foamy water rushing towards them. Jen and the boys stayed further from the water this time, hanging out on a beach blanket. Willow and I went tidepooling, finding a bunch of mussels and a few small anemones. Ascending darkness coupled with falling temperatures ended our stay.
I hadn't been to Natural Bridges since I was a kid. I remembered there being two wave weathered rock bridges then. Now there is only one, the more fragile of the two having fallen sometime during the late eighties or early nineties (I think). Perhaps it should now be referred to as Natural Bridge.
We're gearing up for Autumn here. Jen has turned her attention towards getting school supplies for the kids. Summer camp ends this Friday, to be replaced by outdoor school in a couple of weeks. As usual, I'm looking for ways to plug the gaps in my work schedule. I'll miss the summer camp kids. Many of them have been with us for multiple weeks. A lot of them I remember from last year. There's a real feeling of community at camp. I'm sure a lot of them will be camp counselors in a few years. Perhaps they'll be staff someday. This kind of environment is really good for kids if they're open to it.
I do have moments when I think it's kind of funny that I'm leading team building activities for these kids. When I was young I was not a team player. I still don't really see myself that way. I have always been a bit of a loner with an anti-authoritarian bent. Maybe it's my job to help the kids who also feel this way. The socialization process can be so complex for kids who are told that they must be part of a team when their personalities run counter to this kind of thinking. It is good to have teamwork skills, of course, but I can definitely relate to people who have no use for them...
But I ramble...
I hadn't been to Natural Bridges since I was a kid. I remembered there being two wave weathered rock bridges then. Now there is only one, the more fragile of the two having fallen sometime during the late eighties or early nineties (I think). Perhaps it should now be referred to as Natural Bridge.
We're gearing up for Autumn here. Jen has turned her attention towards getting school supplies for the kids. Summer camp ends this Friday, to be replaced by outdoor school in a couple of weeks. As usual, I'm looking for ways to plug the gaps in my work schedule. I'll miss the summer camp kids. Many of them have been with us for multiple weeks. A lot of them I remember from last year. There's a real feeling of community at camp. I'm sure a lot of them will be camp counselors in a few years. Perhaps they'll be staff someday. This kind of environment is really good for kids if they're open to it.
I do have moments when I think it's kind of funny that I'm leading team building activities for these kids. When I was young I was not a team player. I still don't really see myself that way. I have always been a bit of a loner with an anti-authoritarian bent. Maybe it's my job to help the kids who also feel this way. The socialization process can be so complex for kids who are told that they must be part of a team when their personalities run counter to this kind of thinking. It is good to have teamwork skills, of course, but I can definitely relate to people who have no use for them...
But I ramble...
Sunday, August 13, 2006
Looking Out
Greg has done a few Neighborhood Public Radio shifts before, but Saturday marked the first time that all three of us (Greg, Matt, and I, operating under the Oneiromantic Ambiguity Collective moniker) have gotten together to do a broadcast together. Sometime before the event, Greg, using sound culled from past improvisations, put together a backing track for us to read over, and read over it we did, with varying degrees of success, to a theoretical internet audience, a possible radio audience, and a nonplussed live audience consisting of pedestrians (and one small pig, trailing a leash) strolling past outside the old movie ticket booth temporarily serving as the radio station. Check out the NPR website here.
The stories we read (two each), were old, dating back to the mid to late nineties. When trying to decide what to read, I noticed that most of the stories I considered were all from the middle of our most productive period of writing. I don't care for the early ones, and in my opinion the more recent ones are lacking something as well. The whole experience made me want to go back to writing fiction. It's been awhile, and I think my writing style has changed a bit thanks in part to this blog. Only one way to find out, of course...
Looking at the newspaper coverage of the latest averted terrorist attack makes me think that reality is still managing to compete quite well with fiction in terms of excitement and ironic humor (lets not forget utter stupidity, insanity, and tragedy - they're always very much in evidence too). Some might say that the terrorists have scored a minor victory here because at the moment it is against the law to bring a Christian bible on board a commercial airplane. Of course the Koran is equally against the rules, as are all books and just about everything else. Don't want anybody to receive a papercut, do we?. I wonder if you can get a bigger papercut from the Bible or the Koran? I wouldn't know. I do plan to read both someday, just to see what the fuss is about, but at the moment neither of them grace the bedside table. I just wish that people would stop using these books (both of them) to justify all of the killing and hatred. It's making the rest of the Christians and Muslims look bad.
The stories we read (two each), were old, dating back to the mid to late nineties. When trying to decide what to read, I noticed that most of the stories I considered were all from the middle of our most productive period of writing. I don't care for the early ones, and in my opinion the more recent ones are lacking something as well. The whole experience made me want to go back to writing fiction. It's been awhile, and I think my writing style has changed a bit thanks in part to this blog. Only one way to find out, of course...
Looking at the newspaper coverage of the latest averted terrorist attack makes me think that reality is still managing to compete quite well with fiction in terms of excitement and ironic humor (lets not forget utter stupidity, insanity, and tragedy - they're always very much in evidence too). Some might say that the terrorists have scored a minor victory here because at the moment it is against the law to bring a Christian bible on board a commercial airplane. Of course the Koran is equally against the rules, as are all books and just about everything else. Don't want anybody to receive a papercut, do we?. I wonder if you can get a bigger papercut from the Bible or the Koran? I wouldn't know. I do plan to read both someday, just to see what the fuss is about, but at the moment neither of them grace the bedside table. I just wish that people would stop using these books (both of them) to justify all of the killing and hatred. It's making the rest of the Christians and Muslims look bad.
Friday, August 11, 2006
The Day Is Done
Here's a shot of cars leaving the lower field at work after the wholesome family barbeque/campfire program that happens every Thursday, during which decidedly uhwholesome raffle prizes are given away. This week's prizes included a six foot fake tree with a doll stuck to the top of it (Julia Butterfly was referenced) and a talking E.T. doll.
As usual, after the dust from the leaving vehicles settled, we took the campers on a night hike. The moon was bright enough that I had to shield my eyes when coming out from under the trees. My group this week consisted mostly of seven year olds, with a trio of younger kids and a couple who were older. A lot of them wanted their mommies when faced with the darkness of the forest, but they all made it through in the end. They were all in bed by eleven, only to be awakened at five in the morning when the sprinklers unexpectedly came on, drenching many of the sleepers. I slept through it somehow, unmoistened. My coworkers managed to avert disaster by fumbling around in the dark and disabling the sprinkler controls. I don't regret being a heavy sleeper in this instance.
Next week is the last week of summer camp. More hideous raffle prizes await.
As usual, after the dust from the leaving vehicles settled, we took the campers on a night hike. The moon was bright enough that I had to shield my eyes when coming out from under the trees. My group this week consisted mostly of seven year olds, with a trio of younger kids and a couple who were older. A lot of them wanted their mommies when faced with the darkness of the forest, but they all made it through in the end. They were all in bed by eleven, only to be awakened at five in the morning when the sprinklers unexpectedly came on, drenching many of the sleepers. I slept through it somehow, unmoistened. My coworkers managed to avert disaster by fumbling around in the dark and disabling the sprinkler controls. I don't regret being a heavy sleeper in this instance.
Next week is the last week of summer camp. More hideous raffle prizes await.
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
One of the campers this week, a seven year old girl, just told me, "my daddy just went to war." Being israeli, she was talking about the current conflict between Israel and Lebanon. World events just sweep people along, sometimes pulling them apart and taking them away. I hope her dad makes it through, and it's sad thinking that he might not. It's sad thinking about the countless of other little kids who have said the same thing over the years. It doesn't matter which side of the conflict you're on, or which conflict it is - the loss of life is unacceptable.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
Snake Bracelet
A local journalist and photographer stopped by camp today to do a story on the lodge construction project. Apparently they'd been informed that all of our buildings had been demolished and that we were running a camp in the rubble. When this turned out not to be true, they attached themselves to me for awhile. First, the photographer took lots of pictures of the cockroach cuddling activity I was leading (okay, we weren't really cuddling them - we were holding hissing cockroaches) and then they accompanied the large group I was leading down to the pond. On the way, I almost stepped on a Gopher snake sitting in the middle of the trail. I picked it up and was instantly mobbed by twenty or so kids who wanted to touch it. Since it was newly caught and not happy, I didn't let them. Despite the fact that it didn't want to pose, the photographer and I both took pictures of it before letting it slide back into the grass. When we finally made it to the pond, we continued the perpetual task of scooping out duckweed and Bullfrog tadpoles. More photographs were taken. I'm interested in seeing the article that comes out of all this. If it ends up being online somewhere, I'll link to it.
Monday, August 07, 2006
Where The Main Office Used To Be
This is the sight that greets me at work in the morning. At the beginning of last week this view was obstructed by the main office. Today it's an unsightly dirt lot. At some undetermined point in the future it will be the site of the new lodge.
As one can see, it was cloudy today, with temperatures below normal. I approve.
This photo was taken with a new camera. We took the old Nikon in to get it repaired this weekend. The guy behind the counter took one look at it and asked, "have you considered getting a new camera?" It turned out that for ten dollars above the cost of getting the camera repaired, we could buy a new, much better (twice the megapixels) one. It sure is nice to take pictures that don't have flaws caused by a dirty lens. It's also nice to have a camera that doesn't flash the "lens error" message whenever it's turned on. Simple pleasures...
With our new cameras in tow, we took Willow to the county fair this weekend. Matt came along as well, so Willow had three adults to boss around. She loved the pony ride and the merry-go-round, but was much less certain about the petting zoo. The goats and sheep, animals of satan that they are, scared her. She was even a bit uncertain about the rat-sized piglets who tried to eat my fingers and pick my pockets.
While the piglets failed to get anything from my pockets, the fair vendors were much more successful. The price and lack of quality of the food was outrageous. The rides were all at least three dollars, with some being much more expensive. Willow had a great time though, even stopping to peruse the hot tubs on display inside one of the main buildings. She even requested that I take pictures of them. Despite the draining of our limited funds, it was worth it to see Willow have a good time. It's a good thing the other kids were at their dad's place or we'd have spent hundreds of dollars.
As one can see, it was cloudy today, with temperatures below normal. I approve.
This photo was taken with a new camera. We took the old Nikon in to get it repaired this weekend. The guy behind the counter took one look at it and asked, "have you considered getting a new camera?" It turned out that for ten dollars above the cost of getting the camera repaired, we could buy a new, much better (twice the megapixels) one. It sure is nice to take pictures that don't have flaws caused by a dirty lens. It's also nice to have a camera that doesn't flash the "lens error" message whenever it's turned on. Simple pleasures...
With our new cameras in tow, we took Willow to the county fair this weekend. Matt came along as well, so Willow had three adults to boss around. She loved the pony ride and the merry-go-round, but was much less certain about the petting zoo. The goats and sheep, animals of satan that they are, scared her. She was even a bit uncertain about the rat-sized piglets who tried to eat my fingers and pick my pockets.
While the piglets failed to get anything from my pockets, the fair vendors were much more successful. The price and lack of quality of the food was outrageous. The rides were all at least three dollars, with some being much more expensive. Willow had a great time though, even stopping to peruse the hot tubs on display inside one of the main buildings. She even requested that I take pictures of them. Despite the draining of our limited funds, it was worth it to see Willow have a good time. It's a good thing the other kids were at their dad's place or we'd have spent hundreds of dollars.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
As of a few days ago, I've been blogging for four years now. I never really had a plan for this site, but sometimes it's more interesting to see how things develop on their own.
Right now I'm at work. I'll be spending the night tonight, camping out on the lower field with a whole bunch of summer campers. Maybe this time I'll put a tarp over my sleeping bag so I don't wake up covered with dew. Actually, last week it was dew and a small tick crawling along my leg, which I promptly flicked off into the dirt (the tick, not the dew).
We did another critter hunt today, where I caught several of the same lizards for the second time this week, and we saw the same Rattlesnake again. It must be getting used to our visits by now. Hopefully we'll be able to get the camera fixed this weekend so I can take worthwhile pictures for the remainder of the summer. That's the plan anyway.
Right now I'm at work. I'll be spending the night tonight, camping out on the lower field with a whole bunch of summer campers. Maybe this time I'll put a tarp over my sleeping bag so I don't wake up covered with dew. Actually, last week it was dew and a small tick crawling along my leg, which I promptly flicked off into the dirt (the tick, not the dew).
We did another critter hunt today, where I caught several of the same lizards for the second time this week, and we saw the same Rattlesnake again. It must be getting used to our visits by now. Hopefully we'll be able to get the camera fixed this weekend so I can take worthwhile pictures for the remainder of the summer. That's the plan anyway.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
I brought home a can of worms for the worm bin today, and installed the wriggly little critters in their new abode. Less in the landfill, more for the soil.
At work this morning our group was accompanied by a camera crew who were shooting segments for onee of our fundraising groups. They were more interested in seeing outdoor school, as opposed to summer camp, activities so I taught a couple of mini-lessons on animal classification and weathering. We found a salamander nymph too. They filmed at least one other group and did some interviews with campers as well. When it's all edited together it will be posted on a web site somewhere. Link to follow at that time.
Oh, I forgot to mention that we saw a Bullfrog eating a Crayfish a couple of days ago. That's another first for me. Those damn Bullfrogs will eat anything, won't they?
I took Nate out to get some monster movies last night because he's been pestering us to get him some. I picked up Tremors because it's good monster fun, and Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes and The Mummy because they were really cheap used videos. Nate's watched them all and given them the thumbs up. I forgot about all of the cussing in Tremors though, mainly because the last time I watched it I wasn't thinking about whether it would be appropriate for children or not. As a parent, I find that I watch films in a much different way than I used to. Everything now goes through the, "is it okay for kids?" filter. The verdict on these three films: yes, sort of. Monster movies are cool.
At work this morning our group was accompanied by a camera crew who were shooting segments for onee of our fundraising groups. They were more interested in seeing outdoor school, as opposed to summer camp, activities so I taught a couple of mini-lessons on animal classification and weathering. We found a salamander nymph too. They filmed at least one other group and did some interviews with campers as well. When it's all edited together it will be posted on a web site somewhere. Link to follow at that time.
Oh, I forgot to mention that we saw a Bullfrog eating a Crayfish a couple of days ago. That's another first for me. Those damn Bullfrogs will eat anything, won't they?
I took Nate out to get some monster movies last night because he's been pestering us to get him some. I picked up Tremors because it's good monster fun, and Tim Burton's Planet of the Apes and The Mummy because they were really cheap used videos. Nate's watched them all and given them the thumbs up. I forgot about all of the cussing in Tremors though, mainly because the last time I watched it I wasn't thinking about whether it would be appropriate for children or not. As a parent, I find that I watch films in a much different way than I used to. Everything now goes through the, "is it okay for kids?" filter. The verdict on these three films: yes, sort of. Monster movies are cool.