Month: October 2009

sophisticate

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A recent tour of some pricey Scottsdale homes revealed to me that women who change their otherwise-normal names to slightly pretentious names in order to appear sophisticated do in fact hobnob at higher dollar values, or at least get into real estate. The ostentatious Helenes, Khayleys, and Joodies of the world are now in for some competition, as we are changing Alana’s name to Ælæknæ.   The K is silent, and there will be an umlaut over the ligature ae, thus rendering it phonetically exactly like it is now.   I am still combing the internet for the correct html code to represent this foray into bombast.

I really think this will help her get into a prestigious prePrepCharterMagnet daycare. But Ælæknæ (the k is silent) may still need two middle names, so I might be making a return trip to the Maricopa County Recorder’s Office.

Fossil Fuels…such a convenience, or, Water Roadie II

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Since it was still on the floor of the garage, and since we had some friends celebrating their anniversary with some paddling, we scrounged up a bit of spare coin to hire a sitter and goto Canyon Lake.     50 min from driveway to water!

Brett and Tiffany’s sitter fell through at the last minute, but ours was cool with 4 kids, and a pretty respectable hourly rate for her efforts.   G got to play with Miranda (3.5) and Sydney (2), while our humble kayak morphed into a little flotilla.   Other than 2 tours in Hawaii, and a trip with some friends in Reno on Lake Tahoe…our first time paddling, where capsizing worries, motor boats, and smacking each other’s paddles had us on edge…I don’t think Beckie and I have ever paddled with anyone else.   Yet all of our speeds, stamina, shit-togetheredness, and je ne sais quo matched quite well. A fantastic time was had. A well-above average number of photos were taken for a yakking trip, which is still not saying much. We got no shots of the peaceful narrows under the first metal bridge.

lunch break
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diving off rocks. Brett’s flip was much more impressive, but the camera was not ready
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water was chilly, but too nice to forego
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On the drive back, I described to Beckie every turn in the road, was amazed how quickly we got up the climb to the scenic vista pullout, and how similar pace to the roadie we went down the descent. The 13 mile stop-and-go slog back from AJ was much better in a car, though after a day of rumbling motorboat and shoulderless roads in our giant-ass truck I appreciated the roadie even more.

The kids were all alive and had a far better time together than apart, which made my still sun-warmed skin tingle that much more. G taught Miranda and Sydney how much fun it is to throw rocks into the pool. I have a chore this weekend that will be colder than the lake.

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Blight of the Pigs

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I have unfortunately managed to never do this 70 mile ride on the day after Tday.   It starts at the crack of dawn, across National, up canals through the city to T100 coast-to-coast, then back through the city to Tempe and a party.

Getting up burdened by a hangover and tryptophan would suck, but i’d get over it by the time we reached the Waterfall.   Spending all day with some great friends on the bike would be worth it.   But mostly Tday has for as long as I can remember been a pretty special family day for us, and ditching everyone from pre-dawn til late late at night didn’t seem fun.

Last year we spent Tday with our neighbors then the day after around the house.   Two years ago we went to Rocky Point and G and I danced to “Kiss Me I’m Shitfaced” while we spent all weekend cooking and eating in the great room.   3 years ago my sister and parents all came to visit, the last time we’d all been together until a wedding last month.   Trips to Florida, hikes in the Catalinas, long rides of 40 miles from Scottsdale out National to Telegraph and back on Classic,   friends from out of town, friends who have since passed, and once a random Ultimate player on a business trip who I had actually played with at Princeton 10 years earlier…

Bummed I’ll be missing it again this year, especially with the Hei Hei being such a suitable bike.   But not that bummed.

I am eating…?

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  • cheeze whiz
  • cat food
  • some stuff spooned up from my diaper
  • leftover shuro watt
  • pureed squash
  • a big tubful of Gu
  • it doesn’t matter, you’ll be seeing it again ASAP

correct answers are entered to win our grand prize drawing.

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Water Roadie

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Summer had one last (knock-on-wood) 100 degree gasp, and we had my parents around to watch the kids, so the kayak made its first appearance in 2.5 years.

30 min to get the boat from rafters to rack, 30 min into the water at Butcher Jones Beach; not bad being out of practice and with a new piece-of-shit truck.   So what we forgot our tortilla chips, and only had cheap beer in cans, and would only get to be out for about 3 hrs…for the first time in about as long as I can remember, it seemed like Beckie and I both relaxed within about 10 minutes and started having fun together.   Must be the steady cadence of paddling, just like the road bike, lulling you into a semi-conscious state of effort, lulling you into a slow drift from here to there and all the details in between.   Every muscle involved quickly let me know its been awhile, but got numb in about 30 minutes and didn’t much bother me the rest of the afternoon or the next day.

It was a beautiful afternoon.   So what it was Saguaro Lake, and the stream of boat engines reverberated off the walls and kept a steady roll on the water…our boat is stable, and the waves sounded like the ocean.   Some of my friends fixate on the road traffic and fumes riding to the lake, but I’m used to it.   Its beautiful, rolling and close.   We stuck to the edges, and got off just at dark.

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and left the boat on the floor with plans of hiring a sitter one day next week, before it gets hung from the roof for another 2 years.

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Communications 302: Advanced Topics in Blatherology

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Alana has taken her crying up a notch.   Its to screaming.   Its beyond screaming.   Its Jamie Lee Curtis in-her-heyday-even-before-the-boob-job-made-her-hotter screaming.   She knows exactly what she is doing. She is announcing her presence with authority; she is exerting her will to power.

I kinda squirted some milk down her face by accident, sorta, not.   Cause she was not eating, and screaming so vehemently, so meanly, so hurtfully at me.   At least I didn’t put the pillow over her face.   Not to strangle her, just to muffle her a little. I pick her up in the morning and lie down with her: she shrieks.   Beckie walks out of a room: she shrieks.   Take the spoon away while feeding her: she shrieks.   I’ve started feeding her with 2 spoons – one she believes is by-the-grace-of-god issuing food, the other i stuff into her piehole. I remember G doing this, one of the first things I remember.

It could be she is screaming so passionately cause she really understands about being with people and really doesn’t like being alone.   Can’t walk, can’t crawl, trapped in a pants-based restraining devices.   all she can do is scream.   like jo.

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She gets hungry, she knows the food is just out of reach.   She’s like Kila, and inhales all she can, as fast as she can…a mouth with a dog attached to it, a mouth attached to a baby, and hands unable to tease the magic from the spoon.

In the midst of the maintenance you catch her eye, and like a vampire, she does something so insanely cute she freezes you as you light her up with attention.     I’d seen this with G playing with her, how they both are filled by the connection, and lately when she spots Kila or Turtle. But I hadn’t experienced its devastating power much since I’m always dealing with her, not with her.   i felt kinda bad about the mark she got by wrapping a string around her neck, I rubbed her head, and fed her some banana, and made stoopid noises.   She paid me in smiles, then shrieked some more.

She has learned to sit a week shy of her 8th birthday
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Communications 301: Topics in Blatherology

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Sometimes I talk to G now, and am stunned when in response to a substantive bit of dialog I instead get an empy “Huh?” in return. Generally speaking, she has gotten that smart that I expect a good conversation.

She has opinions, she has plans, she has thoughts, she has motivating issues.   But she has so much love and sweetness that dealing with her is painfully easy, for the hardest of subjects.   4 hours in the car – give her a movie and a snack and a hug and tell her we are heading to the beach or the mountains and its no problem.   Need to wash her hair, ask her to get it wet for you.   She’s bored, ask her for help in whatever you are doing.

She has a mild discoloration from her big raspberry, and as I ask her to let me rub it, she tolerates and repeats “rub the mark to move around the blood.”   I taught her to read the wind, using words that make no sense and seem contradictory when you say them.

Me:   Do you hear this? Its quiet
G: ??
Me: Do you hear this? This is upwind
G: Daddy I hear the wind!

She gets upset and the storm within her builds, and I say “Relax. Relax, we’ll get [x]“.   And she buys it, and steps off the ledge.   I noticed my father using the same phrase around her.   I wonder who got it from whom?

I pack her blanket, and pack her pretzels in a bag to take to the beach. She tenses, I tell her I am packing them for the beach, she relaxes and gets on her shoes.

A friend accused me of playing favorites. I don’t think its favorites, there is room for more littleGirls, I just like what G is all about.   I like it a lot.   Magic times with my witty cheery best friend. Trips to the park and pounces when I come home are the blood diamonds of my civil war against parenthood.

Red Rocked

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Foreword: A post about riding in Sedona, that has not a single picture.

Plot Summary: A large group camping in the heart of the Sedona trail system.   Kids, friends, dogs, bikes.   New riding challenges, new personal challenges, for all of us, even Kila.   Beckie rides with the group, and allegedly has fun. Jason watches kids and then rides solo.   Potluck, beer, campfire, cold night on hard ground.   Beckie and brood return for a littleBirthDayParty; Jason catches ride home after more red rocks.

Scene 1 – The Arrival: G is covered in puke, there is a hullaboo, Beckie puts on tight pants, a tent is raised, dog butts are sniffed.

Scene 2 – The Watching: Children climb walls, litterally.   100 ft. up one made of red rocks.   Parents and grandparents panic, bonks happen.

Scene 3 – The Group Ride: 16 strong.   Beckie agonizes over returning home, until Noel asks “what would Jason do?”   Beckie rides on.

Scene 4 – Arrivals, Departures:   Jason steals DurtGurl’s $230 pedals for solo ride.   Beckie returns to camp with exploding boobs.

Scene 5 – HOTH: Jason rides High on the Hog 1.5 times, nearly dies twice, great fun is had. Beckie, G and various children and parents embrace the goods of Sedona and 2 wheels

Scene 6 – The Potluck:   Food, camping, beer, children, fire, bdays, pie.

Scene 7 – The Departure: Beckie and kind return to Mesa

Scene 8 – The Sunday Ride: More High on the Hog. so many trials, so many good pics.

Some great pics from Dale and Kathleen. Thanks DG for organizing, and everyone for such a great time.

Tdog4evr

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G’s daycare asked for donations of old pet toys, props etc for an upcoming unit on pets and animals. We’d had Tsaina’s leash and collar sitting around for…about 8 yrs now since we had to put T down. Its too bulky to enjoy using, and it didn’t really seem right to Kila anyway, and I didn’t have the heart to give it away or throw it out. This seemed a great solution.

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Its the last tangible thing we have left of her. Pets don’t leave much behind, except buckets filled with a bisque of fond and sad memories. I haven’t looked at these pics in a couple years, and when I did I could instantly remember exactly what her fur felt like. Finer than Kila’s, but not as much as Turtle’s, but softer, more like G’s hair. She’s buried in the backyard under a jacaranda tree that has never really thrived, along with a couple lava pebbles we brought back from the base of the Kilauea Volcano . We thought the purple bloom would remind us of her collar.

A few pics that captured her.

Mt Wrightston, March 1998
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Cochise Stronghold, September 1999
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For a few years, I labeled all my discs “Tsaina – Tuscon“. She was my road tripping companion on all those solo drives up to Phoenix for practice. I got started on mellow runzeheunding with her on my bike from our crappy house on Craycroft in Tucson up to the washes behind Ft. Lowell Park, where I’d have a party hat and play on little trials or take her for trail runs along the river.

peak of Pass Mtn, January 2001
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Tsaina and Smudge, she loved him cause she saved him. She’s smiling even after a biopsy.
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I had some nice pictures of her swimming in the river in front of Red Mtn at Granite Reef, but I didn’t feel like posting them. She loved to swim, and it was the best we could do to let her exercise once her leg became immobile with the tumor. I haven’t felt guilty about it for years, I just don’t know what to do with the baggage. When is an acceptable time to let it all go? When is an acceptable time to embrace dying?

pets on the bed

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Wasn’t all that long ago that the Menagerie Brewery closed its doors and became a daycare facility.   Stupid Diego got himself disappeared. Then Slim finally died (yeah!).   then Mancoon pissed himself into adoption, then Jo screamed herself into adoption.

Both of these latter events seem to have set a valid precedent for selling Alana to an Arab Shiek when she gets on my nerves – i hear they pay extra for blue-eyed infants. Sometimes I can’t even sleep in my bed cause G hogs it or pees it.   Litter box filth is far easier to clean than bits of food everywhere.   Hair and feathers vacuum up much easier than giving someone a daily bath. Having a pet is like getting ready to be a parent, except with a pet you can still be you.

I’ve been thinking about getting a kitten, but the odds are so against one surviving our house, it needs to be one only that we pull from the jaws of death.   I want to start over when they are quiet and cute and sleep a lot, and are ultimately sheddable.