Cantaloupe Goes Airborne

 

I have been doing this trick with balls of all sizes for sometime….a few decades. To try and put more pressure on myself, I allow myself to propel the occasional fruit into the air.  It may not seem like pressure to anyone else, but my wife’s “encouragement” in the background should I have to clean up anything resembling exploded fruit does give me a mini-rush.  Apples are only a small rush because any errors only results in bruising.  It is the cantaloupes, tomatoes, and maybe someday the watermelons that will give me the assurance my heart is still in tip-top shape.

 

Not A Morning Person

As I awoke today to a recently absent sun (I did get up before sunrise, but all indications were it was coming), I was thrilled to see the blue near-cloudless sky.  It made it easy to believe the weatherman was succumbing to the pressure of those in DFW not familiar with multiple back-to-back cloudy days.  His forecast seemed to be anticipating the reality that would be my day–SUN!!

I fired up the school “bus” and dropped the girls off to school.  Even though the temperature was still in the 30’s the blue skies and the emerging sun seemed to add at least 10 degrees to the temperature.  As the sun continued his ascension, I needed to run a mid-morning errand.  It was hard not to wear a smile and bask in the gift of the temperature-rising orb that finally accepted our daily invitation to visit.  My final errand was going to Sprout’s for a couple of bulk items and vegetables.

As I was preparing to check out, the register operator seemed less than enthusiastic to be there.  She had a stud on her upper lip, and her whole body hinted (actually, it screamed), “I am not a morning person.”  We maintained a simple dialogue.

She asked, “Did you find everything?”
I replied, trying to contrast her rather low volume, low interest voice, “When the sun came out today, everything else was a bonus!”
“Your total is $12.76.”, she said as she continued to replay the mental script all good cashiers are trained on.
“The card is swiped.  Not enough to sign for.  Looks like I am all set.”, I continued with a slightly upbeat tone.  I didn’t want my tone to be too glaringly cheerful and hurt her apparently overwhelmed head.
She forced a smile as she handed me my receipt. “Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your day.”
“I will.  You enjoy yours, too.”, I replied as I anticipated seeing the sun and feeling the sunlight again in a few moments.

Maybe I am too old to be so cheered by the sun.  And, maybe I just need to do the self-checkout so I don’t force anyone to engage in dialogue with a “happy” person.  If the purpose of some of my errands is to pull a small smile from a slightly bored employee, I am okay with that.  And, if I encounter a cashier who is a morning person, then the “good feelings” from the conversation can be banked for the next time I find someone who is not a morning person….sometimes I am not one either.

Photobombing For Friends

As we walked into Disney Saturday, my son and I decided we needed an additional project.  Besides the fun we would have dodging all of the many extra people that were here over Christmas, we decided we should take advantage of the many photobombing opportunities that presented themselves on Main Street USA.  SOOOOO many people are posing for pictures and soooo many people are trusting to get a good picture to treasure for years.  What better place to photobomb?  It was great place to test out all of those “Photobombing for Dummies” techniques described in the very helpful book.  (Does this book exist?  If so, then it is certainly over priced.)

I will admit my son and I did have some reservations as we attempted to “place” ourselves in the various pictures.  As it said in the book, the key to this art is being discrete without being excessively obvious.  Our efforts largely failed on the side of being overly discrete.  Possibly to the point where the distance between us and the “real” group being photographed was too far to be consequential or rankable in the annals of “photobombing”.

As we counted our failed attempts, we somehow found ourselves in the line for “Pirates of the Caribbean”.  My attempt to photobomb while in the “pirates” line failed on the “to obvious” side.  Because of the line, it was hard to walk-on and pretend like it didn’t happen.  So, my lips got ahead of my head, and I spilled my guts and told the photographer (an early 20’s girl traveling with her sister, mom, and boyfriends) of my son and my “challenge”.  She was overly sympathetic.  She even snapped another picture almost immediately where I could “photobomb” without any remorse.  It was a very liberating feeling.  No upset photographer, and I got to score a photobomb.

The rest of the 1/2 hour or so journey through the Pirates line was spent talking with 2 or 3 or the members of this family.  One used to live in Dallas. (mom)  One was a football player for the U of South Alabama football team (They got beat by Bowling Green in their bowl game.), and one was his girlfriend.  (The rest of the crew was not as chatty with outsiders.)  It was a good way to get my “fix” and get myself into the fun that is available while wandering through lines that are a necessary part of the pre-ride experience.

Later in the day, we saw this same family in the “Haunted Mansion” line.  I made a comment about “not photobombing anymore” as we passed in the wandering line.  As the line got closer to entry, we ended up where we could have talked in the line.  But, it seems friendships formed while photobombing are not long-lasting friendships.  And, as much as I felt semi-bonds were formed earlier in the day, it just seems appropriate the bonds formed while engaging in such destructive behavior were horribly short-lived.

Guilty As Accused

I have suffered from this phenomenon for a number of years, but I never had a word for it.

Abibliophobia-the fear of running out of reading material

I remember going on vacations while growing up.  I always was afraid I would run out of things to read.  (We had a great large van.  My dad built a platform for us to lay on while the suitcases were packed in underneath.  We even had a fan and small refrigerator in the van for those LONG driving days he so enjoyed.  With all the seat belt stuff these days, it would probably be a illegal…) Since I have gotten married, I still have enjoyed hauling more books along then was reasonable.  Even though I had my kids to entertain and take care of, I still seem to have a reading expectation programmed into my brain.  I would haul around a stack of books and not even get half way through.  I was always afraid I would start one of the books and find out it was too slow, too profanity laden, or too full of adult scenes.

Fortunately, I lived long enough to see the Kindle.  (The Nook is interchangeable, but I use the Kindle.)  I just have to pack my Kindle.  I have some religious, fantasy, and thrillers.  I even have a couple of games.  The Kindle has certainly eased my packing.  And, now that airplanes don’t make me shut it off during takeoff and landing, it is even better.  (Because I am eternally paranoid, I usually take at least one book should the Kindle every unexpectedly die.)

I will likely always be a little odd in this way.  Even with the Kindle, I will load up on a few extra books before a trip.  I know I will never get to them, but it is just seems like “old” times when I load the Kindle with a few new books before a trip.  The other part about being a abibliophobic is owning a book makes it half read!

Grandma Therapy

My mother came down for Thanksgiving last month.  It had been a few months since she had seen her grandkids.  Even though they had never met my mother, it certainly seemed like our exchange students needed a little attention only a grandmother could properly give.

Both of our exchange students (both Chinese and Korean student) have at least one living grandmother in their native countries. Whether the grandmother lives with her family (Korean) or a short train ride away (Chinese),  they speak of an active grandmother who travels, cooks, and plays an active part in their lives.  Enter my mother…

Prior to my mother arriving for Thanksgiving week (her birthday usually falls during this week if not on the day of), we sat around the dinner table talking about how busy grandma likes to stay.  We mentioned how she likes to keep a conversation going.  And, of course, how she likes hugs.  Apparently, these conversations were not lost on our exchange students!  They seemed to have painted a picture in their minds of a grandmother not very different from their very own grannies.

In my view, grandmothers are people who do not seem to have to make or enforce rules.  Grandmas are along to be almost entirely accommodating to any and all requests of their grandkids.  It would seem this is also the case for Asian grandmas.  Having said this, an American grandma can help some exchange grandkids (grandkids to someone else, but somehow the title of grandma seems to easily be transferrable.  If you are grandmother to someone else, then you can be temporarily adopted as someone else’s grandmother, too.)  Being a grandma is not a transferable title, but it does appear to be one that can be borrowed.

It seems “hugs” are a great grandma thing to “demand” of all grandchildren or grandchildren-like people.  My daughter told me that even though they were busy doing “Black Friday” shopping, our Chinese student insisted on giving my mother a hug every half hour or so.  (I don’t do Black Fridays any more, so I will have to trust her.) I have also seen our Korean student give her frequent hugs.  It isn’t just the quick hugs that are the “obligatory hugs”.  These seem to be hugs that say, “if I close my eyes, I can pretend this is my real grandmas I am hugging” hugs.  Since my mother has always been a strong proponent of hug therapy, the extra residents of the house gave her more people to entice into her arms.

Although it was initially voluntary, my mother had even requested a couple of extra massages from our exchange students.  I am not entirely aware if this is done in their native countries to their older relatives, but my mom has never been good at saying “no” to special attention.  Her hand massages while driving paled in comparison to the back/neck/arm massage she received before going to bed the one night.  She took it all in, and likely slept better because of it.  I am pretty sure there was at least one more massage scheduled before she left.

Finally, our Chinese student and my mother also took a walk together to the park.  I haven’t seen the selfie, but apparently they took a one together while they were setting on the swings.

It wouldn’t be a very good story if all was perfect!  One of my daughters has been quite distraught about sharing her grandma.  She is glad grandma can get so much attention, but she was hoping to just draw the line at sharing her house with the exchange students.  It was her strong desire to keep her grandma in a special category reserved for baby toys and other things only shared with blood siblings.  As my mother’s stay has ended, my daughter seems to have gotten her “maturity” in this area.

My mother’s visit more than most other things we have done with our exchange students made the line between “family” and “non-family” clear.  As the parent, any child under my roof qualifies as family.  (There are degrees of family, but this is mostly sound.)  As a child in a rather diverse household, it seems the same philosophy does not apply.  I don’t blame my daughter for not embracing her new siblings  And, I don’t blame our exchange students for doing anything wrong.  Every experience we have in life gives us a chance to find out more about ourselves.  Learning about ourselves is not always fun, but knowing we are almost half way into this chapter (the chapter entitled, “Our Asian Exchange Students”) of our lives lets us treasure the remaining experiences on the downhill slide.

Who Moved My Chair?

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Saturday was the culmination of many hours of labor for my 8th grade robotics team.  Although I was their “coach”, they didn’t really need me very much.  They are all very good students, and my primary role was keeping them on “task” over the past few months.   The FLL program they participated in is very well organized.  Feel free to follow the link for ALL the info you may want to find out about the program.

My entire Saturday was spent mostly keeping the team in front of the correct door or the correct table at the designated time.  Coaches were not allowed to be with the kids while they were being judged or while they were running their robots on the course.  Translated:  There was a bit of down time.  Also, since the school that was hosting the Robotics judging was hosting more people than it was used to, coaches were instructed to bring chairs if they wanted to be guaranteed a seat.  With my card table chair in hand as I entered the gym, I had my permanent spot reserved for my posterior whenever I wanted to park.  (In my mind, I didn’t think outdoor collapsible chairs would work.  They are outdoor chairs, aren’t they?  Sure they are cool with their armrests, but I just didn’t think this was the type of chair to bring to an event like this.  Would it hurt the wood gym floor?  I guess I am sometimes overly-conscientious. )

Each of the 26 teams at this robot judging, received an 8′ x 8′ area for their team to setup.  My team’s area was right by the main entrance.  The robot course tables (see above) were just in front of our area inside the main entrance.  Whenever a judging took place, all of the parents who were not permitted to enter any of the judging areas, flocked to watch their child’s team robot do all of the task it could in the 2:30 minutes it was given.  Additionally, each team got 3 chances to run this course.  Hopefully, my description implies it got a little crowded in front of our “space”.  As it worked out, we willing relinquished a portion of our space before eminent domain was necessary.  We huddled in the back half of our space knowing it was a contribution we were unlikely to be thanked for offering.  Other than one of the kids getting sick in the bathroom and having to go home early, the morning was pretty smooth.

Lunch time for 40 (30 kids and 10 adults) equals about 16 pizzas, or at least it did today.  Although we (the emphasis on the kids) tried to eat them all, about 1/4 of them made it home with us.  After lunch, my team had about an hour before their final robot run.  As I walked into the gym, a quick rightward glance showed my chair was gone.  I gave it a little time thinking someone had borrowed it and would return it after lunch.  As my team worked with their robot to figure out what programming changes they needed to make to allow their robots to work on the slightly larger (only 1/4 inch or so, but it makes a difference) course, I walked the gym looking for where my chair may have taken sanctuary.  I received a few looks as my glances moved from chair to chair.  As it turned out, the only card table style chair was right across from our space.  I was sure my chair was more gray rather than the olive gray offered by this chair candidate.  I roamed the halls and the cafeteria trying to determine if someone had hijacked my chair to any of these other locations.  I thought I might getting a text with a ransom request, but it never came.  I guilted someone into giving up their chair to the “poor guy who lost his”, and I mentioned my predicament to the staff.  I didn’t want momma to think I lost it without at least trying.

While I suffered through this possible loss of the chair, my robot team had a very good run on their third try.  Apparently, my “hands off” coaching style was continuing to prove itself yet again.  As the meet was winding toward awards, I approached the group where “my” chair was setting.  They claimed it showed up right before lunch.  Since there was difference in time of disappearance, I was pretty sure I would be walking out with this chair even if my chair didn’t turn up.

As it turned out, my chair obsession in no way hindered my daughter’s team from success.  They got second (or third) place at this meet.  And, since the top 6 were going to the regional on February 14th, it looks like my Valentine’s Day would not be spent smelling roses or eating chocolate.  Fortunately, the chair I walked out with did have at least one twin at our home.  I credit my chair obsession as the reason for the team’s success.  Kids like a coach better when he is not in helicopter-mode.

 

Mommy Directions

After going to the Christmas musical at Gateway church last year, we (definitely my wife and girls for sure) were excited to go again this year.  When momma wants to go, we try and make it happen!

Unfortunately, today was not an ideal day to make it happen.  As we fought the sprinkles and the full parking lot, our battle proved impossible when we wanted to find 7 seats all together inside the auditorium.  My wife ended up sitting with two of the girls (one exchange daughter and one bio).  My son and I sat together in the overflow area, and the other two girls sat together inside the auditorium because they would not tolerate watching the Truthical on “screen-only”.

Just after we sat, my wife gave me a quick text about our post-musical meeting place- “Meet you outside the entrance where we came in”.  The church is monstrous, but I was certainly capable of retracing my steps.  I texted back letting her know to look for the two other girls before settling in for the show. After a few Broadway songs with “revised” words, some witty dialogue, a few cute kid moments, and the post-musical altar invitation, my son and I easily found the entrance my wife described in her text.

The first 5 minutes we waited, we assumed it was difficult to pull all of the girls together.  The next ten minutes were spent watching the crowds thin as the “leavers” swarmed to the exit and the “comers” for the next performance rushed to fill the vacated seats in the balcony above.  My phones vibration pulled me away from my people watching.  After confirming I was at the correct entrance, my wife requested I raise my hand.  Of course, if she would have been at the correct entrance, we would easily have been reunited at this point.  My son’s phone call to mom confirmed what we suspected-the large Christmas tree at the OTHER entrance had caused my wife to lose all sense of direction.  Just like at a Disney amusement park, she was drawn to the big object regardless of where she really wanted to go.

Although the large quantity of incoming and outgoing cars and those jockeying for better parking spots to avoid excessive rain accumulation on their umbrella-less bodies greatly delayed our evacuation of the Gateway premises, my wife was confident behind the wheel.  You see, in our 20+ years of marriage, we have learned a couple of things about each other.  I was not shocked or angry when she was unable to find the entrance she described.  And, I was relieved beyond my ability to express when she volunteered to drive us out of this parking lot of perdition.  Individually, we have a few faults, but the team is AWESOME.

Desktop Down

After previous computer deaths (this includes external hard drives) and the discovery of “unreplaceable pictures”, we did set all of the computers up for “Carbonite” a few years ago.  So, when the computer semi-officially died yesterday (my son gets home from college tomorrow.  I will give him one shot at it before I deem it official.), my wife had NO concern about any of the expenses and time related to the purchase and setup of the new computer.

With a “I really hope you answer yes to this question” sort of look, she asked, “All my picture are okay, aren’t they?”
With no real choice in the matter, I answered, “Yes, dear!”

Fortunately, I had been anticipating this death for awhile.  The grinding or spitting or verbal exhaust of the nearly 6 year old desktop had Dr. Dad prepared for this moment for quite sometime.  A couple of weeks ago, I arrived at my most recent brilliant plan to save EVERYTHING digital at one location.  The previously mentioned “orange” Chromebook came with a two year TERABYTE of data deal.  So now, I have been moving videos, images, documents and whatever I can find from assorted CDs, DVDs, & SDHC cards onto GoogleDrive. Of course, I am maintaining an additional copy of everything.  However, due to Carbonite not ingesting all of the above mentioned file types on my chosen Carbonite plan, I have begun this consolidation journey.

As the details of my “plan” were coming together, I realized my wife’s pictures were a top priority.  Last week, I filled a USB drive with what I believed were all her pictures.  I had a tough time convincing myself I had ALL of her pictures.  The folders were all “time stamped” with descriptive names.  I saw a couple of small gaps, but I just assumed all of the folder names were descriptive of the most recent events prior to the upload.  No problem.  Happy wife!

After last night’s assumed non-rescusitatible death, I started digging around on the Carbonite backup of that computer.  And, I realized how many more pictures were tucked away somewhere in the Carbonite cloud.  I have been downloading folders FULL of pictures most of last night, this morning, and for most of the foreseeable day.  In total, I am likely to add another 40+ gigs of data to my “unlimited” GoogleDrive.

Although no death is convenient, this death should have a happy ending for me.  Momma is happy she should have all her pictures available again soon.  (I salute her for being such a shutterbug, but WOW does she capture everything.  Additionally, she borrows other peoples SD cards, so she has recruited other people to make sure she is never criticized by her children for not having a proper answer to, “Where is the picture of me doing [whatever]?”) I will be happy when my sons enthusiasm for a new computer will translate into them setting it up.  (Yes, I could wait for Christmas to get the new computer, but since Christmas lists are pretty full and momma needs her computer for more Shutterfly albums and researching vacations we may never take.) And, everyone else will be happy when they have a dependable, non-noisy, superfast hunk of hardware to play Runescape or look at Pinterest!

820 Express Joy Ride

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After coming off of almost 4 years of construction (ever since we moved to Texas), it would seem almost “whiny” to find fault with the “school taxi” route being reduced by 5-10 minutes both ways.  Of course, categorizing this as an observation clears my conscience and allows me to do the retelling…

The closest highway to our house is due south.  It is “820”.  It is an outerbelt to Fort Worth.  Just to the east to southeast of us are a couple of more well-traveled highways.  And, to the west, there is US 35.  (US 35 is a slightly messed up highway.  It “splits” north of DFW and reunites south of DFW north of Waco.  This allows directions containing “Go north on 35W off of 820W”) The story I heard is when “the really smart highway engineers” realized all of these highways were generating more traffic than could reasonably be handled by the existing structure, somebody came up with a rather unique plan.  Since we have quite a few toll roads in Texas-even though some of them are lightly used, “the really smart cheapskates who make decisions on how to pay for highways” decided they would allow someone (enter a rich guy from the Middle East-remember, I am not researching this-it is what I was told) to pay for the construction of this new road.  Fortunately, due to the incredible volume of traffic, “the people in Austin who have a conscience” would not allow the road to become a toll road with no alternatives.  They chose to split the difference.  They created a “normal” chunk of 820 (speed limit 60 mph), and they created a chunk of 820 (and points slightly east) where there is a toll with a speed limit of 70 mph.  (Having a toll card makes the pain minimal.)  “The people who sucked in an investor to this unique project” did give him/her (“the person/company who needed to spend lots of money on a project where they may never get a return on their money”) a concession.  Not only did “the greedy investor” get a toll road, but they got a road with varying tolls.  I have seen the tolls as low as $0.25 and as high as $3.25.  It varies on time of day and how thick the traffic is at that particular moment.

My adventure occurred yesterday morning.  It was a thick foggy day with visibility of less than 1/2 a mile.  After dropping off the girls at school, I began the normal 7:30ish route home.  Due to the visibility or the novelty of fog or the arrogance of some over-zealous Texas driver, my normal, non-toll route was WAY backed up.  I detoured to the access road (This is also a phenomenon in Texas.  I was not aware of “access roads” in Ohio.  Essentially, it is a road that runs parallel to many of the highways.  It allows a driver to get on the highway from the access road without having to enter an entrance ramp from a complete stop.  It also allows many addresses to incorporate the names of the highways.  An address like, “8200 820E” might be a completely valid address.)   to avoid sitting in traffic for any extended time.  At the next intersection, I could make a turn to the left or right OR I could go straight before choosing to take the left or right fork – one to the “normal” 820 and one to the “toll” 820.  Unfortunately, I chose left.  (I should have known left was the toll because on the highway the toll road is situated inside of the normal road.) I endured a near traffic free journey to the next exit. (This exit was past my normal exit.  The “express” did not allow me to get off where I wanted, but it was close…)  The rest of my journey home was uneventful.

As I dropped off the girls today, there was minimum fog and light traffic on the normal route home.  When I drove by the sign where my toll would have been displayed yesterday, the same “detour” today would have cost me $1.40.  I have convinced myself I would have sat in traffic for a considerable amount of time if I did not take my “joy ride”, so it is obviously money well spent!

Leaf Swishing Memories

It was rather a cold day yesterday for yet another one of “our” walks together.  The construction along the normal path forced us to take our “old” normal walk, but we were both fine with that.  It gave us the chance to walk side-by-side and get caught up on the “House of the Month” and the day. (Spouses are supposed to do that.)

The cold weekend had made most of the trees decide the leaves were optional attire.  Many of the oaks were still maintaining some modesty.  As winter progressed they would also shed their old clothing in anticipation of the new clothes awaiting them in the spring.  And, it was these old clothes covering many of the sidewalks that gave my wife and I much pleasure.

One of the earliest dates I can remember was a walk through my wife’s neighborhood.  It was just after a brief rain.  Because I was still more boy than man (I likely still fit that description in most categories), I found humor in grabbing the trees lower branches and shaking them as we passed under the low hanging limbs.  Granted, I may have gotten a little wet as well, but my future wife did take the brunt of the trees premature shedding of the accumulated rain.

Today’s walking date had leaves that were not going to be holding any rain for young lovers to shake onto each other’s heads.  The leaves were mostly all spread out on the sidewalk.  They were content to sit idly by awaiting any slight breeze.  Or, they were content to lay their all snug with their kindred who had enjoyed a season together enjoying the blue Texas sky.  As we walked through the older congregants of St Oak, the leaves swished together to remind us they were there.  In our wake, they whispered their concerns until the motion of our footsteps  was a memory.

As we walked through more seasoned piles of leaves, we enjoyed the special earthy smell reserved for dampened leaves. Some of the leaves decided to rustle together, appearing to have slightly more disagreement about the their present roles. If they were to far gone to rustle or less trusting of the pedestrians determined to disrupt their retirement, the leaves may have yielded an occasional crunch as a secret stash of acorns was revealed.

As we neared the end of the walking route, we knew it was not the leaves or the breeze or the mistletoe (Yes, we are not too old to notice) growing in many of the trees that took us out on this post-dinner walk.  It was time to enjoy each others company without having to share each other with those we had left at home to clean up the dishes.  It was time to realize and remember the commitments made and the life shared.  And, it was time to burn a few of the extra carbs eaten during dinner….