Basketball Now

Okay, so I was disappointed about last week. All went very quiet around here last weekend when teams lost.

But basketball looks interesting today (now that I'm out of my black attire).

I may just watch it.

Anticipation

With all that is going on, and all I have to do.... I keep thinking about basketball instead.

Enough!  Egads.  Don't I have better things to do?

(basketball....)

It does not help that Gonzaga's women play on Saturday right here in Spokane.  I've been to some tournament games here, when the women play.  Very exciting!

But today is about Salt Lake City.... and 1 p.m.

Enough, I said!

And now back to my regularly scheduled program, entitled "Thursday's Workday."

Just A Note

Here I am, at the end of a visit to Chicago, for my mother's birthday celebration with family.  I saw siblings and extended family.  We like an excuse for a party.  I have been able to see my nephews, ages 5 and 2.  They're so great.  They're such good boys, with big smiles and hugs.  We continued the family tradition where one (or both) of them is sick when I arrive, and then I get sick as a result.  Ta da! (As the youngest would say, arms raised over his head in celebration of the milestone.)  Just like with my Dad's big birthday bash in San Diego a little over a year ago ... I was sick, courtesy of toddler germs. Ah, well.  The only option was to have no hugs.  And that was not an option.

My mom has reunited with cousins and so we had the chance to meet new people too, in the midst of it all.  It is amazing how connections do not cease even when time has passed.  The cousins laughed looking over old photos, and the "baby" cousin said to my mom, "No wonder I thought you were so tall" (as we looked at a photo of him as a kid, about waist high to my mother, in her teens).  I had a chance to see my uncle from North Carolina and his family as well, including a cousin of my own.  It has been since 2008 that I'd had a chance to see them all, so this was good to see them now.

As always, I take home with me such good stories of sweet nephews...

Each morning the older one would make his way to my room in the early a.m., to see if I was awake yet.  This woke me up.  He was a master at convincing me that I wanted to get up with him while the rest of the house slept.  This too is a family tradition of sorts over the last few years (once he had a big-boy bed and was able to get up on his own).  I love this ten-to-twenty-minute detour - just the two of us - before the day begins.  I asked him this morning if he had had any dreams in the night.  He said he didn't remember them.  Then he said something about science.  I asked him what he meant.  He said something about science, and kids dreaming - it was something he had read, or seen on TV.  I was still confused.  He couldn't remember the details.  I like talking to him about his dreams.  Sometimes the best information comes from dreams...

And the little one is just charming these days.  He has a grand smile and a big hand clap.  He gets more and more words as the days go by.  He loves to emphasize in the affirmative. "Yesh," he will say when he agrees with you about something, or when you've accurately guessed the word he is trying to say, or the thing he wants you to get for him.  And he holds no fear, that one.  The boys were having a balloon fight - he didn't flinch.  The cousins had just arrived, and he drove his new dinosaur toy across the lap of one of them (presumably so she would know that she was welcomed in his home). 

Last night, the boys played hide-and-seek with an uncle (technically a close friend of the family, but a diehard uncle all the same).  He raced and hid, and they did the same.  They squealed and laughed as he played the game with them.  The little one spent almost no time hiding - he prefers the hunt.  It was nice to see the uninhibited joy on their faces - especially now that I no longer have the flu.

Oh, and Gonzaga got a number one ranking for March Madness. Did you see?

Just A Thought

When people speak of the "liberal wing" of the Supreme Court, they have no idea how flipped over that sounds.  Breyer is a liberal? My, how the center has moved far right...

photo by elycefeliz found here 

As Seen On The Internet

I saw a comment at the end of a difficult news story (about a supposed do gooder in Spokane who is now charged with illegally bilking people out of money).  Emotions run high, I have no doubt.  This particular commenter was outraged at the behavior of the individual who was the subject of the story.  The commenter said a few things to ensure that his opinion was known.  He then concluded with the following advice:

"fine god, repent, and free your sole"

If only we all could do so well.

Cowboys

I saw a five-year-old cowboy the other day.  He had on a fringe vest, a holster, boots and all. He sauntered when he walked. It was in a parking lot - not out on the range - so there was no horse.  I smiled when I saw him. He started to smile back, but then got stoic instead. I nodded at him, in a "I see you are a cowboy" sort of way. I think he wanted to tip his hat.

A friend of mine is an actual cowboy - a rancher actually, on the Great Plains in southeast Wyoming. He is strong and good, does not approve of my politics and loves me anyway.  Once he let me ride the range with him. I helped round up a couple stray cattle who had broken through the barbed wire fence.  He had me chase after one of the strays by galloping my horse up a hill where the stray had gone. He told me to race by the stray and cut him off. It caused the steer to startle and head back down the hill, towards the other cattle, my friend and his horse. It would have been easier for my friend to have taken care of that task himself. He graciously stepped to the side instead, to give me a chance to have the experience.

I have achieved many different feats in life, but this moment stands out as one of the most exciting - when I headed off a steer at the pass.  It was the Cowboy in my friend that allowed me my memory.

There is something about the spirit of the Cowboy that causes me to have some faith that humanity can ultimately find its way. Cowboys are the mavericks, who live a zen kind of day, responding to the travails of the moment - its weather, its meals... The closest modern day equivalent for cowboys are Navy SEALs. But Navy SEALs are hand chosen based on quality of character and physique. Cowboys are self-selected - decide for themselves to join the forces that ride the range. And still they are more likely than not to help a stranger in need.  Perhaps there is something in the title that draws to it the kind of individual who will help out another if the need arises.  Perhaps it is the lack of humanity surrounding them on a day-to-day basis (out there on the range) that creates this tendency towards good deeds when they do happen upon another human being in need.  The Lone Ranger is their superhero...

I went to Montana this weekend, to the Big Sky Documentary Film Festival. On my way, I crossed Lookout Pass - the mountain pass that must be crossed to go from Idaho to Montana on I-90.  As I crossed into Montana, I recalled crossing this pass years ago, coming the other way. I was coming home from a trip to Arizona that included spring training book signings for my baseball novel, as well as a book signing at the Phoenix Airport.  (Book signings at airports carry their own mysteries.)

As I got to Lookout Pass back then - crossing from Montana into Idaho that time, knowing I was just a couple hours' drive from home - a spring storm hit.  Truckers were pulling off the road to wait out the storm.  I'm sure they were radioing each other up and down I-90, warning each other not to risk the journey. I had no such wisdom. All I knew was that I wanted to get home. I kept driving.

I became the only vehicle on the road. The snow was blinding. I was terrified. I slowed to a crawl.

Suddenly a truck came up quickly behind me. The trucker pulled into the left lane and passed me at a dangerous speed. As soon as he had passed, he pulled back into the right lane, right in front of me, and put on his brakes - slowed to about the speed that I was going. He terrified me about as much as the weather did. I was pretty mad at him for what seemed to be his recklessness.

Then I realized - he was doing this for me. He was using his truck as a shield for me so that the snow wouldn't blind me, the wind wouldn't try to throw me from the road.  I stayed behind him, protected, as we made our way down the mountain. He was in a sturdy truck and didn't have to go so slow - but I did, and he was staying with me until we got out of the storm.  I realized the truckers must have radioed each other, saying there was a crazy lady in a little Subaru who was trying to make it through the Pass, through this storm - they must have worried I would die trying (a reasonable concern) - and this guy stepped up, radioed them all back, said he'd take care of it - he'd help me through the Pass.

As we got to the base of the mountain, and the storm had mostly cleared, he took off. I watched him disappear in the clearing fog and realized I would never be able to thank him, or tell him that I figured out what he had done.  He likely would have enjoyed knowing it, but it wasn't needed.  He had done what he had done because it was what he did.  There was no horse, and I presume he did not wear a fringed vest. But he was a cowboy all the same. I wonder if he tipped his hat in the rear view mirror at me as he disappeared from view.

Coal Mine Canaries

I think of all the people who tried to get the Church to stop - to own up to its failures, its protection of pedophiles over children, over the decades.... I think of all the damage done, to children and to faith...

The Los Angeles Archdiocese yesterday released about 12,000 pages of internal memoranda, psychological reports, Vatican correspondence etc related to pedophile priests (looks to be 124 priests).  (News reports state 30,000 pages but apparently it is 12,000 pages.)  At the same time, the current Cardinal removed from administrative or public duties the now-retired Cardinal Mahoney - head of the L.A. Archdiocese until 2011.  Mahoney will remain a priest in good standing. The current Cardinal - Jose Gomez - wrote in his statement regarding Mahoney and the files: "I find these files to be brutal and painful reading. The behavior described in these files is terribly sad and evil. There is no excuse, no explaining away what happened to these children. The priests involved had the duty to be their spiritual fathers and they failed. We need to acknowledge that terrible failure today." 

The quote can be found in this article, which also outlines the history of these files getting released: http://latimesblogs.latimes.com/lanow/2013/01/cardinal-mahony-stripped-of-public-church-duties-amid-priest-abuse-.html

The files can be found here: http://clergyfiles.la-archdiocese.org/listing.html

I will try to update with articles that analyze the contents of these 12,000 pieces of paper. It's just paper, right?

The Effort

Out my window just now, I saw the neighbor from a block away, making her way up the block on the other side of my street. She is walking through all the snow and ice - treacherous right now, as it thaws in the day and freezes over at night. She does this walk every day, every day - even a day like today, where the walk way is icy.  I would not attempt it.  And certainly I would not try it if I had to use a walker.

I think she's had a stroke but it isn't my business, so I don't ask. I do wave to her whenever she goes by and  I am outside too. She waves back. Even though it takes her effort (as she must shift her weight to move her hand to take it from the walker to the air) - she waves back.

I had never seen her before a few months ago, when I started seeing her walk like this. I don't know if we've always been neighbors and she just never walked before (so I never saw her), or whether her stroke (or whatever it was) caused her to have to move from where she was living before. Maybe she lived somewhere with stairs, and she now needs a single level home. Maybe she had to move because she couldn't afford where she was anymore, due to her health. I don't know. I don't ask.

I told her once that she inspires me. She smiled, and said thanks, even as she was a bit out of breath. It is a slight incline to my house from hers. And she does live a whole block away. She didn't ask me what it was about her that was inspiring. It's pretty clear, after all. She has a walker and she's in the snow. And maybe she inspires herself. She should be proud, for all she's done - how she never gives up, no matter what.

Whatever it is that she has been through, there is one thing I've noticed: she seems to get stronger every day. Every day she walks and, as days go by, it seems as if she is moving just a little bit better - a little bit faster - a little bit more steadily.

There are times when I lament something in my life (this or that) that I stop myself and think: if she can make the effort, than certainly so can I. And so I do. She inspires.

A Gift

I awoke to the sound of a cat hacking something up. It was Alex, not Annie (as I knew where Annie was - next to me, blinking awake like me, awoken - like me - by the hacking noise).  It is usually Annie, not Alex, who leaves behind these kinds of - gifts. This time though, it was Alex.

At some point thereafter, I got up and wandered the house, peering into corners and crevices, looking for the what-came-out outcome of the hacking. I even turned on lights, looking for the leftovers, but to no avail. I sighed. I knew this meant that I would locate it later instead, via the "bare feet" method. It would happen at some point - maybe today, maybe tomorrow. All I knew for certain was that it would come as a surprise when I ultimately "found" it.

But then I noticed Alex crouched in the middle of the multi-colored rug in an oh-so-odd manner. It appeared that he was eating something. Why yes he was - yes, he was. He was eating the half-eaten cat food that he had hacked up earlier. I got a paper towel, shooed him away, and cleaned up what was left.

Lucky, lucky me.

Quiet White

It's Monday - a quiet day at any time, but especially today, the day before Christmas. It's been raining all weekend, melting what little snow there had been in the days preceding. How muddy was Christmas going to be?

Until now. A sweet cover of white snow came over night, to greet this quiet morning. Its presence adds to the quiet that is this day - mutes the edges of the dark (which it is, still, even at this time in the morning - during this time of year)

And now - just now, as I finish this acknowledgement of the snow that has arrived - I hear the sound of a neighbor's snow plow coming up the block. He'll clear a path for me, I'm sure. Yes, it was more than a sprinkling of snow last night.

Newtown

I saw the headline, briefly, Friday morning - but I had no time. I saw it, read it, left it for court. And more court. And unexpected court. All day long.

Then I came home at the end of the day and watched a news show. And just cried. Along with the interviewees. Along with (almost) the news reporters.

My nieces grew up in Connecticut. My nephews will start school soon. Taking the lives of the innocents - unfathomable.

I do not have children, though I work on their behalf - through my legal cases, through my writing. Still - to have children, and to watch the news these past three days ... what people must be feeling ...

My niece is in Paris on a scholarship this year. I noticed she posted something yesterday on her blog, only a day after an earlier posting. When I saw the title of the post - "Newtown" - I realized she had been compelled to write. It is her thoughts that I share here - bits and pieces of thoughts that she has had -

http://jacqueline-feldman.com/2012/12/15/newtown/

Thanksgiving

'Tis the season to remember all there is for which to be thankful...

I just returned from 10 days in the Chicago area, babysitting nephews for a week (they are now 5 and almost 2 and 1/2) and then staying a few extra days for the Thanksgiving holiday.  I do not quite see how parents everywhere manage to juggle full-time jobs and parenting.  While both boys were at school all day (the older one is in kindergarten, the younger one was at preschool) - from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. - I just was unable to be very productive during work hours.... Well, I did get to the "have to" work - things that had to get done regardless of the disjointedness of my time.  And I could have let them stay at school longer than 3 p.m.... but that just didn't seem fair to the lads. So I let go, and instead marveled at the strength and organization of everyday people all around the world who seem to have figured out how to raise children and money all at the same time.

My mother is now in Chicago too, near my sister and her family, so she was a great help in keeping things organized. You'd think she had raised four kids herself, back in the day, so creative she is in coming up with activities for these little ones. (Oh, that's right - she did.)  Each day we'd head to the park after school - the weather was unseasonably warm - and each day the boys would hang from monkey bars and swings and make friends with the children who happened to appear at the same time as they did.  It is like a hidden pact: we have both arrived at this destination (the kids seem to say to each other) so it is time for us to become temporary friends and entertain each other here, now - before dinner. It is not that this pact is stated, or written - instead, it is understood.

One day when we arrived, my older nephew chose to try to play with two boys a couple years older than he is. He followed them around as they ditched him - kindly, never shunning him directly, simply moving away from him whenever he followed them to a new location.  At one point he gave up, and went to play with some girls instead (who accepted him immediately, and let him laugh).  But then there he was, back among the older boys.  They had taken their basketball and were throwing it into the tree (this I saw as I was coming back from changing the younger nephew's diaper).  This time the older boys were happy with my nephew, because he had a lighter ball and could help them with their tree endeavor. My nephew started throwing his ball into the tree and yes, it did go higher. I looked up to see what was in the tree. It was a squirrel. My sweet nephew was attempting to torpedo a squirrel from the tree.  I said his name loudly - he knew he was caught out.  He immediately ducked away, immediately stopped the task. The mother of the two older boys came over and, in a sing-songy voice, said how that wasn't nice to the squirrel, to try to hit him like that. What the heck - no wonder they were a little out of control, if her manner of discipline was to sweetly reason with them rather than just say "no." My nephew needed no such coaxing. It was clear to him that he should stop.

We talked about it later. I gave it zero tolerance treatment. But I also told him I was proud of him for reacting immediately when I said his name, and recognizing that it wasn't a good thing to be going after the squirrel like that. Ah, the lessons that come upon these little ones every day.  He lives in a household that keeps those kinds of boundaries clear, so he doesn't have to wonder too much about them.

Speaking of accepting responsibility for actions.. The little one is very - clear. He wants what he wants, when he wants it. This results in opportunities for ... disagreement, and a time out for him, now and then.  I admire his tenacity. And he is a big, strong boy. I am, however, taller and (so far) stronger. And I'm the one who rules the house when his parents are gone.... After a time out (he only had three during the week I was there - not too bad), I would ask him to say he was sorry. This he was not so interested in saying. It would come out in a whisper - no, not even a whisper - he would mouth it: "Sor-ry." I'd have to guess if that soft breath of air included the word which I requested to hear.  Getting the hug and kiss from him was easier, and I didn't really mind settling for that, as long as he also breathed the "sorry" word. But I had to laugh at his recalcitrance. This ability to refuse to give in at all costs likely will guide him well over the years. To the stubborn comes the outcome - as long as it is done with a certain amount of gradation. I felt honored to be a part of his learning process in that regard.Exhausted, but honored.

And then there was the joy, and the laughter.  We did really have a good time, even if I spent a lot of it in discipline mode. We played with the map that I gave my older nephew for his birthday.  (At one point he said that he wasn't very good with big puzzles. I told him he did pretty well with the map, including naming capitals. He said, "Well, I know a lot of it already," as if I were just humoring him, trying to find a silver lining in the black cloud that is his big-puzzle dilemma. Seriously, this just-five-year-old does know most of the states and a lot of the capitals already. He also reads - whole books - then laments that he's a "slow reader" because he doesn't read out loud as quickly as an adult yet - though almost.  "You're just careful," I told him. Truly, he amazes me.) I happen to have a somewhat decent Donald Duck imitation that I used a couple times, with great results. I'm best at the pretend Donald Duck sneeze... It's very messy, and loud. The last night I was there, the little one started to imitate my imitation. He did a good job! Very cute...

For Thanksgiving, my mom had the boys create turkey centerpieces (using apples as the base and Fruity Cheerios on shish kabob sticks for the tails), and make placemats for everyone, using cutouts of the outline of their hands to look like turkeys and then sprinkling the rest of the placemat with leaf stickers. Getting the little one to keep his hand spread out while we traced it was hysterical - he'd flatten it correctly but then the minute the tracing started, his hand would close up. "No, no - keep it spread - like this," I'd say, and show him. He'd nod, studious - spread out his hand - and then, right as I started tracing, shut it down again...

Here are some photos of the beauteous table that we set:

 

Yes, it was a grand day - and a great week. I'm sleeping now....

Four More Years

I am so happy. Content. People who know me know how much I believe in our president, and how hard I worked to help get him elected in 2008. I was in eight states over 11 months in 2008 - starting in Idaho in January, ending up in Colorado in November. 

This year, I did not do so much - though I followed it all intensely, and did take time to make some phone calls - so I knew that I had done something, at least. Free time was not aplenty this year - and so I had to cheer from the sidelines, knowing that another was the standard bearer this time.  This time, too, that work was rewarded.  Thank you for doing it.

I watched the video today, of President Obama tearing up when talking to his campaign volunteers after he had won.  The emotion came when he spoke of how proud he was of them.  That is what choked him up.

I remember four years ago, the day after the election, walking in to the campaign office in Colorado where I was stationed, just in time to be gathered over by staff to a corner of the room. My timing had been perfect - the president-elect (at that time) was getting ready to be on a conference call with staff across the country, to say thank you.  We gathered and listened on speaker phone as David Axelrod spoke and (I think) David Plouffe. Vice President-elect Biden said some words too.

And then it was time for Barack Obama. We all were so happy but exhausted - spent - having left all we had in the days leading up to election day. And then President-elect Obama told us thank you - how he could not have done it without us - each one. I know I teared up, when he said that. I was so tired - and grateful - and moved, as if he spoke directly to me. 

So when I saw my president emotional this time - as he thanked his staff four years later - I was not surprised. I knew from where it came.  I was glad to see it, in a way - his emotion - that it moved him, to look out upon the youth of today, and see in them the promise of tomorrow.

Yes, the result of the election makes me very happy. And now we move into the next four years.

Flying Turkeys

I did not know turkeys could fly.

We have a flock of wild turkeys by my office complex. Initially we had Tom Turkey (as I named him) and his ladies - a bit of a harem. Then the harem had little ones. And the little ones now have grown up. The whole gathering has become a flock, as far as I can tell. They wander around our complex, with its trees and fauna and parking lot, finding stray seed for food. It is quite a sight.

The other day, I heard a gobble (not unusual) overhead (not usual). I looked around. Did one of the baby turkeys, now grown, find his way into a bush? Or a low lying tree?

Suddenly a large, bulky object ascended to the roof of the building in front of me. It was a turkey. A flying turkey!

This was no small feat. The building is about four stories high, given its peaked roof.  And he just fluffed his way to the top of it:

I kept thinking, "But turkeys don't fly." This was a consensus. Any one to whom I've told this turkey-on-the-roof story has said the same - and has recalled the "WKRP in Cincinnati" Thanksgiving episode - the "Turkey Drop" episode - when the radio station manager decided to throw turkeys from a plane as a turkey giveaway. Les Nessman (the one with all the band aids) did the play-by-play as turkeys were thrown from the plane. This is when we all learned: turkeys don't fly. It was a mess on the streets below.  ("Oh, they're plunging to the earth right in front of our eyes! ... Oh, the humanity!")  As the station manager said later: "As God is my witness, I thought turkeys could fly."

Apparently it is only domesticated turkeys that can't fly.

Because this wild turkey before me was strutting up and down the top of a four-story building's roof.

And he didn't get there by elevator.

And then he stood in silhouette. I presume he did that just for me.






:


And then it seemed as though it were over.  He had walked to the other side of the roof. I had to presume he was making his way slowly down, taloned step by taloned step... so of course I put away my phone and went to get into my car. And of course he was just waiting for me to put away my phone to eliminate my photo-taking opportunities. As it was then that he swooped down to the parking lot, flapping his wings, gently landing - like flying a hang glider, or with a parachute - and running forward a little, as his momentum carried him forward and towards the remainder of the flock.  I do not have a photograph of actual flight. I apologize. I should have known he would wait until my phone was in my purse.

And then here they are, the flock all together - or, as I have learned, the "rafter" - yes, a gathering of turkeys is known as a "rafter."

Soccer

So yesterday, playing soccer, at the beginning of the game, I went one way and my back went another. Suddenly I had a charlie horse cramp on my hip.  ?? I spent the game limping along (unless I sprinted to stop a player from the other team from scoring a goal, and then I would remember only after-the-fact that I have a hip problem).  I mentioned my dilemma to another player. He said he had gotten that before, and knew what it was.  I was excited to have a name for this injury, so asked him to share. "Old age," he said. Ah yes. There is that.

Now I'm lying on the couch with a massive amount of work to do today with a heating pad on my hip and hardly able to move. Uh oh.

Also yesterday in soccer ... I'm not sure I want to confess. Let's just say that I did a public service that involved breaking the rules. I have no regrets.

The Process Of Alchemy

Smooth facade is the surface of the pond and then ... only one bubble.

Nothing Else To Say

Two of the four who were killed in Syria last week were from Navy SEALs (in Syria with a private security company) who rushed to the Consulate to assist. A goodbye letter, written by one of the SEALs' best friends, was published in its entirety here: http://atwar.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/09/21/a-letter-to-my-friend-glen-doherty/?

Chicago Again!

Just returned from a very-short-trip to Chicago to visit my sister, her husband, and their two boys (ages 4 and just-2), as well as with my mom and niece. I often babysit the boys when my sister and her husband have to be gone on business trips. This trip, however, was to spend a long weekend at a family gathering of sorts.

It started a couple weeks earlier, when the phone rang about 8 p.m. It was my 22-year-old niece. She's just graduated from college with a writing degree (emphasis in journalism), and is on her way to Paris in a few weeks for a nine-month post-graduate fellowship project. I know, I know - it's a tough assignment. But hey, someone's got to do it. (She'll be reporting on the squatters in Paris.)

In any case, she called to let me know she'd be in Chicago in a couple weeks, for a long weekend, to see my sister et al, on her way back to the East Coast from Oklahoma, where she was taking a trip... and was there any way I could go to Chicago for that weekend? If I was planning a trip there in the fall anyway...

It worked out. We all gathered. Amazing.

An extra bonus is that my mom has just retired and moved to Chicago as well - about a mile from my sister (in the suburbs, more than the city - I don't know why I always say "Chicago"). So not only did we all have a blast, but I got to see my mom's new apartment (she's downsized!) - and hang up pictures and memorabilia for her...

Friends kept asking me why my niece was going to be in Oklahoma. I wasn't really sure. Turns out, it was a part of her summer research/writing project. There was an interview to be conducted there. She had some great stories from her trip - and brought everyone cool gifts. The boys each got a kitch cowboy hat. Grandma (my mom) got ceramic Christmas tree ornament chickens - two of them - whose wings moved and who each had their own basket of eggs. (Actually, they looked more like roosters to me, creating quite a puzzle about where those eggs had come from...). She got me a ceramic plate labeled "Washington" and showing Washington tourist sites. It was funny, since she found the plate in Oklahoma...

Highlights from the weekend:

-I arrived Friday to a block party at my sister's neighborhood. There was a bouncy house for the kids, and various and sundry neighbors to meet. At one point - and in spite of five adults available to keep an eye on him - my youngest nephew disappeared. Yikes. We looked everywhere for him. Turned out, he was across the street at a neighbor's house, talking to the little dog on the other side of the front door. He so loves dogs. "Goggy," he calls them. So sweet.

-When I gave the little one a bath the next morning, I asked him if he wanted me to tell him a story about a dog. He nodded somberly. (How could I think he would not want such a story?) So I told him the story of Barney Beagle, who waited at the pet store for his boy to come and find him and buy him from the pet store owner and take him home with him, where he belonged. (I loved this book from childhood. I can't find a copy of it now, to buy for the boys. But I can almost say the story word for word - so who needs the book?) He listened so closely. I thought later, oops - I may have put some ideas in his head about whether he needed to go find his dog some day...

-At one point on Saturday, the older nephew decided to do a magic show. He got in front of his "audience" (that would be my mother, my niece, and me) - and said, in Circus barker style, "Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the Magic Show!" His biggest and best - and only - trick was to show us a dollar (that he got from his daddy's money clip lying on the counter), then put the dollar behind his back, switched it to the other hand, and then showed us his now-empty hand - (cheers from us) - then he crumpled up the money and showed us the wadded-up result - (cheers from us again) - and then he asked, "Who wants some money?" We all raised our hands, and then he gave the dollar bill to one of us. See? He figured out how to make money really disappear!! We did that a couple times. I did receive one of the dollars. His dad came downstairs a little later to see - surprise! - fewer dollar bills in his money clip.

-I did participate with my own addition to the magic show - it's one I used to "perform" for my nieces when they were little, and is pretty silly - it's just right for the four-year-old audience, however, and so we performed it later in the day when our audience expanded (to include my sister and brother-in-law!) - We then told the little one that he could perform his trick too. He looked a little oddly at us and - as the report goes - raised one eyebrow as his response.

-My niece was just, and simply, lovely. She was excited about her trip to Paris, wonderfully present with the family, loved spending time with the boys, chased them around the house playing her version of "Monster" - I kind of burst with pride at seeing her be so good and kind - not that I'm responsible for her or anything - indeed, she is the reason that she is who she is. She is as she always has been - a smart, beautiful, kind, funny person. (I need to go to Paris to visit!!! this year.)

-We Skyped with my other niece - her younger sister, who lives in Connecticut - who also is just so grown up and lovely. So wonderful! She has much grace - poise - perhaps because of all those years that she took dance class, I don't know... We had fun, even as the screen froze up repeatedly....

-We also Skyped with my dad where he was in San Diego - the boys got bored early on and took off for toys - but the screen didn't freeze up, so the chat went well -

-My mom's new living quarters had a Grandparents' Day celebration on Sunday. And who was there but a magician!! My nephews were mesmerized, especially the older one (having done his own magic show the day before). The magician asked for magic words - kids offered up "Abracadabra," and the like. Five or six words in, the magician called on my nephew. Personally, I was out of magic words. I wondered whether he would have one... "Alakazam," he said. Well, look at that. Good for him.

-At one point, in the car, Maroon 5's "Moves Like Jagger" came on. My four-year-old nephew started singing it. (He knows a lot of songs.) My niece laughed, and got her phone out to take video, but he stopped singing and we could not coax him to start up again. Had she not laughed first...

Well, and - I did not post in April, when I went to babysit the last time. But back then, it was my birthday while I was babysitting, so I had the boys bake a cake from a simple cake mix. And this was their result - happy birthday, one and all:

Every Year

Every year on this date, at least one news station replays what happened on this date in NYC on 2001. And every year on this date, I flash back - remembering my personal reaction, the confusion and then the heart break, of that morning. I remember trying to locate my sister, who flew to D.C. that day from Connecticut. (I found her - she was safe.) This morning, like every morning on this date since 2001, I think of how my moments of panic were overshadowed by the days and weeks and months (and years) of grief of those who lost their loved ones - of the fire fighters and emergency personnel who did all they could, and suffered because of it.... This morning, like every morning on this date since 2001, I watch the replay of the news from that day, and remember how we just didn't know - just couldn't fathom - the reality that was before our eyes.

Convention Lull

It's been the weekend between conventions - RNC and DNC. I watched what I could of the RNC (sound of television off intermittently, live blogs on in the meantime). Likely I'll watch the DNC in a similar fashion (with a little more sound from the television). I'm not a (paid) commentator, so I'll keep the bulk of my thoughts to myself. There are plenty of others out there who opine continuously for the rest of us. I will say two things, though. First, I was mightily impressed to see, in a 12-or-so-hour turnaround, a two-minute web ad from the Obama campaign that clearly pointed out the inaccuracies ("lies, if you will") in Paul Ryan's acceptance speech from Wednesday night. Second - I did "like" the Facebook page of "Invisible Obama." That's just funny.