Road TRIPPIN'

Yeah. We had a 11 hour road trip the other day. This is what hour 9 looks like in the back seat of Hannah . . .



And yes, that is Yaz - Upstairs at Eric's on the radio. Because nothing powers you through the last few hours of of a road trip like music that reminds you of all your 80's high-school angst . . .

Clara: In the Post Office

by Linda Hasselstrom

I keep telling you, I'm not a feminist.
I grew up an only child on a ranch,
so I drove tractors, learned to ride.
When the truck wouldn't start, I went to town
for parts. The man behind the counter
told me I couldn't rebuild a carburetor.
I could: every carburetor on the place. That's
necessity, not feminism.
I learned to do the books
after my husband left me and the debts
and the children. I shoveled snow and pitched hay
when the hired man didn't come to work.
I learned how to pull a calf
when the vet was too busy. As I thought,
the cow did most of it herself; they've been
birthing alone for ten thousand years. Does
that make them feminists?
It's not
that I don't like men; I love them - when I can.
But I've stopped counting on them
to change my flats or open my doors.
That's not feminism; that's just good sense.

Hey! You're not supposed to (be able to) do that!

One of the neat things about our Annabelle Odyssey has been all the support, encouragement and advice we have received from strangers whose lives have also been touched by SB. From just about the moment we shared the news of Annabelle during our pregnancy, a mother in Central California got in touch with us.

She had given birth to twins about 5 years earlier and one of them had SB. Over the past two years she has been such a source of encouragement, knowledge and support. So when we discovered that we would be driving through their town, we scheduled a play date.

The family lives up in the hills above their town and they have enough room to accommodate their own personal zip-line for the boys.

I normally would not post photos / videos of other people's families for privacy reasons but Luke's mom said he would be excited to see himself on the ole' blog so here goes. This is Luke zipping past all his doctors predictions.



Yeah, they said he would never be able to do that . . .

Go Luke!

Jamie Oliver

I love cooking but I had never heard of Jamie Oliver. (half of you are saying, "Who?" and half of you are saying "DUUUUUUUHHHHH!")

The wife, wee-one and I are on a west-coast road trip right now visiting friends and family and just by geographical happenstance, the first three stops on our trip have been to stay with friends that I would consider "foodies". And believe me, this is the FIRST time I have ever used that term with a positive connotation.

These are friends who love people and love to prepare good food for the people they love. Just to keep it simple: Our first night was spent with friends whose food has a heavy Persian influence. Oh, and the lady of the house has actually been hired to cook for dinner parties. They mentioned Jamie Oliver.

Our second stop was with friends who are Italy incarnate. Everything was rustic Italian and delicious. Did I mention that they make wine in Napa? The GOOD stuff? They mentioned Jamie Oliver.

http://www.monticellibros.com/home.html

http://www.escawines.com/order.php

Our third stop was again with friends who have close ties to Italy (their family runs a touring company that takes people on gastronomic tours of Italy). THEY mentioned Jamie Oliver.

http://www.experienceitaly.com/home.php

So today, while I had some down time, I thought I would check out Jamie Oliver's great Italian Escape series on YouTube. I am hooked.

If you like: British accents, Italy, Food (Italian Food specifically), Travel, or all of the above with a dose of humor - you might get hooked too!

Here is part one of episode one:

Oh Yeah, She Gets It . . .

The "Bangles"

But wait . . . there's more . . .

The Return of Odysseus

by George Bilgere

When Odysseus finally does get home
he is understandably upset about the suitors,
who have been mooching off his wife for twenty years,
drinking his wine, eating his mutton, etc.

In a similar situation today he would seek legal counsel.
But those were different times. With the help
of his son Telemachus he slaughters roughly
one hundred and ten suitors
and quite a number of young ladies,
although in view of their behavior
I use the term loosely. Rivers of blood
course across the palace floor.

I too have come home in a bad mood.
Yesterday, for instance, after the department meeting,
when I ended up losing my choice parking spot
behind the library to the new provost.

I slammed the door. I threw down my book bag
in this particular way I have perfected over the years
that lets my wife understand
the contempt I have for my enemies,
which is prodigious. And then with great skill
she built a gin and tonic
that would have pleased the very gods,
and with epic patience she listened
as I told her of my wrath, and of what I intended to do
to so-and-so, and also to what's-his-name.

And then there was another gin and tonic
and presently my wrath abated and was forgotten,
and peace came to reign once more
in the great halls and courtyards of my house.

First Fire of the Season

Good Hair Morning

Not there yet

5 week road trip starts NOW!

"Cup Holder"

So during meal times, this is where Annabelle stashes her sippy cup. This way she doesn't actually have to hold it to get a drink - she just opens her mouth and lowers her face an inch.

Of course, the only way it works is if she keeps her hand in the air the whole time . . . this is the type of attitude that leads you to watching a Green Acres marathon because you can't find the remote and are to lazy to get up and turn the channel . . .

Words of Wisdom

Would You Like A Highchair?

Our answer has always been "No".

Whenever we have gone out to eat with Annie, we have turned down the offer of a highchair because she lacked the trunk strength to sit up un-aided. She would just slump over the side of the chair, unable to get herself upright.

That means we either had to have Annie-lu in her stroller or we (the wife) had to hold her throughout the meal.

Our favorite sit-down restaurant at the Zoo has a strict no-stroller policy and two or three times we have had to explain that our daughter is disabled and needs her stroller. They have always been very accommodating but it is sort of a bummer to have to have to "go there" with the whole disability thing when all you want is lunch.

Well CHECK THIS OUT:

I know, it's a lousy photo taken with my crummy phone camera - but it is a MILESTONE!

That's right, my friends. Last Sunday night, on our way back from LA, we stopped for dinner and got a highchair. Annie TOTALLY ROCKED IT. In fact, she rocked it so hard that she spent the entire meal happily shouting, screeching and screaming at the top of her lungs.

I spent much of my meal with a fork in my right hand and covering her mouth with my left.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Don't Mess with the Panda

The Wheel World: Day 3

The first part of the day was spent at the Spinal Defects clinic. Afterwards, we headed to the mall to run some errands.

Having a two-year-old in a wheelchair presents some logistical conundrums. First of all, I have heard many parents lament the point at which their child is too big and/or independent for a stroller - the main reason? THE STORAGE. A good stroller is almost as good as a shopping cart; you can hang your bags on it and there is a basket underneath for all manner of gear and whatnot. I don't know any parent of a two-year old who would want to do without their stroller. And yet, here we are.

If Annabelle is in her wheelchair, what are we supposed to do, push an empty stroller beside her? That's sorta silly. Then again, neither the wife nor I want to spend the day with a diaper bag hanging off our shoulder. Imagine taking your two-year-old to the mall, the zoo, anywhere, without a stroller . . .

So we picked up this little bag at Target:

It's a perfect fit for the chair but it is about 1/4 the size of a diaper bag. We can fit a package of wipes, 3 diapers, a blanket and maybe a couple bags of snacks. We are DEFINITELY travelling light now-a-days. I am not sure what we will do when we have to start carrying cathing supplies . . .

Another thing that is challenging is time-management. Again, imagine taking your two-year-old to the mall without a stroller. You would either carry them or wait for them - like herding a cat. In Annie's case, we actually push her from behind. imagine pushing your toddler from behind around a mall. Okay, it's not exactly the same but it isn't completely different either.

A couple of times, Annie protested and grabbed the wheels to stop them. Of course, daddy weighs about 10 times what she does so it was no contest. When Annie isn't resisting being pushed, she lightly rests her hands and/or forearms on the wheels as we are "zoom-zooming" from store to store. At the end of the day, everything below her elbows was black from the grime coming off her tires.

This is not a complaint, by-the-way. We are TOTALLY STOKED about the chair - we are just going through an adjustment period.

The errands went just fine. We got all the usual stares but more than one person exclaimed how cute they thought Annie looked in her chair. One stranger in the elevator looked down and said, "Well that's a neat stroller!". We are pretty sure he actually thought it was a stroller.

So that's that. We are parents of a two-year-old flying without a stroller or diaper bag. Sorta like acrobats without a net.

We're hard-core like that . . .

Whoopsie

Medical Update 9/21/10: Spinal Defects Clinic

ROCKED IT.

The day started with an abdominal xray and ultrasound at 11am. Then it was time for the clinic at noon.

The SB community is a small and friendly one. We bumped into another SB family in the waiting room whom we knew and it was nice to sit and briefly catch up. We told them about our struggles to get Annie a stander and they suggested another local organization we could contact for help so I added that to my notes.

So here is the run-down:

Nursing:

Each clinic has a nurse who sort of acts as the den-mother. Nurse Terri came in first and quizzed us on all the loose ends from our last visit back in February. All clear.

Physical Therapy / Occupational Therapy/ California Children's Services:

These gals visit all at the same time. They confirmed that we had adjusted Annie's wheelchair correctly and asked all sorts of questions about her development etc. Annie got straight "A's"

Urology:

The ultrasound and xrays were for the benefit of Urology. The doc confirmed that they looked fine - Annabelle does not have any a-typical problems with her bladder or kidneys. This is a big deal since from the day Annie was born, we have been pressured to cath her but have resisted. We know that the typical age for potty-training is approaching and since Annie basically does not have any bladder control, we have been preparing ourselves to accept a cathing regime.

The doctor confirmed that the time has come for cathing and we agreed. We have an appointment in November to go in for cathing training and we will start cathing then. Three months later, we will go in for a check-up to confirm that everything is going okay.

One of the things that commonly goes hand-in-hand with cathing is a prescription for Ditropan. Basically, it relaxes the bladder so that it will hold more urine which along with cathing allows the patient to better control voiding. So the doc gave us a prescription for that.

Neurology:

Did not see and don't need to for 12 months

Orthopedics (spine):

Did not see and don't need to for 12 months.

Orthopedics (feet):

We actually don't see these guys at the Spinal Defects clinic but we have an appointment to see them this Thursday morning.

So that's about it! We were out of there by 3pm - shortest clinic day ever. The GREAT news is, we don't have to go back for a WHOLE YEAR!.

We were thrilled with the good news from all the doctors, thrilled that we got in-and-out in 3 hours and thrilled that we don't have to go back for a year!

Thank you for all your prayers and support!

Wheels: Day 2

So Monday was Annabelle's first day at home in her new wheelchair. Our house is all one level with the exception of the sunken family room where we spend most of our time. As a result, Annie has done most of her exploring in the family room - a little in the living room and virtually none in the rest of the house.

Annie has basically never explored her own nursery - all she has done in her own room is nurse, and sleep.

Just for kicks, I set her in her wheelchair in the kitchen to see what she would do. She immediately wheeled through the kitchen, through the dining room, and through the living room. I sat at the computer in the dining room and tried to give her some independent space.

When I looked over my shoulder, Annie was wheeling towards the hallway leading to the bedrooms. She paused, did a 180 - looked at me as if to say, "Can I?", and then disappeared down the hall.

I waited a few minutes and then checked on her. She had gone straight from the kitchen to her own bedroom with clear intent. Here is our little one able to explore her own room for the first time in her life (clearly, we have some toddler-proofing to do):



Next, she wheeled to her door and grabbed her pink boxing gloves off her door knob - which is just loaded with symbolism for us.



After that, she decided to check out the bathroom. The reason I include this otherwise boring clip is because of what seems like a look of wonder on her face that she can go wherever she wants now.



Good - Great - Stuff!

Sweet Summer Days

by Dennis Caraher

The summer sun is nearly done
Frost will follow soon
Asters and chrysanthemums
Light up the afternoon

The dew is on long after dawn
Mornings are a haze
One swallow's song is holding on
In these fading sweet summer days.

We flew across the ocean
Some fell into the sea
God will choose what we will lose
Though we may disagree

We come here to be mended
That we may find our way
We pray that there's redemption
In these fading sweet summer days

Summer months comfort us
The sun comes with sustenance
We live for its lingering light

Days slip away from us
Katydids and crickets hush
We drift into lengthening night.

We were once our children
Too soon they will be us
All they ask, a simple task:
"Remember how it was".

We hold them close, we let them go
We watch them fly away
And if we trust, they'll come to us
In these fading sweet summer days

Stars they are innumerable
We'll never know them all
But nature's not immutable
Every star will fall

And one day, I'll return to thee
And all that will remain
Is the beauty and the certainty
of these fading sweet summer days

Wheels: Day 1

So I picked up Annie's wheelchair on Saturday and got home just in time to make a few adjustments and load it into the van - we had a 3-hour drive to LA to spend the night with some friends.

By the time we got to their home, Annie was conked out and went straight to bed.

Sunday morning, I sat Annie in her chair, made a few adjustments to the straps and let her loose in her wheelchair for the first time. The first thing she did was wheel over to an end-table and yank a place mat - sending everything on it crashing to the floor. I turned to my friend, Mike, and said, "Well - she's never done that before. Clearly there is a learning curve involved here . . ."

We went to church and then met up with some friends in Glendale for lunch. So now, for the first time, we were confronted with; "Should we take the wheelchair or leave it?" We decided to take it. Keep in mind, this is the first time we have ever had Annie in public - in wheels.

The WC actually has a mommy-bar that can be easily attached so you can push the chair like a stroller. We call stroller-time "Zoom-Zoom" while we call Annie-powered time "Go-Go". We had a great lunch with friends and spent some time walking around shops.

Annie was all dolled up for church and cute as can be. Not-to-mention that the world's smallest wheelchair has it's own cuteness factor. So there we were, zoom-zooming from store to store and go-going once we were in the stores.

People stared.

MOST people stared.

We sat down at a Starbucks and were chatting when one of our friends scowled over my shoulder and mumbled, "Take a picture . . ."

"What's going on?" I asked.

"That man is just standing there staring at Annabelle in her wheelchair".

So it starts.

Frankly, staring is not a problem for us. We have had 2+ years to get used to the idea of Annie in a WC - strangers are caught unawares. I would probably stare too (hopefully subtly). We had a conversation about how staring strangers is just part of our new normal. Let's just face it, (and I will be biased here) we have the cutest little girl in the cutest little WC - people are going to stare. And it's fine.

But I will tell you what is not so fine . . . .

2 or 3 people walking by would stick out there lower lip and make a pitiful frowny-face. And that steams me. Now granted, these people did not expect to encounter Annie today and so their reaction is knee-jerk (emphasis on the JERK).

But that wasn't the worst of it . . .

4-5 people not only made the frowny face but audibly uttered a pity-ing "Awwwwwwwww . . . .". just so you know, when you see a disabled toddler, put on your frowny-face and let out an "Awwwwww . . . . " you might as well yell out "I could use a good kick in the yarbles right now! Unless you don't have time and prefer to back-hand me in the chops".

But . . . then again . . . they were caught unawares . . . and it is just their natural knee-JERK reaction . . .

It's our new normal - to be stared out - to have social misfits frowny-face and "Awwww . . .". It's not okay but it is what it is and we will choose to spend our energy enjoying ourselves as a family instead of trying to educate the entire population of So. Cal. on proper disabled etiquette (we might as well try teaching the dawg algebra).

But it is an adjustment. And it is hard. And if we are honest, it is somewhat painful.

But it's life - our life.

And we are going to strive to make it beautiful for our little poka-nut (and teach her to steer away from the knee-JERKS as best as she can).

Wheelchair Update (Long Version: Part 3)

Saturday, while the wife was at work, I loaded up the wee-one and headed across town to meet up with the Nunez family. We spent a couple of hours together and the kids had a great time meeting and playing.

The boy in the blue shirt is Anthony, who has SB. The other two are his brother and sister:

The wheelchair was a perfect fit and will accommodate Annie for the next 2-3 years. Oh and by-the-way; the chair retailed for $5700 two years ago.

I rushed to get home before the wife and had Annie strapped in and wheeling around when Holly arrived. The wife came in the door and asked what I had been doing while she was at work - I pointed to Annie in her "new" wheelchair and the wife fell to her knees, covered her face with her hands and cried tears of joy and relief.

So now was the time to make 35 adjustments to convert the chair from 4-year-old boy-size to 2-year-old girl size. Out came the wrenches and power drills . . .

Having never adjusted a wheelchair before, I think we did pretty well - maybe 90%. We have an appointment with the Physical therapist this afternoon to do some fine-tuning.

Annie had her first full day in her new chair on Sunday (and that is a story in itself).

So now, we need a stander ($3000). We are going to keep hammering away at all the applications we have pending and continue to put the word out but having a wheelchair is certainly a "win" as they say.

We are also going to continue pursuing a new wheelchair for Annie. We figure 1) There is no reason she should be denied the equipment she needs so it is sort of a principle thing . . . and 2) If we can get a new chair - we can pay the chair we have forward and there will be one more pediatric wheelchair in circulation.

We are discovering that having Annabelle in a legit wheelchair comes with all sorts of adjustments and social implications (which we will be gladly sharing here on the ole' blog).

Again, thank you for all your prayers and support.

We ask that you would continue to pray for the much needed stander that we will still be working on getting.

God is good.

PS:

The wheelchair has Anthony's name embroidered on the seat-back. The Friday night before we were to get together, Anthony's grandmother hand-sewed the red and white cover to conceal Anthony's name. And that's just about as nice as it gets.

Wheelchair Update (Long Version: Part 2)

We initially met Mrs. Nunez through our blog and the SB group at Babycenter.com. We later met in person at our local SBA chapter.

We have been out of touch for about a year and she had not checked my blog in months (no hard feelings!). For some reason, she felt compelled to check my blog a couple of weeks ago and saw that we were having trouble getting a wheelchair.

As it turns out, her 4-year-old son with SB had grown out of his first wheelchair and they were getting his second wheelchair in a weeks time. They wanted to know if we wanted their old wheelchair!

I called her immediately and she said, "There is only one problem; my son has a kyphosis of the spine so the back of the wheelchair has a custom cut-out to accommodate it".

The hairs on my arms stood up as I explained that Annabelle has a kyphosis of the spine and she needs a wheelchair with a custom cut-out! When I got off the phone and told Holly the news, she burst into tears.

We agreed to meet up this past Sunday evening to see if the chair was a fit. The Friday before we were to meet there was a change of plans and Mrs. Nunez wanted to meet Saturday afternoon (while Holly was at work). I decided not to tell the wife of the change . . .

Wheelchair Update (Long Version: Part 1)

As I mentioned, we have been having trouble getting a wheelchair and stander for Annabelle (previous posts here and here).

So our Insurance denied coverage for the equipment.

We applied for SSI and were denied.

I changed our insurance plan to an HMO (our last plan was no longer offered and this one was the only one without a pre-existing condition proviso). The new plan only covers equipment 50/50 with a max of $2000. We need $7000 worth of equipment so that wasn't much help.

We applied for Medi-cal and that application is still in process.

We applied for Shriners and that application is still in progress.

We applied for California Children's Services and THAT application is still in progress.

We shared our story with our Sunday School class a couple of weeks ago and they almost immediately offered to help raise funds and/or find the equipment needed - but we asked for prayer instead.

That's when someone who follows my blog sent me a message . . . (to be continued)

Wheelchair Update (Short Version)

ANNABELLE HAS A WHEELCHAIR!!!!!

HOORAY!!!!

Thank you for all your prayers and support on this!

The Money Tree

Everything's Better With Muppets

I Love These Guys

How the Stars Came Down

by Pat Schneider

Night. How the stars came down
arching over us, and the only name
we had for them was shooting stars.
Why there were so many was anybody's guess.
My great grandmother thought the world
was coming to an end when Haley's comet
flared across the sky. I lay flat on my back
and watched the night sky falling
all around me and I wanted,
more than anything, never to go home.
I did, of course. They put us campers into busses
and drove us back to tenements,
asphalt and streetlights in the city.
What I didn't know that night
in my bedroll at Sherwood Forest Camp
was that when I got home,
home wasn't my real home any more.
I had a new home in my remembering
and it was dark and safe and beautiful

First Thing in the Morning or "Freaky" to "Life"

This is basically what greets us every morning - notice the splits I was telling you about?:

TMI?:

It's funny - when I wrote the first post about Annie's splits, I couldn't bring myself to post actual photos which is why I used a random photo I pulled off the net. So I started thinking, why was I not comfortable showing photos then but I am now? I came up with three levels of openness:

Freaky: These are the things we have been through with Annie that make our knees knock and tie our stomach in knots - surgery, stitches etc. These things we talk about in generalities - we do not take pictures because it's all too heavy.

Weird: These are the things we talk about more openly - we may take photos but we don't show them (ie; the gymnast post) because whatever it is, it still weirds us out too much.

Life: Over time, some of the weird stuff just becomes stuff - daily life. Things we have gotten used to and take in stride. These are the things we are comfortable talking about and posting photos about.

Then it occurred to me: I wonder if a post like this (one where the wife and I have gone from "Weird" to "Life") totally freaks other people out when they see it - the same way it freaked us out the first time we saw it.

Well, if it does, welcome to our world.

Whachawdano

Highway Robbery

So I am trying to do some repairs on our van and since funds are tight, I thought I would get the parts used from a local junk-yard. Since I have never done car repair and never been to a wrecking yard, a more experienced friend took me to the junk-yard this past Sunday and showed me the ropes.

The "junk-yard" is actually an area about 1/2 mile square and consists of about 30 individually owned and operated yards separated by winding dirt and gravel roads. Most of the yards were closed on Sunday so we were only able to find one of the parts I needed. So yesterday I headed down to the yard on my own. Only . . . . I wasn't 100% on how to get there.

Lo and behold, I took a wrong turn onto the wrong freeway. One of those wrong turns where the nearest exit was about 8 miles down the highway. When I finally came to the first exit, what should greet me but a toll booth. I can't stand these fargin' things. My routine life does not generally involve toll roads. I probably encounter a toll road once every 6 months or so which means when I do, I am caught totally unawares.

For one, I almost never carry cash and that means I have no choice but to blow through without paying and get hit with a $60 fine. Luckily, I had a fiver in my wallet. The toll was $2.50 but GET THIS the machine does not make change - says so right on the sign - no change - no credits. WHERE ON EARTH DOES ANYONE REFUSE TO MAKE CHANGE?? For criminie's sake the machine is full of NOTHING BUT CHANGE.


So I had to kiss my last $5 goodbye just for the privilege of getting off the freeway and getting back on in the direction I came.

I headed over the freeway and what do my wandering eyes behold? THIS @$%#&! thing:

ANOTHER TOLL BOOTH.

Then it occurred to me - this is the first place people can turn around if they have made a wrong turn - they put these booths here on purpose to take advantage of wayward motorists. I am being intentionally screwed here.

So I head past the on-ramp to the nearest grocery store - go in and buy a can of Pringles for $2.50 and get some cash back.

I head back to the on-ramp and this time the toll to get ON the freeway is $3.00 - no change, no refunds. I slide three bucks into the no-armed bandit and head back to where I made the wrong turn.

Total cost for one wrong turn?: $10.50 and 1/2 an hour of my life I can't get back.

Moral of the story: Always carry at least of $10 in change in your car . . . or know where the heck you are going.

At least I got a can of Pringles out of the deal.

Miracle

I came across this cover of an Insane Clown Posse song by Look at the Fields.

Having never heard of ICP - I looked up the song on iTunes - oh, no no no no no . . . .

Trust me, this version is better - and begging for a slide show . . . .

Quote of the Day

I don't want to brag, but I still fit into the same earrings I wore in high school!

- Kim M.

I . . Uh . . . Wha? . . .

Picnic in the Park

D(ing)IM(yself)

I did it, I cleaned out the back shed for the first time in 2 1/2 years. I took me all day but the end result still brings tears to my eyes and brought a round of applause from the rest of the household.

So now that the shed is ship-shape and I can find/get to my tools, I am ready a rarin' to go and tackle other projects around the house.

Today I plan on pressure-washing the deck to prep it for staining. A staining that should have been done in 2008 . . .

Last February or March, we were in a four-car pile-up. It wasn't our fault but we are still fighting with the insurance company. Anyway, the back of the van is dented but the door opens and closes fine - the front is a different story. One headlight was smashed to bits and the front grill was smashed in. The van drives fine but I have been afraid to pop the hood in case I couldn't close it again.

But we have a 3000 road trip coming up next week and we can't wait on the repairs any longer. So yesterday me and a neighbor went to a junk yard, bought a headlight and popped the hood. The hood opens and closes fine but the headlight needs a few more pieces before I can put it in so it's back to the junk yard.

I think I am just going to try and fix it myself - what could go wrong?

Fried Heaven in a Pan

A Difference of Fifty-Three Years

by Noel Peattie

Here is a magazine called Seventeen.
It comes out on the stands every month.
The girl on each cover is welcome
as cherry pie; she's tubbed, pure,
her hair is up, or ribboned.
Her life is all dresses,
parties, and little pink wishes.
She says to the world, Oh hurry,
hurry up, please, and it does.

Here is a man about seventy.
Why isn't there a journal called Seventy?
Because he isn't as welcome;
because nobody wants to be like him.
He says to the world, Slow down;
my flat feet can't keep up with you.
He whispers, I'm still alive.

But it doesn't slow down, the world.
It keeps on hurrying; for, see there,
an impatient virgin is waiting.

(Every day, an old man is buried).
Every month, there's another young girl.

Dinner in the yard

I am tempted to wax seasonal about this being the last dinner in the yard this summer but who am I kidding? This is San Diego - we will probably be celebrating Thanksgiving in the yard . . . .

Bat Girls:


View from the deck:


Nike the dawg:


With a view like this, how can you not have a good time?:

Pac-Man

Advice from a Cartoon Princess

What People Give You

by Kathleen Sheeder Bonanno

What People Give You

Long-faced irises. Mums.
Pink roses and white roses
and giant sunflowers,
and hundreds of daisies.

Fruit baskets with muscular pears,
and water crackers and tiny jams
and the steady march of casseroles.
And money,
people give money these days.

Cards, of course:
the Madonna, wise
and sad just for you,
Chinese cherry blossoms,
sunsets and moonscapes,
and dragonflies for transcendence.

People stand by your sink
and offer up their pain:
Did you know I lost a baby once,
or My eldest son was killed,
or My mother died two months ago.

People are good.

They file into your cartoon house until it bows at the seams;
they give you every
blessed
thing,
everything,
except your daughter back.

Wheelchair Update

Well.

We applied for SSI and were denied (for the third time). It turns out I make too much money being unemployed . . . .

We sent in our applications for California Children's Services, Medi-Cal and Shriner's. I am also working on switching our insurance.

In the meantime, we have been scouring Ebay and Craig's List for a temporary chair to get us by.

More people have come forward to offer to raise funds and we are so grateful. However we feel we need to exhaust all other options before resorting to the "nuclear" option of passing the hat.

We should know where we stand in 3-4 weeks . . .

For now, prayers are appreciated.

Quote of the Day

There is nothing so useless as doing efficiently that which should not be done at all.

~ Peter F. Drucker

San Francisco Remembered

by Philip Schultz

In summer the polleny light bounces off the white buildings
& you can see their spines & nerves & where the joints knot.
You've never seen such polleny light. The whole city shining
& the women wearing dresses so thin you could see their wing-tipped hips
& their tall silvery legs alone can knock your eye out.
But this isn't about women. It's about the city of blue waters
& fog so thick it wraps round your legs & leaves glistening trails
along the dark winding streets. Once I followed such a trail
& wound up beside this redheaded woman who looked up & smiled
& let me tell you you don't see smiles like that in Jersey City.
She was wearing a black raincoat with two hundred pockets
& I wanted to put my hands in each one. But forget about her.
I was talking about the fog which steps up & taps your shoulder
like a panhandler who wants bus fare to a joint called The Paradise
& where else could this happen? On Sundays Golden Gate Park
is filled with young girls strolling the transplanted palms
& imported rhododendron beds. You should see the sunset
in their eyes & the sway, the proud sway of their young shoulders.
Believe me, it takes a day or two to recover. Or the trolleys clanking
down the steep hills—why you see legs flashing like mirrors! Please, Lord, please let me talk about San Francisco. How
that gorilla of a bridge twists in the ocean wind & the earth
turns under your feet & at any moment the whole works can crack
& slip back into the sea like a giant being kicked off his raft
& now, if it's all right, I would like to talk about women...

Just (Blissfully) Do It

So I mentioned before that during this time of unemployment I am considering not only how much $$ I need to make in my next job but what my true gifts are - that is, what brings me bliss?

One of the things that I really enjoy doing is writing (I said I enjoy it - I didn't say I was any good at it).

Writing is an art form and so one must coax and corral the muses. I enjoy writing in the early mornings - before the world (and the rest of the household) is awake. It's just such a peaceful time.

So lately I have been setting the coffee pot timer for 5:15am and setting my alarm for 5:30am. Which gives me enough time to read a chapter in Romans, go through my prayers and then write for an hour. The thing is, I am finding it extraordinarily hard to get up that early (this coming from a guy who used to get up at 4am on a regular basis).

It feels remarkably like going to the gym - or running. Getting out of bed is the hardest part. Once I start in on the writing, the brain muscles are stiff and the words are stilted but then as the fingers get moving, things begin to warm up, limber up, and I am glad I got up early.

Afterwards, it feels like success. If nothing else goes right today - at least I know I got my (writing) work-out in.

Moral of the story? If you have something that brings you bliss - Just Do It.

(I am still not ready to take up running again)

Ode to Summer with an Eye Towards Fall

I will admit it; I am not a "Fair" person. I have friends that are Fair people and they look at me in horror when I say I don't really appreciate the Fair. I have a dozen different reasons but I won't list them here because my dozen reasons for not going to the Fair are the same dozen reasons "Fair people" love the Fair.

But I love the idea of the Fair. And no one I have come across captures the Fair like Lileks.

This is the Minnesota State Fair, if you are wondering. And the video coupled with the music puts a bitter-sweet capper on last season while easing us into the next.

This is late summer, when all that can be done on the farm, has been done. It's a respite before the crush of harvest. A time to pause our toil and enjoy ourselves before heading back into the fields.

I just love it.

VIDEO HERE.

Real-Life Spider Men

The Power of Music

Little Ankle-Biter

Another one of those unforeseen issues that go along with having a child with SB . . .

When kiddos can't feel their feet and are teething, sometimes they use their feet as a chew toy. I KNOW - IT'S A FREAKY THING TO THINK ABOUT.

This has never been an issue with Annie until now . . .

Last week we put her down for a nap in nothing but her skivvies since it was so hot - she chewed on one her ankles. NOW we have an issue.

Annie doesn't have great circulation in her legs so any wounds take much longer to heal. Add to it that she is supposed to wear her AFO's 20 hours a day (think hard plastic boots) so the wound doesn't get much time to breathe. ADD TO THAT that you can't leave her boots off when she is playing because she will slam toys onto her legs, skin them dragging across the carpet etc. It's a real head-scratcher for mom and dad.

But with a little ingenuity, we may have come up with a solution . . .

$12 at Home Depot and an hour later and we had built this little desk for her cart. The desk protects her legs and feet, allows the wound to breathe and still allows her to wheel around.

Of course, as soon as we tried it out, Annie picked up the desk and chucked it aside - that's why we have to tie it down with string . . . oi.

Family Day at Safari Park

Good Stuff

I've Always Enjoyed Her Sense of Humor

by Gerald Locklin

She's an old friend
And I don't see her very often,
But she has a way of turning up
When I'm talking to a girl I've just met,

And she will invariably storm up to us
And confront me with, "where is the child support check?!"

Then turn on her heel and storm from the room,
Leaving me to make inadequate explanations.

This is astonishing in so many ways . . .

Yup - Another video Annabelle is not allowed to watch . . . .

Empire of the Summer Moon

This book caught my eye in a local bookstore. It is sort of outside my normal interests but I put it on my list for future reference and recently read it. I found it fascinating.

The books focuses on the Comanche plains Indians and on the life of Cynthia Ann Parker. Cynthia Ann was a white settler captured by the Comanches as a child who grew to fully adopt the life of the Indian and became known as "The White Squaw".

Two things really stood out to me:

1) According to the author, the Comanche tribe was probably the most lethal fighting force in the world when it came to mounted warfare.

2) The clash between Hispanic and later, white settlers, with the Indians was probably unavoidable. At the time settlers were engaging various Indian tribes, the settlers were about 4000 years ahead of the Indians in terms of technology and "civilization". Imagine if you were transported back in time to the year 1990 bc amongst a nomadic people - you would probably consider them fairly savage.

This is not to say that the Indians did not have many admiral qualities or that their way of life was devoid of anything valuable. It would also be a mistake to think they were any less intelligent than the settlers they faced - but the cultural gap between the clashing cultures was so wide and occurred at such a time (15th to 19th centuries) that warfare between the two was probably a given.

I found the book very honest about the shortcomings on all sides of the conflict and I feel like I came away with a whole new understanding of this portion of American history.

Most of the book takes place in Texas and references current landmarks and cities so anyone interested in Texas history would probably find this book interesting as well.

Highly recommended.

Pink Hoodie

Can You Believe It is September?

Just Beating the Labor Day White Rule