This is the happening

2024

February

Coming soon

2023

November 01

This is what I asked them to respond to in their journals:

1. One thing I learned today

2. One thing they love about their Aunt Lanessa

3. Advice for a 3- or 5-year old

4. One thing I enjoyed in particular

The Olders help out with the Youngers; thus the age 3 and 5 question (they are senior each of these years by a year, so they are passing along the wisdom of their relative years). We read these journal entries aloud afterwards as a family. There is much cackling and laughing. The 13- and 16-year old?…

…oh, I am as curious as any parent to know what’s contained within their journals. But, as I told our oldest recently: it doesn’t matter whether you leave your journal out, and you’re not around, and you wouldn’t know, etc etc. This contains your thoughts and impressions; what is in it is yours and we respect that. So perhaps some day, there will be opportunity, on their terms, to share their impressions of these ages as contained within their journals. But until then? They are theirs.

Except for the 4- and 6-year old. Theirs are ours to share for a little bit longer. :)

October 26 Stuff I need to deal with or pick up or figure out today

Bath lights compressor for heat pump and furnace bit for spider screws galvanized sheeting for shed bark chips fuse for heat pump concrete pillars and…space heater from Costco since our house heat is out? Oi vey.

October 12

House update: got some trim around the window, 75% percent done before air compressor went out. Older kids took a solo trek up north, which included friends, pizza, and Subway, and they made it back safely. Becca got a bunch of. groceries, picked up Home Depot stuff, took boys to story time, and left me with a couple hours to work here solo. That was honestly…really nice.

October 10

Rain, so much rain. Alt-J at the end of a long day, a Spike Lee movie about a certain terrorist organization’s infiltration, boys with their mom, long theater rehearsal, lot of coffee and class and four-year olds journaling and tooting before bedtime. Also, family catch and memorizing Psalm 23.

July 08 : summer of relax

I spent May trying to enjoy the present, but also looked anxiously at the calendar. Once summer rolled around, I counted up the time I would have, the ability I would have to finish (or start) home projects, work projects, weekend outings and camping and new trails and treks and swimming in different bodies of water multiple times a week and starting the Amor Towles’ novel I haven’t yet read, and…

…and then it happens, it’s here, and somehow it’s an avalanche of small necessities and happenings that soak up everything. The time is gone. It disappears, and in its place are plenty of good moments and little memories, but it’s still hard, really hard to do the work, the foundational work, the stuff that has to be done and the stuff that has to be paid for and the stuff that just…you know, like when a water heater goes down, it’s theoretically a choice, but realistically, pragmatically not a choice to choose whether or not to replace it. You replace it. But there’s a cost. A financial cost in this case, and the cost means it affects other plans and other things. And when you have children, even when you try and raise them with some sense of fiscal understanding, it’s still hard because you gotta make up the shortfall somehow, some way, and you pay the piper and shove it down the road to deal with later. But that’s a cost, a price. It’s not gonna go away, kinda like student loans.

You keep on making memories amidst jumbled up plans getting dumped sideways and you…keep going. Sometimes with a bouncy step or skip, sometimes with a trudge and keeping your eyes on the ground because you’re just tired, so tired, and if you look at the ground maybe you’ll see some flowers or a cool bug, and you’ll tunnel vision yourself into having the fortitude and resilience to keep moving, because you gotta keep moving, but you can’t look at bugs and stars at the same time. There’s beauty in looking up and beauty in looking down; beauty in looking ahead and beauty in looking behind. But sometimes the hardest is finding beauty in the present. It’s something I fight for, and try to fight for. It’s not always easy and I don’t always win that battle. I’m gonna go make coffee.

May 30 : 5 things that brought me small joys

1. I got to spend an hour with my brother Jamey at a coffeeshop, unexpectedly. We drank iced beverages and talked of various things. I intended to inquire about the Celtics-Heat game 7 from last night. I intended to watch a basketball playoff game at some point in the last month, but kept forgetting to do so. He is my lifeline to current sports and helps me know what to think.

2. I listened to 2015 Kendrick Lamar in the brief period I had to myself driving earlier.

3. My father, despite being afflicted with an anonymous affliction, is alive. I hope this state of existence continues. Not the affliction. The being alive.

4. I had a wonderful conversation while driving with our Olders about their upcoming auditions. I am proud of their self-confidence, and I am so proud equally of their grace and willingness to bring their best, but also recognize that should things not go exactly how they want, that they will proceed with aplomb and grace. These are things I care deeply about.

5. Meta hit 266. My sell point. I believe in Apple as a company. I believe in a handful of others. I do not believe in Meta. Yet I have hung on to them and have waited for this point. Now I began selling.

May 26 by the numbers

Thanks for leading the way, Nvidia, this week. Up $85 overnight after blowout earnings, courtesy of AI hype and hope. And today: Microsoft up to $333. I remember back in October watching a $16 plunge to $233 after earnings, digging my heels in, and waiting for something like today: crossed $333.

In other numbers, a boy is over 1300 ELO on his second officially-approved Chess.com profile.

In other numbers, a 3-year old apologized after getting home because “…I accidentally checked out five books at the library and you said I could only check out four. Sorry Daddy.” Author’s note: this sounds authoritarian and draconian, and yes, I’m chuckling and happy and all that; but that being said, choosing a number of books for each library visit is basic survival. At any given point, we have somewhere between 40 and 70 books checked out as a family, so having some sort of cap on per-book checkouts keeps things sort-of manageable.

The play has been announced: Aladdin.

May 24 : 5 things

1. Hide and seek outside. Multiple rounds throughout the day into the evening. A 6-year old enthralled with the cat-and-mouse.

2. Drawing illustrations of Elton John outside in the sunshine is almost as good as writing poems about the forest, in the forest, in the sunshine. Good thing we did both.

3. The feeling of a 3-year old wrapping his little arms around mine as I read books with him and his brother, and his sister comes over to join as I open Strega Nona. “I remember that one!”

4. Ice cream bars and Person of Interest, season 3, episode 2, with Becca and Olders. Finishing the last l2 minutes of a thrilling Tehran episode (S2E5) with Becca.

5. Prayers, hugs, and massive support for those we love as they embark on new terrifying and necessary journeys.

May 23

Two ideas I’ve been on a high horse about recently within our family dynamics:

1. When you make your family’s life easier, you generally make your life easier too.

2. Do what you need to do first.

May 11

I work mobile for a morning and listen to some Clap Your Hands Say Yeah. A girl gets out of history class early to go with her mum to check on the status of freshly de-braced teeth. She goes attired as a certain N. Dynamite and showcases an impromptu dance in the office. I am not there but I am shown evidence, and my heart thuds with pride. She and her mom go prom dress shopping and make good memories. I take boys to skate park, where there are many people on a hot afternoon, and sadly there are late-teens cursing amidst a variety of younger kids and sadly, I do not have the heart for battle on this day. We head to library, and eventually are forced to get ice cream cones and go to the park because it seems like we should. We get home. Previous to that, a 3-year old explains to his sister’s former teacher that “I’m a big boy now because I go poop in the potty.” She concurs. Later, we FaceTime with people in Singapore. Two boys play chess on a Simpsons board, another plays online, aiming for 1200 ELO. I head down to field to clear brush after my F-I-L graciously offers to mow. Finally, we close out the day. It is a long one. There are hugs.

April 30

Cleaning laundry rooms and moving washers. Cleaning furnace and water filters. Filing quarterlies. Fixing chainsaws and hauling brush. A 12-year old works on a Uranus poster for science. We enjoy an episode of the last season of The Middle together. I take our daughter out driving to practice backing up and parking. Sunday. What’s not to love?

April 27

The sun was out and the heat was hot. There were grilled cheese sandwiches eaten on the river and fierce debates over whether found rocks were of the sedimentary, igneous, or metamorphic types. A boy sported cape - “so I can fly” - all day long. A 6-year old learned to ride a bike; he explained later that I wasn’t actually the one to teach him, rather “…all Daddy did was let go and I just started riding.” So yeah, basically that. He should be proud. A mom spent all day in formal education alongside her children, then looking at prom dresses with her daughter and friends, accompanied by a 12-year old and his chess pastime. There was lots of reading and lots of memory game. The day was rich and it went on and on and on, and now it is 10.34 and I am tired.

April 25

The sun is out after many moons of rain. Our daughter is driving. A hard drive is having troubles and a mom took her two boys walking and cycling this afternoon while I wrote in a coffee shop and two Olders went with theater mates to see a movie about Super Mario. There was spaghetti later, a memory game that I finally won, and a really good episode of Scrubs. That would be season 1, number 4, in which they learn to deal with death. So much comedy, so much gravitas all swirled up. So good.

April 12

It’s difficult to extricate yourself from an ‘it’s not fair’ mentality at any age. But parenting offers many juicy opportunities for hypocrisy, and one of them is occasionally leaning into the unrighteousness and unfairness and cosmic wrongness of some days. Like when you have kids getting sick, snow coming down, and combinations of cars, appliances, and house falling apart simultaneously while you’re trying to get taxes done and bills paid and a little work done.

April 10 Driver’s Ed, first day

I sat, off-screen, as the instructor D—— and his cohort S—— walked through expectations on Zoom. Notable:

He opened with a discussion of traffic accidents. 33,000 fatalities nationwide, 437 in Washington State, primary causes usually impairment, speeding, distracted driving. I did not note what recent year these were from.

He talked about his sons and daughters. Daughters were fine, but his sons needed to “…be babysat through class.” One of them - his sons - would not listen. He knew he would die in a car crash. And that’s what happened. Two and a half years ago.

He emphasized no cell phones. Not just for driving, but for the driver’s ed class. “This is a singular activity,” he warned, “parents, do not be afraid to take away their phones. We will disconnect students who are on the phone or doing something else.” (note: he followed through on this throughout the course).

“This is our biggest problem in class. We’re not dumb. We can tell when you’re on the phone.”

I peeked on-screen and tried to illustrate the dozens of first-day students. I didn’t get far. A smattering:

He wears Nike hat with American flag in background, in shadow, with his dad
She looks blonde cheerleader, with dad in living room
He’s solo, chewing nails, looks a little like one of the friends on Stranger Things
They are male, I think, with mom in living room, in hoodie
The co-instructor is a sharp-tongued, middle-aged short-haired stern-carrying presence
She’s athletic brunette, hair piled up, with twin mom in study

D——- the instructor continued: “Invest in your teens. Most parents do not invest in their teen and in spending enough time practicing driving.”

Finally, he closed: “I actually have a GREAT sense of humor.”

April 8

I have memories of Saturday morning growing up; many of them amalgamated and blended together. Growing up, Saturday was Sabbath; a day of rest and recuperation from the business of the previous six days. As I am still growing up, I still call it Sabbath or Shabbat, and as long as I am growing up, I likely will. The main difference is that my Shabbat memories from childhood were from the perspective of a child. Now they are that of a parent. I no longer have my dad to flatten down my hair and cinch my pants up my belly as we prepare for church; now I am the dad and sometimes we go to church. That church is sometimes a building and sometimes a forest.

As I watch multiple children’s opinions on their clothes and hair preparation - oh, the hair, this family possesses a great deal of it - I can do little but offer mostly-empty words here and there of advice, comfort, feedback, and occasional admonishment. Switchfoot and Johnny Cash run in the background, master mixing into a score and soundtrack also filled with Veggie Tales and the beautiful clamor of multiple voices rising and climbing atop one another in angelic choruses of praise and harmony. Basically what I’m saying is that it’s super easy and not chaotic at all. I watch our 6-year old carefully twist and turn his hair in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, trying to get his hair just right (“I don’t like the plump in front”) as he grins with delight and self-consciousness, and then both his older and younger brother come up demanding the brush, and their sister groans on looking at the tangly mass of blond her 3-year old brother has frizzed out in a self-driven attempt to make his hair look more beautiful like his mother; the dress she’s wearing is from her mother that came via her aunt and she looks stunning and quite not dissimilar to her mother a quarter century ago and still a bit now.

This is Sabbath morning, and it is loud and since I will love it someday, I’m trying to love it now. But first I need to clean up avocado toast off the floor, reheat my coffee, and perhaps sneak in a chapter of the book I’m reading about Mary Magdalene not wearing eyeshadow. Mazel tov, a joyous Shabbat, live long and prosper.

March 21

A car goes out. Another car goes out. Becca waits and waits with two children while the price tag goes up, up, up for wheel bearings gone wrong. The sun beats down. I drive her car. It goes dead. Battery issue. A half dozen folks later, I finally get a jump. Cold coffee and a little writing, finally. I speak to Jonny and feel better. There is rehearsal. Play mobiles at home and tired boys. An older boy has the internet go down right as he’s winning an important chess match. This happens as I’m working on a car. I feel I am empathetic and kind. I hope so. It is a long day.

March 17

Theater ad hoc rehearsals; scheduling shenanigans and rescheduled band concerts lead to upheaval a week before curtain goes up. In the meantime, some boys and I picnic at the skatepark, read a half dozen books at the library and pick up four times that to take home, and meet up with the Countess, whereupon she takes them to Costco for groceries and ice cream. They appear to be in heaven. Previous to that, our daughter struggled with the pronunciation of “peculiar,” and it was hilarious. I am generally the errant word-pronouncer in the family. I had some vigorous discussion with a couple high school seniors, W- and E-, concerning Navy SEALS, Army Corps of Engineers, Nassim Taleb, and summarizing versus synthesizing. Becca had homemade pizza and salad waiting when we arrived home.

March 13

Waiting in rain, post-vegetarian hot dogs at a big box Swedish store, post-rain-soaked micro-hike, post-add another two dozen books to the mix library trek; two boys and a dad in a foggy white old vehicle with clouds dropping tankfuls on a Monday post-Oscars. My eyelids drop.

March 05

Sundays are tough. They provide plentiful opportunities for see-saw emotions, goals set and goals missed, and colliding visions of what balance of productivity and leisure a family of six might do with their time on the day before a hefty Monday. But it was decent. And cold. Had help from three outside for the morning, trimming, pruning, and using his beloved pocket knife. Watched a couple Oscar nominee animated shorts - The Ice Merchants and The Ostrich.

February 24

I got to help out with opening arguments for a mock trial coming up - and when I say ‘help out,’ what I mean is that I provided some feedback and minimal suggestions. Got Becca off to work and down a frozen mountain. Some Greek and Latin with my oldest boy. Talked about two qualities of every argument: a conclusion and a premise. Played some chess, did some sledding and snow battles, had some monologic diatribes about how everyone needs to pick up and put away stuff when they get it out, and…let’s see, yep, it was a Friday.

February 17

These weeks dance like Gene Kelly, though not with the same consistent panache. Got Moby and Pacific Void Choir going on a Friday night as all slumber in various rooms; three of whom are in the living room as Phil Glass plunks in the background. Reviewed some times tables, threw our Friday go-bags together, hit the library and East Fork Lewis, gathered rocks and books, listened to a 3-year old soprano sing Annie songs as the sun set, returned home to sweet potato curry hot and ready from the Countess, enjoyed a FaceTime with Jonny as he informed me of upcoming memorial plans and our involvement.

February 13

The sun was murdered by the deluge dumping down upon the fern-filled forest of Yale Lake, as some amongst us searched for salamanders and minotaurs on this gray day immersed in green. I write this with a steady diet of Kings of Leon running. Jonny is just calling to say goodnight as he’s walking in snow, in sandals, to get the mail. My father-in-law joined us for dinner.

February 09

There was crispy sun on a winter day, and I helped out in mathematics, and spoke to multiple people for short interchanges. I did some writing at a coffee shop. Becca picknicked outside with some boys and met up at the river for walking and talking and throwing rocks, before heading home for leftover borscht soup and finishing Wakanda Forever, which we are not overly impressed with.

2022 below

November 30

Our 5yo was carefully printing out the alphabet. For fun. I looked over his shoulder. He had written the entire alphabet out twice. Both times, ending in “….T, U, V.” I asked why he wasn’t including X, Y, and Z. “Because I don’t care for those three letters,” he said. “That’s why.”

November 28

Things a five-year old wants to do over the holidays together: go shopping and get a drink and go exploring for things, like gold things and stuff. also, find treasure, have hot coca, look for streamers, and collect a lot of things in the forests, “…a LOT of things, that’s all.”

Things a 3-year old wants to do over the holidays together: go to a bean place and go to a pier by the water. also: decorate our house for Christmas, eat food, and get a Christmas tree.

November 01

Reading, candy counting, Becca to Theater/Taco Bell/Europe meeting with Olders, more reading, more candy counting, The Scare Game, wigs, Odd Squad, World’s Longest Bike Ride with Ten Snack Stops Over a Quarter Mile Round Trip Trip, Matilda, first fire of the season, kick off season 2 of Arrested Development.

October 26

Microsoft drops $16 after poor earnings - or rather, not even poor, per se. $233. Clench teeth, dig in, time to buy.

October 12

It is so dry, and there are are fires close. Not evacuate-yet close. But close. Nakia Creek close. The day was filled with costumes, mathematics, kittens, Octavia Butler short stories, Terrence Hayes shovel poems, Jon Klassen books, and a presentation to 5th graders about Filmmaking 101. I talked to my brother Jamey and he says I need to see The Witcher.

October 05

Wrestling and hide and seek, kittens and mathematics with sharpies, the Renaissance and modern art, Greek review and how to say “you are dumb” in Latin, Ahab and Elijah, Trojan Horse builds and Ylvis dance choreography, mucking a barn and falling off old trees, boys “fully cleaning” a bedroom and Arrested Development before bed. It was Wednesday.

August 28

Children took turns mowing. I used two cards and some cash to buy baseboard at a big box construction store. There was swimming and cleaning and Annie-singing and a five-year old coached his three-year old brother how to use the potty solo for the first time. Some Army of Thieves with Older and a deep sigh and big breath launching into a fresh school year ahead.

May 17 Tuesday

Some boys helped weed. Considering the 3.3 trillion weeds that call our home “home,” we didn’t make a big dent. But one of them announced that it is very quote-unquote fun. He furiously dug deep holes and spewed dirt in 360 radii and occasionally murdered some weeds. My oldest boy wondered why weeds get such a bad rap. My youngest was thoroughly invested up until the point I found a millipede, at which point he co-opted the beautiful little creature and played with her, until finally tiring and going inside to get his blue dress, green sweatshirt, and giant clogs. Becca and our daughter ate hot dogs, did theatre, and hung out at Costco. Oh, and there’s a James Arthur song I like a bit.

May 16 Monday

So tired. There was sunshine, skate parks, libraries, 20 Questions in which a 5-year old kept secretly changing the answer, playing outside, clogs and blue dresses, reading, a YouTube video on germs, and a bit of Forrest Gump, in which my wife noted the remarkable physical similarity of me to Lieutenant Dan.

April 23

‘Hey look!!’

he stage whispered as we loitered outside the sanctuary; his first formal church building in 2.5 years, or almost half of his life…

…he pointed to the art packets and toys:

‘They have Jesus stuff!’

March 30 Wednesday

There was sunshine and rain; we spoke of inferring versus implying and deducting versus inducting. We ate burritos and listened to Shovels & Rope and part of the Xavier Rudd album before Becca left. We read some books and played outside and made plans for summer, or at least made plans to make plans, and looked at the stricken, fallen trees all around us that are being logged, and wonder where the woodpeckers will go. A boy read Hamlet, a girl read World War Z, I read The Land I Lost and Peter Sis’s The Wall aloud. I shot a time-lapse before sunset and the clouds did their ballet thing off to the dark side of la luna. It was a Wednesday.

February 19 Shabbat

There are days where you wake up and you plan for peace. “Peace” meaning a commitment to exist in love and harmony with all and everyone around, no matter what. And some of those days where you think you’re going to succeed magnificently at such a concept are those days where you model what it means to fall short, yet keep going. Even in bleak days there are beautiful moments, and I’m not calling the whole day bleak, but I am saying that I wouldn’t say it was drawn up close with big beautiful brushstrokes all day long, and my dour presence did little, at different points, to inspire jocularity and light banter, even as we traversed bridges and wove amongst trees and drank hot cocoa in amidst tall evergreens. It seems impossible to not carry a spirit of magnanimous spirit for all in such environments as described, but I did manage. There was splayed across this canvas of a day many sharp and jagged lines of distinct colors that added beauty, but I own up as well to the gray-ish mass of black that happens when you mix everything together indiscriminately and end up with something…not so pretty. That is what I carried for my family for a part, and my soul is scarred with regret. But also with scars come learning, and that is the hope I carry forward. We also laughed about many things, including things I had best not write down and let our fragile memories retain portions to tenderly readjust and interpret in the future, and we gathered in harmony at the end to view Haley Mills hunt down a pair of kidnappers with her cat, and then we enjoyed 1999’s adaptation of Tale of a Shrew, in this case entitled 10 Things I Hate About You, and though uncomfortable at times, it was a joy to experience with our Olders, and bittersweet to remember the charisma and talent of Heath Ledger, on earth for too short a time. May I do a stronger job daily of making every moment count amidst the uncertainty of life’s length.

February 17

You might be wondering why Becca and I would be spending a Thursday evening watching Sweden and Canada duke it out in Curling. Yes, the Olympic sport of Curling. I’m wondering the same thing, but yes, we did in fact do that, and I could hear the sounds of Katniss and her bow coming from a room down the hall. I don’t remember who won, and that’s the problem with sports: it’s cyclical, and when it’s over, and you don’t have a strong connection to something, then it feels like vapid entertainment; the empty feeling of heart and memory after you’ve watched a mediocre television show and can’t remember really what it was about, just that you absorbed it and had no particular feelings about it. Except in this case, I got an hour curling up with Becca. Pun intended. And an entertaining phone call with Jamey, speaking about Curling. He is the first person I ever remember speaking of it.

February 09

The days the days they tear past. “Tear” sometimes as in moving fast and sometimes as in moisture from your eyes, and sometimes both.

It was a rich day. Another rich day. The sun was abundant on a February mid-week, and there was much wrestling, jumping, and climbing in a forest meadow; the same forest meadow that also provided leaf cover for us to read a handful of books in the middle-afternoon, and the same forest meadow that provided an adjacent fallen tree to serve as stage while various performers rendered renditions of John Donne, Emily Dickinson, Little Miss Muffett, and a sampling of Moana songs.

There were discussions of vaccines, Edward Jenner, genetic fallacies in debate & argument, Ursula le Guin’s classic short The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas, which left our souls gasping and our minds deeply searching.

Of course there was a teeny tiny bit of bickering, injuries, and general complaints about the injustice and unfairness concerning an array of issues.

Also, Etherium and Bitcoin are finally moving upward at a faster clip. 3,200+, 44k+

These days.

January 20

A wet ride on a lonely highway, scored by Chevelle and Faith No More.

Accounting and number-crunching in an office in a small Coastal town.

A tomato-jalapeno bagel sandwich, a giant salad, a sister working on travel visa.

A wet ride on a lonely highway, home, scored by The War On Drugs and New Order.

Becca, holding hands with two boys as they drop off to sleep; an episode of the The Middle in which Sue watches a scary zombie movie with younger brother Brick while babysitting him and big bro Axl gets broken up with.

January 06

One year ago, rioters and democracy-deniers broke into the Capitol in mob assault intended to support the ongoing narrative of a losing candidate used to serving Power over Principle.

One year ago, I watched on television with our children. Unbelievable as it was then, it has been unbelievable since to hear the justifications given and the way the narrative has turned to persecution and martyrdom; let us not forget that this flimflammer still wields power. How, how?

We spoke as a family about these happenings, and pondered the role of America as “a beacon of light” over the next decade.

The rains thundered, I drank coffee, forgot phone chargers, and made it home safely to find Becca reading and laughing with our youngest.

January 04

Grandaddy’s Levitz and Citizen Cope’s Let the Drummer Kick are unquestionably two of the best tracks of 2002, and arguably amongst the Top 500 Tracks of the Century (so far). Big statement. I continue to dig back a decade or two - or three - at a time with my listening, which means a lot of Alt-J from 2012 and plenty of Elf Power from 2002.

The rains poured and boys DUPLO’ed, dressed up, made mayhem and music, and one begin referring to his two-year old self by his first name this evening. A first.

Took my daughter to Theater this afternoon. The upcoming Lion, the Witch & the Wardrobe production will be cast soon, and she has her eye potentially on the White Witch…

A great Psych episode tonight, in which circus performers, an engaged Lassie, and Gus playing dad are integral parts of the plot line. It has been such a catalyst of peaceful, joyful bonding amongst a 45, 42, 14, and 11-year old over the last year or two.

January 02

Sometimes the day’s dawn doesn’t bring the jubilant spirit of hope and inspiration you hope to manufacture on the second day of the year. But you keep going, and you thank your wife for the good cup of lukewarm coffee you reheated, and you watch the snow melting outside and turning the pristine glistening paradise into a revealed crater-field of mole homes and creature burrows liberally connected with the poop of wild animals making our home their defecatory territory. Some days, some Sundays that’s what happens.

Of course you also get to rediscover old bands you once loved, like CHAPPO’S Explode from 2012.

A boy cares for salamanders and horses, another dances in a pink wrap to the beats of Moana, another builds DUPLO delicacies and castles on the living room floor, and a girl schedules in reading, supper prep, and some room cleaning.

We finish Beauty and the Beast with all, minus a 2-year old so tired he could hold his lids up no longer, and close out the day by wrapping up Fellowship of the Ring with the Olders later than we should have on a Sunday.

January 01 : Shabbat

The day dawned and I yawned, I yawned extra wide as it was 6am on a Saturday - or as we refer to it as it is a spiritual one-seventh of the week for us, Shabbat - and two boys exploited my barely awakeness to bully me into the living room and force me to get irked with them despite their apparent adorable visages (so I am told occasionally). At some point my impatience wore down their adorbness and we thundered our way back into the bed of Countess Becca and slumbered for a short bit longer. Which was nice, despite the two squirming coughing bodies bridging the bed-gap between us.

Eventually the tiny beasts departed and Becca and I lolled in bed to forget reality by watching Christmas videos from a week ago. At some point thereafter, she made oatmeal, and I made her coffee, and we kicked off the year with Xavier Rudd’s Gather the Hands, one of the most beautiful ways to soundtrack any Sabbath or yearly beginning. I have loved her special love of X this past year and his music is a special thing to this family.

There was noise and art and arguing and music and an eight-year old cousin we invited to accompany us to the river on a cold, windy, brutal, yet shiny day. I found some cool singular driftwoods and made a home for them here. It felt right.

There was DUPLO-building, sledding on the remaining icy-snow-slush, drawing with a 2-year old, some FaceTiming with family, and eventually some great snacks coupled with the Emma Watson-starring Beauty and the Beast. Now we’re going to get another chopped off the 3hr58 minute extended edition Fellowship of the Rings with the Olders at 8.18 on a Saturday night.

Two things I’m going to work on:

1. Giving people the dignity of finishing their own sentences.

2. Writing a poem or short snippet of something every day.

And so it goes.

2021

March 05 : Friday

Sometimes you know when you’re doing something wrong, or poorly, or sometimes you simply know that you’re not performing up the standards you’re capable of. And you realize - I realise - that I’ve veered farther than I thought off the pathway I’d like to be on. But it’s not like it’s a giant veering-off in the wrong direction all at once. I realised recently how far I feel I’ve gotten off track as a dad with things I feel I used to do well. One of the big ones being this: I used to try hard to make as much of every day and every activity fun. Simple. Make it fun. Try to make it fun. I did pretty well for a long time. Then the challenges of having multiple people at different ages and phases and wants and needs caught up, and I slowly started getting more impatient. Less understanding, less willing to take extra amounts of time to invest in gamification and simply wanting things to get done. We’ve never been an especially efficient family, but we’ve been an effective one; by choice, as the latter is far more important. However, I admit to daydreaming and trying at different points to improve our execution of the former: to be more efficient.

Here’s the thing: being efficient and being fun are largely paradoxical ideas. Not completely in opposition…but usually, within the context of raising a family.

So I have been fighting to get myself back into a balance of doing better with patience, better with understanding, and better with fun. With making our lives fun. It’s really not a massively greater investment; it’s more of a mindset. Trying to deliberately carve out time with each child, and build conscious and full attention in little bursts in areas they’re interested in. On their terms. And it’s been a really good week. Plenty of the same chaotic symphony - many instruments going simultaneously; the conductor hiding underneath the glockenspiel. But also an energy I’ve missed. A little more fun.

Bubble blowing, bikes, dollhouse on front porch, an afternoon of dress up and costuming, Hamlet, some Ray Bradbury aloud, UNO, Egyptian Rat Screw, Hemingway aloud, reading on front lawn, chalk drawing, cookies, vigorous and lively discussions and arguments, hide and seek, painting, WandaVision, block building, chasing, wrestling, food making…

…it’s been a good week overall.

February 26 : Friday

Mountains and valleys, and man am I glad I like a variety of weather and terrain, because our family, with six at different ages and stages and wants and needs and interests and opinions, represents a dynamic swath of emotional weather and terrain. I include myself, and it’s not a bad thing. The days are somehow simultaneous lightning and quicksand; moving at the speed of light when I want to slow down, and slogging through boggy swamp when I want the clock to tick a little faster sometimes. I’m irked at myself for even thinking that. I want to enjoy and savor every moment to the greatest degree possible. But these days are intense. Not a bad word. I don’t want dull, boring, or Midwest flat. Just intense. Zero to seventy five and there’s no braking on the turns or switchbacks. And I’m okay. Reminds me again and again of how lucky I am to be partnered with someone who can equally love and laugh at our lives. And who digs loud music, wet hikes, and good films.

February 19 : controlled chaos

I subtitled it above to imply an equal distribution of the two words, and I should really like to perpetuate that interpretation. Did I keep all parties alive? Did I keep children fed and minds engaged? Did I do some teaching? Did I lose my patience? Yes to all of the above, and I did most of it with a smile as I imagined how hilarious it would be to be watching dispassionately from the sidelines as I starred in some sort of Three Stooges-Road Runner-Simpsons- Norm Rockwell on caffeine mashup of parenting and teaching. Today’s parental gauntlet mainly involved fifty percent of the children’s army; the one whose lower ranks total two adults whose age is a combined total of less than six years, and the hurricane they constructed in their massive ode to living with enthusiasm and melodic excess. Oh yes, there was melody, and we thundered Shostakovich as we discussed the effect of Stalin’s first Five Year plan on art and culture in Russia. My body and mind are attenuated to a constant track of en garde survivalism that is either making me almost immortal or running my every body system down decades before its time. I don’t know. But I know I ended the day smiling, and I kept everyone alive and made some good moments. So I’m gonna feel good. Despite it being after 1am and knowing I’ll be up in several hours to start the möbius loop again. And so it goes.

2020

December 16 : unplanned

By subtitling this “unplanned,'“ I infer that it can be accepted that when I don’t write ‘unplanned,’ that it should be assumed that we are deep creatures of pattern, ritual, habit, scheduling, and…planning. Go ahead. Think that. Also, I’ve learned that when it comes to automobiles, that things come up that are unplanned. Also, it’s more entertaining when you have to deal with motor car issues during a pandemic to do so with a one-year old along as assistant. I tried to leave without him, but he was frantically trying on shoes and grabbing coats and felt like it was a great idea to wingman alongside, so I said yeah kid. Come on. And we did. We rolled hard, sang some songs, waited in a 20-minute post office line, and wheeled around Costco for a few hours. We held hands and amidst the unplannedness, there was a moment or two. I’ll take em.

November 15 : wet

We hike 365. Not literally every day of the year. But there is not a day of the year that we consider off-limits for going. In fact, this is one of my favorite months to go. Drenching, colorful, the foggy mist of this area’s rendition of Flannery O’Connor gothic. Love it. The trails with some snacks, hot chocolate, and bouncy hearts. And dry socks waiting in the car. Also, Joe Biden won the Presidency earlier this month. The current President still hasn’t acknowledged, let alone conceded. But it did happen, regardless of a certain population’s propensity for disavowing reality. Also, Becca and I have been sleeping horribly as of late, and the reason for this can be contact-traced to two creatures under the age of four…

September 29 : wreck

First debate. Biden Trump. So much worse than I was expecting, and I was expecting the worst. This man is the leader of our country. He not only gave a marketing tag line to new-fascist Proud Boys, he tripled down on his transparent resolve to fight the results of any election which doesn’t declare him the winner. A pathetic, underdeveloped, sad figure who has divided this country like no one else. On the upside: watched with our kids and I love how much they care and are interested in the process. Even if it is a new low.

September 15 : 18 years.

Eighteen. The title of a good Moby album. Also the length of time, in years, that the lives of me and the Countess have been intertwined formally. Today, oh wow, a day that the federal government refuses to acknowledge as an official today, we continued with schooling and keeping alive our four, and somewhere in there found some beautiful moments to do yoga (all six), have some mediocre coffee, make a Grocery Outlet run, listen to some Kings of Leon, play with wood blocks, eat some good haystacks, and start North by Northwest with the children for the first time. A day of days; a unique day and an also absolutely chaotic, frenetic, loud, beautiful day filled with music and love. Eighteen years of that, with some new living instruments added every few years.

September 12 : a Shabbat.

Wildfires all over. Half a million Oregonians evacuating. Currently we have the worst air quality of any city in the world (Portland, across the river from us - and our current air quality index of 500+ is matching). So…an indoor day. Completely. A very strange thing for a family who loves the outdoors. A pandemic? Tough. But we’ve found many ways over the last six months to make experiences outside. Now, we are confined to a couple thousand square feet, amidst a major flooring project and house renovation. Some highlights: several good cups of coffee with Countess, starting the 1978 rendition of Les Miserables, looking through photo albums and playing piano with our daughter, playing chess with our ten-year old, watching my Dad masterfully tell a story over Zoom…and many others. Small spaces with big personalities for sustained periods of time isn’t always challenge-free. But it was good. We are thinking heavily and thoughtfully about how to help the many people affected by the fires.

August 28 : a Friday.

Is there really a possibility this man could win re-election? Are there really those who would, who could, who will vote for him again, knowing who he is and what he represents? It is still so difficult to comprehend, and I love our childrens’ interest and enthusiasm for following the election process and national politics. We are citizens and we must listen, learn, question, and stand up when necessary.

Also, Orville Peck’s Summertime is one of my defining songs of this season.

And Becca and I drank good coffee together at 10pm while we laughed and reminisced about when our older kids were young. The time. It goes. So fast.

May 16 : a Shabbat.

I run our kids hard. Not rough. Not mean (not most of the time). But hard. We go hard and I know what they’re capable of; though I accept wherever they’re at, I also expect them to consistently bring a sense of self-confidence, respect, humility, kindness, curiosity, imagination, and attentiveness to every day. How is this relevant to what I’m about to write? I don’t quite know. I am aware that we go hard. And that often after intense days of learning, education, playing, exploring, working, and trying to get along, one of the bonding and binding activities for family is…film. Cinema. Not mindless television. Of course that’s okay once in a while. But good films and magical movies. I love, love, love how much our kids love a good story, in books and on screen, and how they recognize the joy that comes from plunging into a deftly-told plot with delicious dialog. I love, I love the experience of watching with them - right now we’re finishing the 2018 British film The Bookshop. It’s quiet and slow build and forces you to pay attention to the dynamics developing. But we’re all into it. Well…our three-year old is trying mightily and not likely following it all. 😊 But he’s absorbing some great accents and settings and experiencing the beauty of phrasing, intelligent banter, and the rhythm of a tale told well. Sometimes I’m excited about all the films I still have ahead to watch with them. And other times I’m sad about all the ones we won’t get through in their childhood. But I love, love, love, love the ritual of gathering round and doing it together.

Soon: Big Fish, Emma, Sense & Sensibility, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, Green Book, Roman Holiday, North by Northwest, Searching

April 26 : A Sunday.

I sharply veered off the road yesterday; a sign caught my attention. We rolled across concrete and gravel until we found ourselves with a majestic mountain range view that I had never experienced from that vantage point. A logging access road with no visible ‘no trespassing’ or ‘closed for pandemic’ signage. So we hiked in a ways along a track that paralleled a moist, dark, beautiful, thick forest overlooking a creek. Wondrous.

I left a sweatshirt there inadvertently, so we piled in the vehicle this morning and went to retrieve it. Eighteen minutes. Becca surprised us with hot coffee and chocolate to enjoy on a spectacular vista of a Sunday morning. Then…

…back to work on the homestead. Outside for the day; all the maintenance that goes into trying to keep a house and five acres surviving, or at least from falling apart.

The youngest walked around with a shirt, mismatched crocs, and nary a stitch of clothing on bottom half; toilet training afternoon. He stayed busy with Bob the Worm; a worm was never so lovingly cared for - aside from work-napped from his original home and transplanted fifteen feet away in the grubby hands of a three-year old.

A lovely supper handmade with zest and delight by the delicious Countess. Baked potatoes, beans, salad, sour cream, fresh tomatoes…and an iced coffee later.

A match of UNO was conquered by the 12-year old. Nicknames were revived, though Ejvindr’s self-given moniker is no longer popular: he no longer wants to be called “Death.” Truly the greatest competitive nickname a three-year has ever given oneself.

A mom and her boy watching City of Ember upstairs.

A dad and his daughter watching Contagion downstairs.

And finally, the two of us snuggled up, just us and a bowl of cold cereal, watching the last episode of The Stranger. She is not feeling exceptionally wonderful about the ending. I’m okay with it. Melodrama and overacting done well.

And now it is 11.40 and there is an eight-month in bed with us. I am displeased.

April 22 : Earth Day.

It rains. Yet one of our beloved new family members, Arborvitae #11, appears to be drying and dying. No.

There is discord amongst the student ranks over certain orders given by me, particularly when trying to teach them how to conduct along to Handel’s Messiah. We live in a time where experts seem to be reviled; why can’t they accept that maybe they could learn as much about conducting from me (or Donald Trump) as Leonard Bernstein?

Becca made banana bread, alongside a young chef in a tall hat. Later, she made sweet potato curry, solo, while the same young man danced along to Sesame Street.

I gently kept nudging a nine-year old lad back to various studies as he weaved on and off the…schedule; generally taking detours to draw, illustrate, or watch a YouTube video involving Quentin Blake. Excuse me…Sir Quentin Blake. Also, I went to the post and mailed a letter to Sir Quentin Blake from the above-mentioned young man. I think that the woman helping me was rather impressed with the artwork on the envelope. The reason that I think this is because she said “tell your son that I am very impressed with his artwork on the envelope.”

We played UNO after hours. I won. Then a child won. Ugh. Then I won again, and life was as it should be. Then I yelled them off to bed.

Somewhere in there, there was conflict involving me exhorting certain children to be respectful in their responses to their parents. Perhaps there is room for both children and adults to continue growing and becoming better and kinder people. Perhaps.

April 10 : Assorted (four weeks in).

Planting trees. Arborvitae. A communal family effort.

flora cash. Loving.

A boy wanting to live outside sunup to sundown. Age: three.

Readings including: Hunger Games, Brave New World, Book Thief, Animal Farm.

Many conversations involving a boy’s fear of bees, wasps, whales, and…cows. The spouting of annual statistics over humans killed by sharks (5) versus cows (22).

Backyard camping. Totally worth it. You make the moments and hope they stick forever.

Viewing: Psych, Millions, Homeland

______________________

April 5 : Three weeks down.

So hard to fathom how much the world has changed in a matter of weeks. It’s a Sunday. I count it as the roll-over day for when everything really changed, as it was then that PNW states started implementing mandatory protocols and shutdowns (e.g. restaurants). So here we are. At home.

At home. Like much of the country. Not enough of the country; there are still hold-out states and regions that seem to not quite understand the reality: this virus is not something that sort of magically only affects big cities, or Democrat-populated states. In the same sense that God is probably not going to slam on the brake for you if you’re heading straight toward a cliff, God is probably not going to prevent congregations from getting sick if their pastors are idiots and continue holding (physical) services. Brains, people.

Dear Leader continues to insist on his expertise over that of the intelligence, medical, and public health communities. As always, the interests of his majesty take precedence over those of any subjects (also known as citizens).

Our house, like many, magically gets smaller every week. We’ve had a lot of practice spending lots of time together, but much of our time has always been split between home and the road. Now it’s almost all…home. The importance of nature, the wild, the outdoors has rarely been more apparent. To not be roaming in a three-hour radius of here is strange.

We got out yesterday for a secret hike to a secret place in the Gorge forest that culminated in a fast-moving and beautiful body of water in a gothic-woods setting; there was messy mud and creek-crossings and much laughing; one boy led an ongoing discussion over what creatures were more to be feared in a fight:

Cougars, sharks, or grizzly bears?

No contest.

We started Psych with the older kids tonight, after a long and sweaty day of working outside. The giggles at Shawn and Gus’s banter made it all worth it.

I would be so happy to have all children sleeping through the night. A certain seven-month old has been a source of my great displeasure due to his nocturnal life that has poorly intersected with mine. And my wife’s.

March 22 : All is normal

A little boy watches a slightly bigger boy exercising with his mum in the living room. He watches with great interest. That is his world: the world of his beloved mom, one of his beloved siblings, doing feats of great dexterity. He is mesmerized. What goes on in the greater world currently? For him, for some, there is little context or awareness. Elsewhere, a 9-year old reads The Book Thief, engrossed completely. Later, he will bounce to Prince Caspian; balancing page turns with one hand while eating cold cereal with another. A 12-year old sprawls out in her books and studies. Later, we will burn brush for a fire. A 3-year old will clamber his way to a stepstool to valiantly wash hands independently; a task he will repeat many times over as he deems necessary, and he does deem it necessary. The same lad lies down later; I lay with him while he gains much needed post-lunch slumber. The sun shines. I re-read Catcher in the Rye on the front porch. Today is a day similar and different, and sometimes the world is contained in a small space and you choose what to pay attention and what to ignore, for little bits, at least.

March 18 : Lockdown, day 002.

Woke up to find that non-essential travel to and from Canada is now barred. 45 assures us it won’t affect trade, in a rambling, circular conference in which he takes on the cape of a wartime leader and tries not to sound overly excited. Note: he does, in truth, use the word “exciting” multiple times. Stimulus package rolling through Congress, dental offices closing up for all non-emergency treatment.

Yeah. Becca’s now out of work.

Six kids with the sunshine out, some good books, cranked ABBA and Beatles, a chess match, exploring in the woods, and front-porch art making. The day has been won and we exist still.

March 17 : Coronavirus lockdown, day 001

I do not know how to categorize this day. It has been building up for a week now with various restrictions and changes happening daily. But this is the first full day where bars and restaurants are closed to sit-down customers and a variety of other changes are rapidly affecting the country at a nationwide level, including places and parts that seem to have not been touched by the virus. Yet.

So. A rush trip to eastern Oregon to pick up precious cargo, some good coffee, and a few memories. COVID-19, known better as Coronavirus, has changed the country and world in less than two weeks. Bars and restaurants in Oregon and Washington, amidst other places, shut down. Suddenly everyone knows exactly what social distancing is. No schools, libraries, etc. Gonna go get my little sis in California later this week. Times like no other. Mind blowing. May we be well and get well. All of us.

March 12

Technically, it is after 1am on a Friday morning, not the Thursday I am counting this entry as. As such it is. What is the big thing this week? COVID-19. Known better as the Coronavirus. There are still those insisting it’s not that big a deal. There are also a handful of those suggesting it’s a fairly big deal and something that should be taken seriously. Those people would include the CDC, the WHO, every epidemiologist in the world, and uhh, people who understand that because they’re not sick in the moment, it doesn’t mean everything’s fine for everyone else. Anyway. Tom Hanks and his wife have it. Pulling for them. Also, the NBA cancelled the rest of the season, as did the NCAA with March Madness, as have theaters, public venues, churches, and schools all over. Also, after an 11-year bull run, the market is tanking. Shoulda sold in February. Also, my mother-in-law made another batch of her unbelievable bread. Seriously the best.

March 10

Oh, it the sun that is bringing smiles to many. Including, I must admit, mine this season. I am an autumn and winter person and love the rain and fog and snow…and for the second consecutive year, I think I’m ready for sun and for spring. Crazy. But I think I’m ready. There were things that went well, and other things, and we voted and it appears Biden is besting Bernie in some meh states, including Michigan. The kids are ramping up interest in the proceedings, though two are disappointed that Pete Buttigieg is out, although his impact was enough that our three year old named his beloved stuffed bear for him. Literally. Anyway. Work in my cold dungeon, a (business) phone call with the representative of a certain restaurant in my namesake town, music lessons, library, finish up the wonderful, magical Yesterday…oh, how I love experiencing cinema with our children. And pizza. And I am tired. So may I sleep gently, and perhaps a chunk not contorted between two sprawled out tiny, not so tiny boys.

February 23

The wind blew hard; I largely stayed indoors today, though not yesterday, in which we braved the north highway adjacent to the Columbia and ventured to tiny Kate’s Creek to traverse the wilderness with our wee four. With aplomb and courage we did trek a trail, and ate chocolate at the end, before racing home swing by a birthday event and then watch part two of the nail biting historical drama Harriet. Today? The maintenance of life. Thus it unrolls.

February 05

Not one, but two trips crammed into the library around school and a lunchtime & coffee meetup with Becca. I love, love, love to see our three-year old’s developing relationship with the library and his love for hunting down books. “This is soooo beautiful!” as he walks into the periodical space. Book club (Code Name Verity) that warms my heart to the perfect temperature every time as two 12-year olds excitedly converse about literature from Harper Lee to Veronica Roth. And Johannes knocked off Jason Reynolds’ 300-page Long Way Down in one evening - loved it. I intended to work…but started and finished Joker. Lot to process. Thrilling and emotional exhausting performance.

February 04

It is a Tuesday, and more importantly, it is my little first sister’s birthday. I spoke to her but sadly did not facetime, although we did try, though probably in the midst of festivities. A president gave a State of the Union in the room where he was recently impeached. I hope it shall be his last; his rule and role is a travesty and a wart upon the face of this country. A cancerous growth that has spread; is spreading and needs to have its power to destroy taken away. Anyway. Becca studied and learned with the kids, a task that is simple to write as a one-sentence wrap up of a day, but can be an all-consuming, emotionally intense roller coaster over the course of managing and prioritizing the often-very diffferent needs and wants of four different children at overlapping times. They are fine children. I would go so far as to say they are not wicked. They are full of fire and questions and curiosity and energy and mischief, as befits their ages. We have chosen this life and it leaves us far from couch-bound; yes, we go hard.

January 27.

A Monday. A drenching, soaking, sopping wet Monday in which I did some routine things, such as spend $1.08 on mediocre coffee and get two boys asleep while simultaneously assisting 3rd and 4th graders on a project about the Hudson Bay Trading Company. Our three-year has a megaphone voice made for libraries and classrooms, and a fan base roughly the size of Beyoncé in the early years. A teacher interrupted my conversation with another teacher to inform me that our nine-year old son is going to be in her classroom next year, and there’s nothing left to talk about. My heart is warm. Library, music, cinnamon rolls, finish Doc Strange with kids 1 and 2, part of Handmaiden S2E1 with Becca. I can hardly watch, my blood pressure is squeezed sky high. Impeachment trial in the Senate, looks like 45 is going to skate free, thanks to a spineless pack of lying hypocrites hiding behind…behind what? There is nothing. There is no evidence or facts that are favorable to him, so it is to their advantage to disinclude any further information. Judgment will come. I have to believe. But let it be soon.

January 26.

Kobe Bryant, gone at 41 in a helicopter crash, along with his 13-year old daughter. This has hit me hard.

January 25.

A fast day trip to the coast to celebrate with my mom by taking her…us! We brought ourselves. It was either that or get her a bee car. My dad baked cookies with the kids, we ate hard, discussed the sad state of Mike Pompeo’s ethics and intellect, sang a Bob Dylan song with my dad, and listened to Cohen and Kings of Leon while two watched Black Panther in the back seat on the dark drive home.

January 20.

There is nothing to kick off a Monday like a three-year old assembling 100-piece puzzles in the living room before 7am. I love the ages these beasts are at. 12. 9. 3. Five months. It ain’t easy, not always. But it is exciting. A day filled with MLK’s I Have a Dream speech; one which never fails to give me goosebumps. Followed by a vigorous discussion of his life and legacy, followed by a vigorous discussion of just how Hillary Clinton could have won the popular vote by three million people, yet lost the election. One of my greater achievements today might be my simple and apparently-effective diagram and explanation of the electoral college. Anyway. Lots of wrestling, painting, music-making, puzzle-assembling, reading, and vigorous conversationalizing. The youngest is huge into talking and jabbering away. Love it. Becca and I watched a wee bit of Bombshell; the tale of Roger Ailes and his reign over Fox News.

January 15.

Our youngest hits five months. Snow. Classes. Library. Brief chats with my friends Tracy about Ted Chiang and Daphne du Maurier and Susan about Where the Crawdads Sing, 1491, and Talk to Strangers. I use my Dutch Bros freebie to get a giant iced caramelizer, light ice, extra shot, on a cold rainy day. It is strangely perfect. Family Gardening veggie tasting. Costco with my super awesome band of helpers. A boy doing his best southern Republican impersonations and a girl getting buried in Code Name Verity. And sad news about an old friend whose passing was finally confirmed, via identification in the Columbia.

January 11-12.

Weekend sick. Ick. Becca takes kids for a while, bless her bottomless little heart. Mags and I watch The Adjustment Bureau. A brother is displeased upon learning this. UNO, homework, much praying for snow on the part of some, puzzles, mediocre coffee, start a Tarantino, finish Taylor Schilling’s Family, et cetera. Toronto has two sets of parents to roam with. They watch a Saturday night movie about a civil war hero.

January 8-10.

What is this feeling? I don’t get sick. I don’t. Every three years. Apparently I have not tracked the calendar properly, for it is destiny. I am fallen. Throat, cough, light head, sinus, miserable…and there is a difference between being sick when you can relax, recuperate, and get yourself better, and being sick when four charges, ages four months to 12 years, are your (co)responsibility, with their varying needs and demands. Hit hard.

Also, Iran accidentally shot down a Ukrainian commercial jet with 176 people on it. And Dear President salivates at the thought of getting to take his military to war.

January 07.

A wet mass of rain dropping, Iran preparing for payback after Dear President’s impetuous assassination of top general Qasem Soleimani, school on the Homefront…just another day. Some days are easy, other days are less easy. This might qualify as the latter. But there are always good moments. Such as the wonderful salad Becca made, such as my new gameification of mathematics and history (what is Abraham Lincoln times Rutherford B. Hayes?), and a season 1 finale of Fleabag over blueberries and yogurt.

January 06.

Morning blasts across Monday too soon, and two boys still do not sound good. Forty-five minutes in the rain to drive two to our formal educational institution, where I drop them off in a rare occurrence and head home with the littlest littles. I do puzzles with one all morning, then they both slumber in a pleasant surprise. Back up for pickup, then music. One is not going to represent 7th in the National Geography Bee, the other is in three-way tie with Dillon and Elliott. Disappointing for the former, but she has handled it with aplomb. Whole wheat penne and steamed peas. Captain Fantastic. A three-year with a bad dream who flung himself on me and fell back to sleep while Becca and I chatted on couch. She is now on p. 108 of Crawdad. And falling asleep.

Oh, and looks like 45 is starting a war with Iran.

January 05.

There is the opposite of a full night’s rest, and I must admit we are not unfamiliar with the phenomenon; a phenomenon that is less aberration and sometimes more ritual. But Saturday night was particularly brutal, thanks to No. 4. Poor little coughing fellow. The morn was nonetheless brightened by the presence of Admiral James awakening on the couch, followed by his departure and a meeting with him at Starbucks. White chocolate mocha. Coffee for me; we discuss his White House app, amidst other topics, and I wrote for a bit after he left, with Becca’s encouragement. Arriving home, we eat leftover haystack items, dig into brownies, and discuss mountains and rivers of the world at the table. Three is excited for me to sleep with him, and is asleep quickly. We play UNO, the Countess takes two rounds and the children one apiece. I am not okay with this turn of events. I finish Shyamalan’s Signs with One in bed. “…theas was soo good,” she says. “I think that’s one of my favourite films.” So worth it. A child is restlessly awake next to me while his mother reads Crawdad and I contemplate continuing Ted Chiang’s Babylon. An attempt to lay the babe down is unsuccessful. I am not hopeful for tonight.

Music 🎵 : Confusion in the Marketplace / The Hold Steady (2019)

January 04. Shabbat.

Two children (mostly #3) not yet ready for communing with other kids upon this seventh day, due to continuing leaky sieve of a nose and hacking cough that is pathetically covered eighty percent of the time, with varying levels of containment. Our visitors arise earlier than they may have desired, due to, uhh, having four children who awake early. A fast trip to Steamboat Landing to say farewell to Jamilla; a long rainy date with Jamey at DB - his treat, where we discuss politics, film, and life, and I talk with a couple early teen boys with cameras who are way into photographing airplanes. Cool lads. James picks up Pizza Hut, they inadvertently double the order, we watch It’s a Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood together; then he and I view Soderbergh’s 2013 Side Effects. Number Four then declines to sleep most of the night. Stomach?

January 03

A Friday in which I awaken in a living room, on an air mattress with two boys who are rolling and coughing and through a combination of miracle and Herculean immune system keep myself sickless. But the night is a long one; a three year old up every ten minutes or so. Zombieland 2 kept me going. A worthy sequel. In the daylight hours, a woman worked, kids played and read, and I alternated amongst feeding children, changing children, reading with children, and getting children to sleep, before beginning the process again. My Tucson brother arrived, along with his Cali girl, in time for haystacks and homemade brownies. Becca promised to have a cup of coffee with me, but she is sleeping.

January 01, 2020

Also known as another Wednesday. We get up. Cereal, tofu, coffee, spirits high. High-ish. First installment of a fam council in which we discuss health. The Countess and I take a coffee date with a plus one. Iced americano, hot coffee with whip. The OG3 watch a certain movie with a certain song about Letting Go. The nine-year old still cares for it little. I am called to help with phones, Apple ID recovery issues, and to move an outdoor swing for a second time this week. Burritos and the children’s’ first rated R: Captain Fantastic. Minus two. Becca giggling the whole way and eyeing me every time Viggo’s on screen. And thus it is. A first day. Oh, and the sweetest little sick three-year old you ever did know.

2019 (below)

December 31

A decade comes to a close. A meeting at cascade coffeehouse to keep the coffers not empty. A stop by a roaring river in the drenching rain that leaves me exhilarated. Sick children. Peanut Butter Falcon with a sister, two mothers, some mini pizzas, and my beloved immediates. The year ends, the next begins. And thus it goes.

December 30

Sick girl sidelined. A nine-year old boy who steps up big time and helps out. A fresh three-year with exponentially evolving command of language and humor. A four-month old who wants me to hold him sunup to sundown. Or until mom is home. I timelapse clouds and make a good salad. Becca and I eat cake and finish the beautiful and sad Marriage Story.

December 29

Delicious tofu scramble. And some good coffee on a Sunday. House maintenance and looking after a sick girl. Puzzle with a fresh three year old. A niece and nephew who are our family and it feels so right having them here with us. A half hour playing at the river before farewell. Fixing a bookcase. The Black Stallion with kids, Marriage Story and cake with Becca.

December 16

A Monday in which a child must be stripped down in a cold parking lot in order to remove excrement from diaper and clothes, post-consult. Working with children in Mrs. R’s class on writing; one young man not happy with my suggestion that his story could perhaps use some unexpected element, as opposed to having everything transpire predictably. “well the chicken is a fire-fighting chicken, he puts out fires so that’s what he’s supposed to do!” No interest in my help after that.

December 13

A long, long December night leading into a Friday the 13th. Out with a two-year in the living room all night; throwing up but with the sweetest disposition in between episodes. Finally gave up on trying to sleep and watched Shane Black’s take on Predator. Trademark him. Decent. Two vomit episodes today, morning and night, cranking through laundry and trying to school. Losing my patience with certain nine-year olds more than I want to admit, dammit. A very long day, a very slow day, I’m sorry to say I did not grab all I could out of it. Oh, after losing my appetite for a chunk of the week I am inadvertently at 158. Yikes.

December 12

A Countess feeling unwell, marooned at home with two young lads in a reversal of yesterday. I resume coffee drinking after a 24-hour sabbatical, and treat my stomach to a few fistfuls of nuts and accidental bacon sample at TJ’s. The kids in fine spirits, we finish third A Christmas Prince, a certain someone zonked out on purple couch. It pours outside. And, oh yes: impeachment hearings wrapping up in House after 13 hours of contentious lunacy. The lunacy being that somehow our dear president is not in fact the most brazen example of self preservation and corruption this country has seen in power in a long, long time.

A two hour conversation with Jeff and Mick, Trump supporters who “…don’t know anyone who doesn’t like him besides the socialist Democrats.”

Trying to squeeze in a short nap in the drivers seat of our Honda in the parking lot while the rain gushes down. My neck is linked but too tired to care after feeling miserable yesterday with two young boys while out and about and sleeping minimally last couple nights.

December 10

Followup: party went well, our 9-year old son leaped into playing Concentration with the girls, had to run a forgotten phone down to one girl, lots of good treats. Most important: a grateful daughter who relished the opportunity to share her space and family by hosting friends.

The scurried focus of preparing for a 12-year old’s Christmas party. I started a group thread to text the other parents yesterday. All moms. Haven’t heard a peep. Although Becca has directly from one. #dad

Sean from Said the Gramophone released his songs of the year last night. #smalljoys

I want time. A little bit more time and space to focus. That’s what I want for Christmas.

December 09

Impeachment hearings in Judiciary Committee. Mesmerizing. Who am I to judge…yet where do Doug Collins and Jim Jordan belong, but in a special place in cells not far from their idol, his royalty the Donald, for crimes against rule of law, truth, and basic human decency?

A two year old not feeling well, so in and out of the school and classroom, a short jaunt to a waterfall and snack, accompanied by a too short nap for both and none for me. A fast drivethru dollar cuppa joe, race down to wee Becca for a quick bite (lunch) for a certain three month old, more coffee, crying boys, back to school.

Morning

I hope I can learn to love Mondays again. She was making lunches for us all - that would be my wife - and I kissed her. She apologized for her morning breath, but joke’s on her: she smells good.

September 9

I sneaked a few minutes of reading Sophie’s World while eating apples and cheese.

2019 above

2018 Below

February 28

Oh, what dost the Domestic Sword of Damocles appear to be today? Let’s see, there’s a warranty for something to research or fill out or find or do something with, and it’s very important. Need to get recycling together, which is very important to ensure the survival of the planet before we can figure out a way to hitchhike to Mars. Got some dishes today, which reminds me that our dishwasher is probably out of warranty, and therefore probably going to start breaking soon. Let’s see, on the to-do list there’s something about our entryway, which probably means clearing a path that a fire marshal wouldn’t frown on for getting in and out. Honestly, that one might be above my pay grade. I think there’s also stuff to pay having to do with mortgage and car, but I don’t see those as being top priority. Basically a wide open schedule! Oh wait, there’s also the kids. I should see what they’re up to today and if they need me for anything at all. I’m guessing not?

2018 Above

2017 Below

2017 Above

2016 Below

2016 Above

2015 Below

2015 Above

2014 BeloW

May 13, a Tuesday, a few things did and done

Visited my Grandpa-in-Law at the hospital. He is doing well and should remain cantankerous and lovable for a great while to come.

Was on the other side of the lens, doing an interview, alongside Countess Becca, with Lanessa and Mindy, regarding relationships, love, romance, marriage, and such things. We make quite the duo.

The Countess successfully passed her CPR class, or as I like to call it “Accelerated Med School.” Good work, Doctor Becca.

I took Jamey to the airport, generously and self-sacrificially returning him to another state. We can’t hog him here indefinitely. But I want to. He is such a joyful presence.

May 8, a Thursday, 10.08pm

It has been kind of a rotten week.
Rather rotten thing to say. But it has.
There have been good things. primarily involving my family,
but overall: a non-productive, frustrating, just…tough week.

Also, got rear-ended at Mill Plain this afternoon. White, brand-new F150. Let him go; I am so tired of fighting and being conflict and standing my ground.

The kids reminded me last night, when I was racing through goodnight prayer:

Daddy, you forgot to pray for the people in Syria and the Ukraine!

Reality in the face. Help me to remember these moments.

Becca has been obsessed with John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars. Finished it this morning. Blazers got beat down by San Antonio again. Down 2-0. Only thing to do: listen to Hole’s Violet. I’m not sure what the connective tissue is on that. It’s just a great song.

January 31, a Shabbat

R———— for SS, City for church. Parents + 1985 bro at hotel watching football. Lunch at Cafe Yumm. Watched Lady and the Tramp with our friends the W——— in the evening, along with popcorn and apple slices. Later with Becca: Shameless, S3, episodes 1-3.

2014 Above

2013 Below

2013 Above

2012 Below

June 1, a Friday

I’m reading Jennifer Egan’s The Keep…
and James Dashner’s The Death Cure…
and Michael Bierut’s Seventy-nine Short Essays About Design.

I’m a book-dancer; I like to read, set aside, let it sit while I absorb for a bit, then go back to.

Went to Oregon Children Theater’s production of If You Give a Mouse a Cookie with my SIL, nephew and daughter. She loved it; I believe we all did. :)

It’s pushing midnight. In bed. I have a bride who is sick. Me too, less so. Joseph Arthur on earphones.

March 7

I like to make big deals out of little things.

Like falling over backwards when my daughter tells me the handle fell off her spoon.

January 17 with a 4-year old

She wanted me to snuggle with her last night.

“I hope it takes a long time for me to warm up so you’ll stay and snuggle with me longer.”

This request did not trouble me terribly.

2012 Above

2011 BELOW

November 4

Short, high-pitched, self-aware wit. That girl of ours. Love it. Love her.

Dave Sedaris at Arlene Schnitzer. Rain dumping, racing through flashing crosswalks, trying to guide my wife’s body, hand in small of her back.

Merrygoers scurrying around, me, retaining boyish, childish romanticism: ‘Rainstorm? Lovers in the city? Pure cinema.’

2011 Above

2010 Below

September 10, a Friday

I love - LOVE - the sound of our daughter belting out “Baa Baa Black Sheep.” Over and over.

March 1 - The Negotiator.

What a pill we have.

Daddy, I want to kick you.

- Uh, no, we do not kick!

No, I will just kick you gently.

February 6, casual pronouncements

‘Mama’s hot…sexy Mama,’ she casually announces, unprompted, as Becca walks into Grocery Outlet, luscious bosoms filling out her tank top. Yes, I murmured. Yes, she is.

2010 Above

2009 Below

December 14, a sports day?

Hey, we need to get you some socks, I informed her.

Okay, she said, in 2-year old monotone. First we will get me some socks. Then we will go play basketball.

Okay. I said. That is a solid plan.

Also, she’s very excited about learning the Presidents. “Will you help me learn them?” Has 12-15 of them down.

Dancing to Horse Music (Man from Snowy River) until she’s almost asleep, then I lay her down to snuggle with Becca on our legendary animal couch.

December 10, a Thursday, 11.27pm

First time hearing a heartbeat!

Very, very cold. Supposed to be snow and ice coming in. Stocked up on wood, at the expense of my hands, which are cracked open and bleeding.

PAA lost tonight to De LaSalle. Jeremy had 20+.

Nov 30 / Dec 1, 12.55am

I just rabbit-rabbited Becca. What a good feeling. Her irritation is evident.

November 22, 5.22pm

Loves - LOVES - watching and listening to her uncle sing. Current favorite: a cover of “I’ve Just Seen a Face” on guitar. “I like it when he goes ‘la la la!”

He wasn’t around earlier, so she trudged her 28-month body across the living room, sighed, and said “I’m going to go sit on my animal couch…Daddy would you mind handing me my iTouch?”

November 1, 8.41pm

It is windy and cold. I have so much to do still. Starting with the garage.

October 25, Sunday

Hawaiian Air. A LONG flight. A daughter who is unafraid of raising her opinion, loudly, in a public forum.

“Public” meaning a commercial airliner.

She has done well, mostly. Just trying to find effective ways to deal with some of her…disinclination to obey. I wonder if there are any other parents working on some of these things with two-year olds? I’m guessing not.

October 13, a Monday, 9.44pm

I love our little girl, despite her many - and I mean MANY - emphatic “No Daddy, you do not _____!” (Do any number of things, such as get her out of the car seat). I told her “Noah” while she rubbed my face. A laugh the size of a whale.

A full gale out there. Autumn is here, blowing rough. Jeremy is laid out. Jonny has bronchitis. I wish him to not have bronchitis.

September 29, a Tuesday, 6.14pm

Outside Vancouver Mall, where Becca is buying certain articles of clothing at a certain clothing store geared toward women; a store beginning with a woman’s name.

My favorite line today: “I want to dance, and do ‘do a deer a female deer’ and then dance some more.” (from our 26-month old)

Other phrases of hers currently: “Would you mind…?” followed by a request such as “…looking at a magazine with me?” or “Would you mind…dancing with me?”

She is also into octopus galloping, snuggle galloping, and swing galloping. If it’s not clear, these are new inventions we’ve brought to the world in the sport known as “galloping.”

Her raspy little voice and “r’s” coming from the back of her throat continue to enchant.

11pm
No television tonight. Curry for din-din. Dancing to Queen and Jack Johnson. Humane Society project: done. Today: lots of cleaning, art, dancing, LOT of dancing and galloping, picking up Becca, Vancouver Mall.

September 14, a Monday,

We just got done galloping. She is now in a bed - yes, our bed - angelic. “Galloping” is when I hold her and run real fast. Only it’s not running. It’s totally different, it’s galloping, and also we frequently listen to The Man From Snowy River score while we’re cantering (or galloping) at incredible speeds down the hallway. Or around the living room. She calls me “Dodi.”

“I want to hold your hand, Dodi! We will be brave together!” is what she says in her raspy little twenty-six month voice.

I will hold your hand forever when you want, I remind her truthfully.

Also, I need to fix our screen door and do laundry. And load the dishwasher.

August 1, a Shabbat, 12.19pm

Arrived at a Tri Cities Marriott in the 1.30am range. Becca drove from Cascade Locks on, which was nice. Jonny and Jeremy are addicted to a typing game online. Our girl is down for a snooze. We were driving into Richland, trying to navigate here well after midnight, and we hear this alert, cheerful voice behind us in the backseat:

“Good job, guys!”

July 8, a Wednesday, 12.59am

Post-zoo concert. At this point, I just want to go snuggle with my wife.

July 7, a Tuesday

Sarah Palin resigned as Alaska governor. Huh? We scratch our heads. Celebrated Jamey’s 24th at Thai Lotus last night. Lanessa’s over for the week. Rolling on OC project.

At 4am this morning: “Daddy, daddy, I need you!” Despite the hour: my heart. May she always have some level of need in her heart for me.

July 5, a Sunday, 10.28pm

Watching Seinfeld with Lanessa. Day started off…terrible. An almost 2-year old going 11 rounds with me like Rocky Marciano. Angry ANGRY. About what? Hard to say. About waking up too early? What a pill.

“Yesterday, the stars were popping!”

Baled hay with my father-in-law and his brother. What a pair.

Leanna left. Sniff. A very good visit. Miss her.

July 4

I looked at the sky, and the stars were popping! - a 2-year old girl watching fireworks

June 13, Shabbat, 11.44am-ish, a small college town

A giant church, a locale that feels both massively familiar and intimately distant. Also, a locale in which our daughter just rolled a super ball to the front of the church. All the way from the back. Twice.

She wakes up in the 6am range these days. Including today. Took her on a long walk around the small town, examining leaves and munching Honey Nut Cheerios from her Uncle Josh’s cupboard. His kitchen is looking very nice. Brand new appliances, floor, and countertops.

Church is packed, and she is slumped asleep on her Grandpa’s lap, sitting upright while previously drawing with Sharpies.

Jeremy is writing a song based on a summary/interpretation of The Metamorphosis. I will probably never listen to it, unless it is really good, so I will listen to it.

May 25, Monday, 4.26pm

A gorgeous, stunning day. Joined our friends, the N———-, at a ranch on the river for sliding, wagon rides, and jetskiing - a first for our 22-month old. Lovely time. She shared her (rare) fishie crackers, ran around posing sans clothing, and just had a splendid time in the breezy warmth.

May 1

May is one of my favorite months beginning with the letter M. Two great men have birthdays in May. Lee Long and Jeffrey Townsend. Also, May was the favorite month of Genghis Khan.

It has been said the best part of relationships and dining is the anticipation.

May (along with November) is the great anticipation month. Full-on summer is around the corner. Pull out the bicycles, tricycles, dust off the barbecue grills (note: need to get one), and load up on Claritin.

And, of course, it means Christmas is around the corner.

March 24, a Tuesday

10.10am - Just down for nap. On our bed. Thus far: she wants to listen to Donovan. She wants to read Dr. Seuss’s “Oh Say Can You Say.” We ate strippers, toast, and peanut butter, Joe’s O’s and rice milk for breakfast. “Tickle me Dodi,” she says. I acquiesce.

9.41pm - On the animal couch, flossing, watching House, waiting for a giant render to finish. Today we’ve been listening to Donovan and Queen.

She gets so excited about the three of us playing together. Hopping, chasing, hiding, riding, tickling…

Jamey at the office: has production high, schedule is full, parents are loving it and having him. Very cool.

March 9, a Monday

I walked into the dining room and found her with her eyes closed and hands folded, communing privately: “Dear Gogd, thank you…Eemie* and Anyung* and…Potatohead.

She is big into Potatohead and robots. Cold robots. Today: lots of painting, collaging, and coloring.

Listening to “I Went to the Animal Fair” on vinyl, Baby Beluga on CD, and Chinese on the telly with a 20-month old.

2009 Above

2008 Below

October 06, 12.09am

Jamey took his LSAT today. Didn’t feel good about it. He also ran into an ex’s “spiritual mentor.” This person told him: “You need to let her know you’re in town.” Sometimes, the state of humanity in this intermingled, interwoven, intratangled web of connections…sometimes.

September 29, 10pm

Downstairs, preparing to watch Numbers. Was so tired today. Worked on the deck all day yesterday with Dad. What a guy. What an incredible, gifted, generous, great guy.

September 23

Getting ready to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm season 5. With Jeremy and Becca. Sickos, besides smiling, hyper cheerful Becca. Our daughter wanted us all in our bed tonight, when we were getting her to sleep.

September 15, anni #6

Becca’s first day at her new employment. Stock market is way down. Merrill-Lynch is getting eaten up by Bank of America.

August 27, 11.39pm

I am moving VLM HQ downtown. To a shared space. To happen imminently. Exciting.
Kevin Duckworth died yesterday at 44 years old and 500 lbs. Really sad.

What do you think I need to do…go to Safeway and shoot elk?
-a very, very tired, grumpy, silly, still-vegetarian, animal-saving Becca, making no sense.

Jonny is back. Or “Anyung,” as our daughter calls him.

She is: walking all over, covering her mouth when she coughs, mimicking like a maniac, lounging on her dual animal couches, helping me collage and paint

July 31, almost 2am

Another long, late night. Working on a short commissioned piece by a couple for their wedding. Lengthy day with our daughter, in conjunction. Afternoon in Portland. Family treat at Coldstone on the way back, a $5.40 coffee concoction. She watched us lick and ate her pea crisps.

What a mimic: “Quick! Quick! I need a kiss! Now!” (and she does). Love it.

2008 Above

2007 Below

November 24, a Shabbat

Mike G is doing the children’s story. One of the best I’ve heard.

“I’m going to pull a flute out of the bag…it’s going to make a sound.”

Saxophone and Native American flute. The shire is far away,
menacing, lurking,

“…and SHAME on you parents who went shopping on Thanksgiving!” he thunders.

Kept my attention.

May 1 : To do on a Tuesday

Pay bills and mortgage.
Go on a walk.
Burn pile.
Finish naming 2006/07 photographs.
Paint 2nd color on cabinet.
Finish mudding sheetrock.
Put Cavitron on eBay.
Cancel recycling.
Paint with Vicki - LR/office.
Send office handbook to printer.
One page of VLM site.

March 04, To do priority list

Red room - Cut one piece of trim, caulk, paint, shelf
Daughter’s room - Cut trim, caulk/paint trim, nail closet trim back up, closet storage, check out bed

February 6, To do priority list on a Tuesday

Send out client thank you cards
Transfer $ around to pay bills
Prep gear for Wed shoot with Becca’s grandparents
Rough out layout for client sites
Prep bathroom for painting, caulk downstairs
Probably 642 other things

January 11, a Thursday, 10.43pm

Snow. A lot. Took Becca to work, picked up pharmacy stuff at a pharmacy. Coffee. Site map. Chat with Paul the Screenwriter. Dinner goodbye for K—- at Thai Lotus with Sam and crew.

2007 Above

2006 Below

December 23

Just completed a rousing rendition of Away in a Manger. The Von Long Family.

Josh got in late last night. Burly, bearded, braided.
Jamey’s friend from Brazil is here for the holiday. She seems like a cool cat so far.

Got to hear our child’s heartbeat for the first time on Monday. This kid sounds so healthy, and strong, and funny, like their dad and mum. :)

November 16 - Things to get for our upcoming kid in the next year:

A hatchet
A Very Long Media jumper and hat
Classical CD mix
Sew a blanket
Art tool kit and paint

2006 ABOVE