My son's school had a "Lockdown Drill" today, to prepare the students in case of emergency. It's all very necessary, I'm sure — yet there's a part of me that can't help but feel that Kindergarten should be free from such worries.
Then again, I'm just old enough to remember being led to the basement during a drill — though I was much too young to know that this was supposed to offer shelter against the threat of an atomic blast. (I must have missed the era of "Duck and Cover" — by the time I started school, it had been determined that a desk wasn't going to offer much in the way of protection.)
He's much too young to have any such concerns. As it should be.
28 February 2008
Popcorn
Today I learned (from a girl in my son's after-school class) of the legend associated with popcorn — as the story goes, each kernel houses of a small demon. When it gets to be too hot, the demon flees, which causes the kernel of popcorn to explode!
Opt Out
I've found a web site that will automate the process of contacting the companies that send you catalogs by mail that you no longer want to receive — I've been eagerly adding them to an "opt out" list as fast as I can find them around the house. There might have been a time when I actually enjoyed looking through them from time to time — but now most are little more than a nuisance, to be tossed into the recycling bin just as soon as they arrive.
Unless they're book catalogs, of course.
Unless they're book catalogs, of course.
27 February 2008
School
I had a dream, the other night. I'm no longer sure of the details — days have passed, and the nature of my dreams is inevitably less than transparent, anyway — but I have this vague recollection of seeing people I used to go to school with.
I always felt somewhat isolated from my classmates — that's partly because of who I am, but this was a very small class in a private school, and most of the students had already spent years together there. And we didn't seem to have much in common. I was already beginning to lose interest in formal, structured learning, by that point, but I liked the environment there, especially the teachers. This is the sort of school I'd like to send my son to, one day.
I've been told that I made a very impressive pitch to the Headmaster to gain admission — I really don't remember, but the alternative was this enormous, intimidating public school in a backwards rural area, one that I was eager to avoid. So I must have been as convincing as I was desperate. (I was somehow able to skip the 11th grade in the process, the benefit of having moved from a state with the educational standards of New York to Kentucky.)
My diploma has long since been misplaced — but the each member of the graduating class was given a hand crafted mug from Louisville Stoneware, with the school logo and our names painted on them. Mine sits on a shelf near my desk. (The handle has broken and been reattached many times through the years.)
I always felt somewhat isolated from my classmates — that's partly because of who I am, but this was a very small class in a private school, and most of the students had already spent years together there. And we didn't seem to have much in common. I was already beginning to lose interest in formal, structured learning, by that point, but I liked the environment there, especially the teachers. This is the sort of school I'd like to send my son to, one day.
I've been told that I made a very impressive pitch to the Headmaster to gain admission — I really don't remember, but the alternative was this enormous, intimidating public school in a backwards rural area, one that I was eager to avoid. So I must have been as convincing as I was desperate. (I was somehow able to skip the 11th grade in the process, the benefit of having moved from a state with the educational standards of New York to Kentucky.)
My diploma has long since been misplaced — but the each member of the graduating class was given a hand crafted mug from Louisville Stoneware, with the school logo and our names painted on them. Mine sits on a shelf near my desk. (The handle has broken and been reattached many times through the years.)
24 February 2008
22 February 2008
Snow Day
It seems as though it's been months without, but snow has finally fallen! The months have been so drab and dreary without it.
21 February 2008
Fix
I'm having one of those "I can't believe that actually worked!" moments.
I have several wireless transmitters and receivers designed to send a TV signal over a short range (to avoid the clutter of cables) that I've been using for close to ten years. Each unit has a flat, square adjustable antenna on top, the plastic connectors to which have become damaged over time (as a result of the adjusting), which has affected the quality of the signal. (My theory has always been that the broken joints were somehow leaving the units vulnerable to interference, though I've had no way to know if that were true.)
I also have a few non-functioning units, which were never thrown away for some reason. I think I've been vaguely hopeful that if I examined them, they might be easy to fix — despite the fact that I have no practical understanding of how the components work.
This afternoon, I had the bright idea that I would try and repair the broken bits with non-broken bits from the non-functioning units. It seemed simple enough, though it actually took several hours of disassembling to sort out how everything works, and a small amount of soldering (I'm no better at that now than I ever was). But it worked! It actually worked. Even better, the two units I repaired seem to be free of the annoying interference that's plagued them for the past several years.
It actually worked!
I have several wireless transmitters and receivers designed to send a TV signal over a short range (to avoid the clutter of cables) that I've been using for close to ten years. Each unit has a flat, square adjustable antenna on top, the plastic connectors to which have become damaged over time (as a result of the adjusting), which has affected the quality of the signal. (My theory has always been that the broken joints were somehow leaving the units vulnerable to interference, though I've had no way to know if that were true.)
I also have a few non-functioning units, which were never thrown away for some reason. I think I've been vaguely hopeful that if I examined them, they might be easy to fix — despite the fact that I have no practical understanding of how the components work.
This afternoon, I had the bright idea that I would try and repair the broken bits with non-broken bits from the non-functioning units. It seemed simple enough, though it actually took several hours of disassembling to sort out how everything works, and a small amount of soldering (I'm no better at that now than I ever was). But it worked! It actually worked. Even better, the two units I repaired seem to be free of the annoying interference that's plagued them for the past several years.
It actually worked!
20 February 2008
Groceries
I went grocery shopping with my son today, the first time I've done this in — you know, I can't even remember when the last time was. In many ways, I suppose, it's a sort of template for what life will be like in the months to come.
Robots
My son has been preoccupied robots this week. We bought a small robot bug over the weekend (two of them, in fact), and he's wanted to take them everywhere (though they mostly remain in the car). They're very simple robots, skittering about on six legs and changing direction when they bump into something — but to him they're endlessly fascinating and fun.
He's also eager to show them off to anyone who takes an interest, to explain what they do and even how they work. Some of it he seems to understand — some, he's just repeating what I've told him, but his earnestness is charming and his enthusiasm contageous. I see so much of myself in him, remembering similar behavior from my own childhood.
(At the moment, he has them in a large glass case, which he refers to as his "bug farm.")
17 February 2008
Future
I was told last night by my wife, in a foretelling of the future as brilliant as it was unexpected, that soon we'll never talk about anything else but our son.
15 February 2008
Office
I'm taking the morning off. At least, this is how it seems to have ended up. After I got my son on the bus, I sat down at my desk, glanced at the piles of paper and receipts that have been ignored this week (while I've been working on a book project), and decided I'd sort through them today, but not now.
There are usually cats sitting on my desk, which isn't all that conducive to productivity. (It's not a large desk.) They tend to curl up and sleep on the piles of paper, but one of them has the habit of sitting upright in the middle of my desk, not-very-patiently waiting for a chance to sit in my chair. He sits, staring through me at the chair, waiting for his chance. Occasionally, he'll try to crawl around me, thinking he might squeeze into some imagined space behind me.
I've put beds in the office for the cats, large baskets lined with blankets that are positioned near the baseboard heater for warmth. They're used, occasionally, but the office chair is preferred.
It's a good thing I have a MacBook, or I'd never get any work done.
There are usually cats sitting on my desk, which isn't all that conducive to productivity. (It's not a large desk.) They tend to curl up and sleep on the piles of paper, but one of them has the habit of sitting upright in the middle of my desk, not-very-patiently waiting for a chance to sit in my chair. He sits, staring through me at the chair, waiting for his chance. Occasionally, he'll try to crawl around me, thinking he might squeeze into some imagined space behind me.
I've put beds in the office for the cats, large baskets lined with blankets that are positioned near the baseboard heater for warmth. They're used, occasionally, but the office chair is preferred.
It's a good thing I have a MacBook, or I'd never get any work done.
14 February 2008
Working
I've been working on a book project all evening. I'd finish up a chapter, and think to myself, maybe I'll do just one more (how long can that take?), and then I'll quit for the night. But that one chapter becomes another, and another — and before long I've finished an additional three or four, and suddenly, it's two hours later!
I should have been asleep hours ago. I'm going to regret this tomorrow morning, I just know it.
I should have been asleep hours ago. I'm going to regret this tomorrow morning, I just know it.
11 February 2008
1:00 PM
Suddenly, it's the afternoon — and I have absolutely nothing to show for it!
The entire day has been like this. I'll look at a clock, notice how late it has become, and wonder what I've done that's taken up the past few hours. Today, it's been almost nothing.
The entire day has been like this. I'll look at a clock, notice how late it has become, and wonder what I've done that's taken up the past few hours. Today, it's been almost nothing.
Cold
It's cold this morning, bitterly cold, though not as bad as I had expected. But my energy seems to have evaporated — all I want to do is crawl back into bed with a special someone where it's warm.
09 February 2008
Ants
The ants for my son's Ant Farm arrived this week. The Ant Farm was a birthday gift, received seven months ago — the form to fill out to send away for the ants has been sitting on my desk during most of that time, waiting to be filled out. (And even after it was filled out, I think it took me another month to finally get around to sending it in.) What can I say? I've been distracted.
This is a Space Age Ant Farm, the Ant Farm of Tomorrow — filled with a bright blue gel that the ants live in (it's also a source of food and water), with an illuminated base that shines a bright blue light from the bottom.
They're already starting to build tunnels, too. Apparently, I was supposed to have made small holes in the top of the gel to get them started, but I neglected to do this, so they've been digging around the edges for most of the past two days.
It seems the ants will only last an average of one to three months, though. I had been thinking of getting an Ant Farm for the office, but I'm not sure how keen I'd be on having to replace them a half-dozen times a year. I think I'll stick to cactus plants, instead.
Index
I'm trying to remember just where I got this idea that preparing an Index in InDesign was a relatively quick and easy process. I'd done it once before, many months ago, and I somehow came away from that experience with the idea that most of the work could be automated.
It took most of Thursday for me to work out how to import the list of topics (which had been prepared by the author of the book I've been working on), and that's when I realized that I'd have to search for at least one occurrence of each and every entry, and only then would I be able to rely on InDesign to automatically generate the index.
It's a good bet I had to do all of this the last time I had to compile an index — I've no idea why it completely escaped my memory!
I probably could have sent the task back to the author, but I promised I would do it. I should be finished with it tomorrow, and quite ready to move on to another project.
It took most of Thursday for me to work out how to import the list of topics (which had been prepared by the author of the book I've been working on), and that's when I realized that I'd have to search for at least one occurrence of each and every entry, and only then would I be able to rely on InDesign to automatically generate the index.
It's a good bet I had to do all of this the last time I had to compile an index — I've no idea why it completely escaped my memory!
I probably could have sent the task back to the author, but I promised I would do it. I should be finished with it tomorrow, and quite ready to move on to another project.
07 February 2008
Cactus
My son and I crafted a small cactus garden, which now sits on my desk, in front of a window. I'd been thinking of buying carniverous plants (they're sold in a kit, with everything that's needed and a plastic planter), but I didn't know if they'd work well in the container I wanted to use. (It's a multi-faceted glass container, bought at a tag sale years ago, waiting all this time to be put to some use. The open end is facing the camera.) I'm hoping cactus plants might be a bit more tolerant of the conditions in the office.
It turned out rather well, don't you think?
I ended up with a few too many plants for the container I'd chosen, so I have to buy another, and another large plant for a focal point, and I'll plant the rest today. I think it might be nice to have more plants, when I have my own space.
06 February 2008
Antibiotics
I tend to avoid medication, even when I'm sick. It's not out of any particular concern or superstition, just a certain amount of confidence that's whatever is wrong, if it isn't serious, will correct itself, given time. (It usually works that way — the cold that lingered during November and got progressively worse during December was a notable exception.) I might take something to relieve cold symptoms, to help me sleep — but that's only because I know that a good night's rest will do as much for me as any medicine.
That having been said, my five-year-old son and I are both on a ten-day course of antibiotics, for a strep infection. (You can probably guess who I caught it from.) It hasn't left me feeling tired, as I might have expected, but I feel as though I cannot get enough sleep — if you can imagine the difference. (Even my son has been sleeping unusually late over the past several days.) I'm not feeling a physical need for sleep — not a craving, like, say, hunger — it's more an of intellectual sensation, as if my mind knows that I need the rest, even if my body doesn't feel the exhaustion.
As soon as I get my son on the bus to school, I'm going back to bed.
That having been said, my five-year-old son and I are both on a ten-day course of antibiotics, for a strep infection. (You can probably guess who I caught it from.) It hasn't left me feeling tired, as I might have expected, but I feel as though I cannot get enough sleep — if you can imagine the difference. (Even my son has been sleeping unusually late over the past several days.) I'm not feeling a physical need for sleep — not a craving, like, say, hunger — it's more an of intellectual sensation, as if my mind knows that I need the rest, even if my body doesn't feel the exhaustion.
As soon as I get my son on the bus to school, I'm going back to bed.
04 February 2008
Report Card
My five-year-old son brought home his first report card today. (At least, it was in his backpack. I wonder is he was even aware of it.) I can't remember bringing home a report card from Kindergarten — but then, I can't remember bringing home homework, either, and he's already had quite a bit of that.
It's difficult for me to understand what this all means — for all of the time I've spent around kids, I still don't have a strong sense of what a five-year-old in a mainstream Kindergarten class mght be capable of, much less my son's peers in his smaller class. But I can see that he's making progress, and his teacher agrees. And he enjoys going to school. I don't think he'll make the transition to a mainstream class this year — but I feel comfortable with this decision, certainly more so than I did before the beginning of the school year. (His teacher has spoken of introducing him to a mainstream art class in the coming months.)
And so it begins — the first of many report cards to come.
It's difficult for me to understand what this all means — for all of the time I've spent around kids, I still don't have a strong sense of what a five-year-old in a mainstream Kindergarten class mght be capable of, much less my son's peers in his smaller class. But I can see that he's making progress, and his teacher agrees. And he enjoys going to school. I don't think he'll make the transition to a mainstream class this year — but I feel comfortable with this decision, certainly more so than I did before the beginning of the school year. (His teacher has spoken of introducing him to a mainstream art class in the coming months.)
And so it begins — the first of many report cards to come.
Procrastination
I've been sitting here at my desk for an hour now. I came home from dropping my son off at school (the bus was early and we were late, or some combination thereof), and without even taking off my coat, I sat down at my desk to check my e-mail. One thing has led to another, one link had led to another, and I'm still here.
Mostly, I think I'm putting off the onerous task of housecleaning that comes around every Monday, where the house has been left in a shambles. There are days where I really don't know where to begin, and this is one of them. So I'm putting off the decision making process for as long as I possibly can.
I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to having a smaller, self-contained home of my own — where everything is my responsibility.
Mostly, I think I'm putting off the onerous task of housecleaning that comes around every Monday, where the house has been left in a shambles. There are days where I really don't know where to begin, and this is one of them. So I'm putting off the decision making process for as long as I possibly can.
I can't tell you how much I've been looking forward to having a smaller, self-contained home of my own — where everything is my responsibility.
01 February 2008
Brain
I made my son lemon jello in a brain-shaped mold, which he is now devouring like a zombie. This seems appropriate for a snow day, somehow.