Wistless

I believe Mariah Carey is one of the most talented singers in the music industry today, and to hear her hit the upper vocal registers is nothing short of awe inspiring. That being said, I'm not sure I actually enjoy listening to her lyrics screeched out in the same frequency in which fleas communicate. Mariah Carey fans, sorry to offend. 

In light of my feelings regarding the apex of the noise pitch spectrum, imagine how hard it is to come to grips with the squealing of our own resident Mariah impersonators. That is why I have decided to start up a house Irish band to harness the musical prowess of both Zach and Amelia while simultaneously preserving the integrity of our fragile eardrums. 

In the past few days I have been teaching myself to play the Irish drum called the bodhran, which I received as a gift from Shane and Liz upon return from their honeymoon in Ireland.

Zach is learning to play the xylodrum as my back up rhythm section, while Amelia is picking up the harmony with the tin whistle. 

I know what you are thinking; "Mr. Steve, it must worry you sick for Amelia to be playing an instrument as dangerous as the whistle." 

While yes, I agree that if she were playing something safer, such as the triangle or tambourine, it might ease my mind:  however, in my heart, I know that she loves the whistle, and there is no shame in getting hurt doing something you love

Sofun

I took home economics in high school. If anyone calls me a sissy because of it, I will personally knit a very warm wool sock, place a freshly baked delicious blueberry muffin inside, and bop them over the head with it. My reason for taking home ec as an elective, in actuality, was to avoid taking classes where I thought real work might interfere with my learning experience, but was unaware of two very important details at the time. One, is that it is real work, and, two, it would someday become my primary occupation. Now I'm just wishing I paid closer attention to that recipe for easy cobbler... I can't remember, was it one can of peaches or two?

One thing they failed to teach us in home ec class, though, is possibly the most important aspect of managing a household; which is, how to make proper couch forts. There is a formula which must be followed in order to truly maximize the funability of your couch. Failure to comply with said principles will result in an inferior couch fort experience and may lead to the myriad problems of chronic fun deficiency down the road. 

Do you know who used to suffer from fun deficiency? 

That's right. And you don't want to be like him, do you? 

No, I didn't think so. 

Perhaps the reason it could not be conveyed through a high school curriculum is because of its resemblance to an art form rather than that of an academic nature. The reason being, primarily, is that couches have a finite number of cushions upon them thus making fewer the obstacle types available. Fortunately for Amelia, Zachary and I, we have a sectional couch with ample materials for constructing structures of choice, and, hence, are limited only by our imagination. 

Today's impromptu playground consisted of a cushion slide leading down to a pillow splash pool. Zach was determined to walk down the slide and finally had a successful run at it, though each prior attempt ending in a roll down was pretty fun, too.  Amelia seemed to enjoy the climbing up part just as much, if not more so, than the tumbling down. Perhaps she sees the same benefit in the couch fort as me, which is getting some exercise on frosty December mornings without requiring GORE-TEX. 

 

Keep 'em crossed

The other day, Elijah and I were pondering the significance of our friend Zach's newest hand gesture, crossed fingers, which he has recently added to his repertoire. It is something he does quite frequently, and it doesn't seem to be just a random act. Elijah is convinced that Zach is hoping for something specific and I think he is absolutely right. It seems Zach is usually in deep deliberate thought at every crossing: about what, though, I cannot quite put my finger on. Let's see if we can shed some light on the mystery.

Since Elijah made up the game, I will give his impression of the meaning behind the symbol first. He believes that Zach is hoping to avoid getting hurt when climbing things. His hypothesis does make a lot of sense especially considering Zach hasn't been getting hurt nearly as much lately, and we all know how reliable a good luck talisman crossed fingers can be. 

My guess is that he is hoping that Santa's surveillance team is out on a coffee break whenever he has something mischievous planned; it seems every time I see him tossing wooden blocks over the baby gate to the dog, as sure as taxes, his fingers are crossed. Silly Zach...don't you know Santa never takes breaks?

Nadine is convinced Zach is hoping for more green vegetables with lunch. I'm only kidding. I made that one up. Nadine is smart enough to know any wishing done by Zach involving green vegetables deals exclusively with peas. Any over-generalization of "greens" above and beyond that would just be absurd.

Amelia believes that it is merely a quirky anomaly lending itself to a predisposed motion through his motor neuron routing resulting in the formation of just a simple bodily habit and has direct correlation to an excited emotional state; much like young children clapping their hands or swinging their arms when they are happy. Amelia is such a card... ha ha, kids say the cutest things, don't they? 

In reality, though, the explanation which makes the most sense is of Zach hoping that when he enrolls in his new class on February 16th, Amelia and he will continue to remain the best of friends. 

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Moors! Say Moors!

Seinfeld ranks among one of my all time favorite shows. There are episodes that, to this day, still make me chuckle in recollection at some of the cleverly-labelled, quirky idiosyncrasies and general farce which govern the lives of its four central characters.  One of my all time favorite story lines is the one involving the bubble boy engaged in a game of Trivial Pursuit with George in an attempt to kill time while they waited for Jerry to show up. For anyone who has not seen this one, suffice to say, the gamesmanship between them is ultimately ruined by an obvious misprint on one of the cards. 

Feeling as I do about this episode, imagine my happiness every time I hear Amelia announcing her diaper is not soiled... and does so using the word, "moop".

Now's the time on Sprockets when we dance.

I'm thankful for...

I'm still trying to get back into the swing of this technology thing. Since my old laptop crashed its final time, I was forced to revert to more rudimentary forms of communication. My primary medium of mass mail was reduced to the sending of smoke signals for conveyance of important bulletins to my neighbors. Messages such as; "my chimney needs cleaning" or "my scones are highly flammable" etc. It's been hard re-acclimating myself to this "typing while sitting still" thing and, even more difficult, doing all of it without catching things on fire. Ah well, let me give it my best college try here.

 

"So where did you run off to, Mr. Steve?" You might ask...if you enjoy the drivel of my ramblings. Well, folks, much like captain Ahab, I have been obsessed in a quest; not in struggle with a white whale but rather, with conquering a black dog. Don't be alarmed, as it is not of the Winston Churchill variety, but instead of a much more literal sense. Yes, "the taming of the chew" saga continues with our powder keg of a puppy, Niko. 

Niko's training is actually progressing better than I anticipated, and, happily, some of my hair is even beginning to grow back. I have discovered the benefits of keeping him on a grueling regimen of physical exercise to burn off some of that puppy zeal keeping him just a tad more relaxed and giving greater retention to his obedience training exercises. A great method our family has found for killing four birds with one stone is to practice "sit, stay and come" while running up and down our stairway. It can be done anytime rain or shine, and it is fun for everyone. Niko gets exhausted physically, learns obedience commands, understands stair safety rules, and I get a work out walking the stairs when it's just me and him. Of course, it is no substitute for a good old fashioned walk to get him accustomed to the world outside the four or more walls which confine him but I do find it to be an often necessary addendum to the sometimes too short walks of the Ohio wintertime.

All and all, I would have to say he's got great manners for a puppy...especially when he has temporary lapse of being just that.  

.................

This morning, as Amelia, Zach and I sat by the living room window watching the snow fall in front of our Gators 2006 National Football Championship flag, I witnessed an incredible sight quite foreign in these parts: some completely unprovoked sharing. Amelia had stacked several blocks next to the window. Zach, sitting at my other side, began to state with distress that he too wished to stack blocks but possessed none with which to construct. Amelia glanced over at his sad expression and pulled a block off the top of her stack and handed it to him to much smiles and gratitude. 

There is truly so much happiness to be taken from an act so simple as this. It gives to me hope for the cooperation of all humanity to rebuild whatever block stacks whether they were knocked down by inherent weaknesses in infrastructure or a gradual slant in hardwood sub-flooring. I know we can all work together to make those stacks even stronger and higher than they originally were. Look to the stackers, people. Look to the stackers.