This are a few pages of a blog back around Dash's birth.
Maybe it'll pick up again... (Update: didn't happen. Basically, just Dash stuff for twelve years or so (and Facebook came along and became the de-facto "this is what I'm doing right now" platform.
November 2005 - a couple entries, including ruminations on Kate Bush
- Details
- Category: blog (dull)
The BlogJam(that's web log Jeffrey A Martin) (or for the newbies, Jeff's Sequential-yet-Random Thoughts page) Drop me a very brief email and say "hi": Note: I suspect that this blog is now mostly Dash Observations.
Sunday, 9:15p, October 23, 2005I moved this entry over to the Dash Delivery page. Thursday, 5:45p, November 17, 2005Mom and Dad Stokes just arrived home from helping us out for two weeks. After about two days home from the hospital with no help, I said to Leigh that we had to get some help immediately. They were a tremendous help. Lifted a burden, knowing they were there. I went back to work a while back after a week and a half off. Forgot to bring a picture, felt bad. But there were a bunch of pictures posted all over the CalTrans trailer thanks to Debbie and Sara. Quite heartwarming. Looked at first-days video a couple of nights ago. Dash didn't seem all that different, but Leigh and I laughed as I was narrating "Uh oh, he's getting fussy, I have to put the camera down." "That's fussy? That ain't nothing." We reminisced with longing those half-hearted cries. The boy can belt it out now. There was a period where he had a very reasonable moderated cry that indicated that he was hungry or uncomfortable. Very low stress. Now he puts everything into it. A bit too much. Not like he's in severe pain or anything, but like it's the end of the world nonetheless. The hardest part of it all is the uncertainty. A clear pattern has emerged that will undoubtedly continue for, oh, four or five decades: we'll master one skill and Dash will say "oh yeah, but can you handle THIS?" A while ago I didn't understand the inconvenience of insomnia. "If I can't sleep I'll read. No problem." Then after suffering some insomnia I realized that choosing to get up and read requires a clear decision and a threshold of effort that in effect abandons the possibility of immediate sleep. The result is that one spends hours on the very edge of sleep, hoping to doze off but neither sleeping nor reading. The nightly feedings, which Dash likes every two hours (Bad Boy!) is similar. While they may take twenty minutes, there might be a thirty minute evaluation period preceding it. "He's fussing. Will he sleep through it? Will he go back to sleep? It's been three hours. He never goes two long. Should I wake him up now and get it over with?" The 5am to 6:00am period is especially dubious as he is very fussy and noisy while sleeping. The other confusing thing, and it has been true since birth, is that all the elements of the feeding/diaper/burping/falling-asleep relationship is contradictory. The goal is to fully feed him and then get him back to sleep (guilt: I love him, but want him unconscious). Contradiction one: slackerboy finds the breast very relaxing and tends to nod off well before he's full. Contradiction two: burping must occur after feeding, which is usually signaled by Dash sleeping; burping wakes him up (plus finds any burping strong enough to be effective quite annoying). Contradiction three: stripping the boy naked keeps him awake for longer feeding but putting clothes back on wakes him up and keeps him awake. The uncertainty is the thing. In other "developments" when he is in his Active Alert state, he now focuses well and finds my face almost as interesting as a blank wall or a ceiling. He definitely looks around at a lot of things. He also now likes to make noises while doing anything. Maybe 'cuz he knows I'll fill in any silence with my babbling. BTW I will NOT circumcise another child. The mother of that baby in the park was NOT happy with me.
Saturday, 11:00a, November 19, 2005Okay, just to prove that this isn't a Dash-only blog: Kate Bush. But first some general ramblings about music.There's nothing quite like a song you just love. Mood lifting, perhaps inspiring. Nothing quite like being in love with a song. Wait: being in love with an album or an artist. You can appreciate the talent in a great song, but I can't think of a single song where I'm inspired to think: genius! It takes more than a single song or even a pair. Even a nine minute song like Jane's Addiction's "Three Days", which I consider a great, complex song, doesn't get me thinking that Perry Ferrell's a genius (like Ozzy Osbourne, is he even functional anymore?). I do, however, appreciate a song that deviates from the 3-minute verse-verse-refrain-verse-refrain-bridge-verse-refrain pattern. There are few things catchier than that great 3-minute pop song. A great melody played out. There are some Pop albums that are great fun, but essentially meaningless (off the top of my head: Elastica's self-titled, That Petrol Emotion's "Chemicrazy"). I appreciate yearning and earnestness in my favorite songs (and albums and movies and in how people live their lives) (I appreciate sheer emotional angst in music much more so than in movies and life (in the latter I prefer transcendence and redemption). And who says you can have your fun and boppiness while scathing political criminals (perhaps still holding office)? "It's been a while / since you said 'Heil!' / you CIA-bred necrophile" croons the Fatima Mansions. An album as a piece of work, like a musical play, is more than just a group of songs purchased in bulk. A song can be like a great date, but the album is the relationship. A series of great dates can get you thinking that you're on to something pretty deep. A great album has to have very good songs. They don't all need to be great songs, but they need to fit together in a great whole and contribute to that whole. A great album can build up like a great song. On the other hand, some of my favorite albums have songs that fit together well without actually contributing to each other. The albums still delivers an intense cohesive emotional and acoustic wallop. Take Joy Division's legendary "Unknown Pleasures." It's dark and throbbing and oh so urgent, though after twenty years I still couldn't tell you specifically what it's about. And it doesn't matter. A great album doesn't have to have a specific ARTISTIC theme to transcend the "conglomeration of songs" label. The Cure's "Wish" somehow seems like a story, perhaps merely by the sequencing and titling (the opening track is called "Open" and the ending track is called "End."). Midnight Oil's "10,9,8,7,6,5,4,3,2,1" doesn't have an explicit artistic thread between songs but is in my five albums of all time, because of its consistent call to political awareness and responsibility and the way the songs build, blend, and supplement each other musically. Which leaves the type of album I have a soft spot for: the Concept album. Where the 50- or 70-minute work builds to a single statement. Take early Rush as the premier example (neglect their "By-Tor and the Snow Dog," though, as this might have been a parody). Two albums in my top five are clearly concept albums: Poe's "Haunted" and Kate Bush's "Hounds of Love." Back to Kate BushKate Bush has three albums that I consider completely excellent. Kate's 1977 debut "The Kick Inside" gorgeously showcases the raw talents of a deeply emotional and insightful young girl with a powerful wild voice and a vocal style from somewhere out of the blue sky. An extremely sensitive and moving album. A true classic, carried by her voice and the nakedness of her emotions. Kate then put out a series of albums that were experimental and bold, but don't quite stand the test of time. "The Dreaming," which may or may not be a concept album is definitely a conceptual album. High-energy wildly creative songs that work and do stand the test of time. This is a great, fun, album, but I'm not sure if meets the "Classic" standard. 1985(+/-) "The Hounds of Love." Genius. Her masterpiece. Creative on all levels. The second half, called "The Ninth Wave." Call it 30 minutes of tightly connected concept, perhaps my favorite 30-minute block of music I've ever heard. An example of her poetry/imagery: "Hello, Earth. / Hello, Earth! / With just one hand held out high / I can blot you, blot you out of sight / Peekaboo, Peekaboo. Little Earth, Little Earth. " I can't help but picturing myself somewhere past lunar orbit, stopping what I'm doing and playing Peekaboo with our planet. I had often thought that if aliens came up to me and said "Jeff, we would like you give us a musician's work that can help us understand the soul and the hope of your species" I would give them Kate's "Kick Inside," "The Dreaming," and "The Hounds of Love" as they convey a beautiful voice, wild creativity in music (while still having danceable structure), and the emotional sensitivity we humans can possess. Several reviewers have said "It is a privilege to share this planet with Kate Bush" and I agree wholeheartedly. Kate puts out "The Sensual World" in 1989. Pretty much standard 4-minute songs, three of which are really good, the rest reminding me of, dare I say it, filler. "Rocket's Tail" transcends and is great powerful poetry (look up the lyrics) and musically a blast. 1993's "The Red Shoes" is a bunch of catchy tunes making up a decent no-filler album of catchy tunes. But not brilliant and not genius. Which brings us to... Kate Bush's new album "Aerial"I often listen to music while working. I've been listening to "Aerial" every day for about a week now. So a few days back I was fully into that rare joy of an album that is genius. It's truly one of the best feelings I know, being immersed in music you love, connecting emotionally (even the skewedly political urgings of Midnight Oil's Peter Garrett is passionately emotional) with a vocalist you love, when the new music is familiar enough that you can follow along, participate and anticipate, but where it's still new enough that new subtleties, nuances, and insights continually show themselves to your delight. The discovering-that-new-genius-album joy was multiplied by the fact that it created by a beloved hero who last moved us so deeply 20 years ago. While it doesn't surpass "Hounds of Love" the second CD is essentially a standalone concept album with long free-ranging songs that work as one. Brilliant. Genius. It lacks the harsh energetic edginess of her younger stuff. It is more mature, how can it not be? With maturity we lose some things and gain others. We can fight the change or embrace it but it's not going away. Joy DashAfter Dash woke up after I got home from work yesterday, I did my normal walking around the bottom floor with him. He was quiet and content for a change and stayed that way for a long time. He actually makes eye contact with you now (as opposed to looking in the direction of your head like he did for the first week and at your head like he did for two weeks after that). He'll look at one eye and then the other. Pretty cool. Like he's REALLY checking you out (and hopefully not judging too harshly). I like to hold him on my chest rather upright and let him look around. I'll turn my body towards where he's looking. Often he keeps looking to the left or right out of view, which results in long spins. He also likes when I walk near the ceiling lights and windows. I put in the Kate Bush album and turned it up. Baby's first Kate Bush. Important parenting, right there. The staples. We waltzed around for a while. Leigh had some of our pregnant friends over for dinner, Dash was hungry and I fed him a bottle. I like feeding him because I feel like I'm doing something tangibly beneficial. So he was a good boy for a long time. A good day. Having a baby to take care of is a lot like surfing in some ways. I've never really been able to surf although I have been able to stand on a surfboard (there is a big gulf between doing that and actually SURFing). Most of the time, like 99% of the time, it can be exhausting and punishing as waves pummel and batter you. But the punishment is good punishment, by nature itself; a kind of holy beating. Worthy in and of itself. And then after two hours of pummeling you catch a wave and it's magic. Keeping the kid happy when he's fussy or when its 3am can be a kind of pummeling, and it's not as intrinsically fun as the surf pummeling. And it lasts long. But you get these periods when the boy seems happy and content and safe and like he's going to be just fine. And it's MAGIC! This morning he awoke in a good mood and he was in that Quiet Observer mode, seeming very wise and at peace with all things. I've known joy before. But the moments of joy with the baby are so profound and deep they overwhelm the moment and pierces hope and joy decades into the future. There's nothing like it. So I'm standing there with my son staring at my tear-streamed face and Kate Bush is in the background singing to her son:
Earlier Blogjam ending 2005, September 1 |
- Details
- Category: blog (dull)
The BlogJam
(that's web log Jeffrey A Martin)
(or for the newbies, Jeff's Sequential-yet-Random Thoughts page)
Drop me a very brief email and say "hi":
Saturday, 10:10p, May 14, 2005
I am hoping that I keep up with this blog now. In theory, working permanently in San Diego should give me that sort of flexibility. But of course reality tends to be different. I started work at CH2M Hill on April, 4 and only now am I writing, on May 14. Deadlines and "getting up to speed" at work, plus five days in Baltimore/Washington (thanks, Mike and Cindy for letting us intrude).
Did some tile shopping today prior to heading to the beach for "volleyball." Beach is good.
About Impending Fatherhood
About 22 years ago (Good Lord, time flies and we're getting OLD!) I did something that I had always wanted to do: skydive. It was one of the reasons I went to the Air Force Academy: I liked flying and space, and you could fly and jump out of planes there. Anyway, during my second summer there I got to do the jump program which consisted of a week of really intense physical training (if it's not excruciating, then it's fun and the military can't have that) prior to five 10-second freefalls.
Now, during training, I wasn't nervous. This was simply something I had long wanted to do, I was getting ready to do it. No big deal. The night before the jump I had no trouble sleeping. Prior to boarding the aircraft I don't remember any nerves. In the plane, the jumpmaster was making the 15 jumpers sing songs to distract from the impending craziness. I distinctly remember feeling very calm. "Standing" in the door arched in the required very weird and precarious "ready" position, with 80mph winds swirling inches away and less than an inch from a 5000 ft drop, I wasn't nervous.
The moment I pivoted out the door: sheer absolute panic. Physically I was counting out the cadence and going through the prescribed motions on cue, but mentally I was curled into a fetal position plummeting towards a very sudden and splattery stop.
Same thing with Dash (leading candidate for the name: Dash Alexander), I've always wanted kids. Looks like one is coming. I understand this intellectually and in an abstract way. But emotionally, you know, in a "core" way, it's still very abstract. There have been two somewhat emotional moments, but the moment equivalent to pivoting out of the airplane hasn't happened yet. It's only a matter of time.
Leigh is starting to look pregnant. She didn't really look pregnant to me until I noticed an undeniable "waddle" in her step while exploring Washington, DC (Da Capital). Of course, she was carrying my luggage, which made it more pronounced.. Here belly is round like mine, but hard. I am afraid to touch it, as something is hold me back a bit. I suspect it's the kid in me trying to cling to the frolic of youth and deny that he's an aging, fattening middle-aged man (I still like to think of my last couple senior years at U of F as the truest image of me (playing a lot)).
As I have seen only a sonogram and a weight gain, it could all be a ruse. There's some deniability left. Hopefully I'll get to go to Leigh's last sonogram on Tuesday morning. If so, with the heartbeat, and live, undeniable, video, I think that will be my "pivot" moment with the full emotional whallop.
By the way, that first jump sent me to the hospital with a sprained ankle.
And, I just now, while writing this, realized the type of aircraft that I had that "pivot" moment on: a DeHavilland UV-18 Twin Otter. Also known as the Dash-6!!! How weird is that?
Thursday, 8:30p, May 19, 2005
Well, I didn't have a "pivot" moment" (like described above), but watching the Sonar Technician, er, Sonogram Technician, going through the "Body Part Checklist" was definitely very cool. Rather than a step function or Off-On switch, the experience was more like punching the gas pedal and giving an already moving process more energy and momentum. That afternoon I was ready for Dash to already be here (but as one can expect work has grinded me down where my mental energies are all on tomorrow's deadline (how do I get off this treadmill?)).
Anyway the Tech located and measured all of Dash's major body parts to construct a model and do a weight measurement. Similar to what I do with highways, but far more important. Dash has two legs (skinny like my dad's) two arms (I might be projecting, but I think he was doing the Gator Chomp (Good Boy!)!) a bunch of fingers and toes, a big head (I didn't see the jaw flapping, so he is more like Mommy than Daddy in that respect), a good looking heart and spine, and apparently all the other things he's supposed to have. Technology sure is impressive (I did get distracted by the hardware and software before I remembered the greater miracle of the biology). So very cool.
Work is exhausting. CalTrans' software is very cumbersome. Oy.
The house stalled for a week. Hopefully restarting tomorrow. Giant holes in the floor.
Hasta.
Tuesday, 9:10p, May 31, 2005
I'm feeling too overwhelmed to be doing this, but sometimes you want to stick to a resolution or commitment if for no other reason than that you have made the commitment.
Summary:
House:
The view to the right is the looking into the house from the front door (diagonally to the northwest). It's actually more torn up now. That ladder is our staircase. I tore out drywall in September. Only now is it getting going, but there are frequent discouraging setbacks. We're hoping to get things done in time to have a little sanity time before Dash comes along.
|
My work is as bad a fit as I've ever been in. Let's leave it at that for now. It'd be much more tolerable if the hours were more manageable (not necessarily less, just more "plan-able" or flexible). Oh, I just noticed, my last entry about work was that I was working at CH2M Hill. Since May 17, I've been working for them in a CalTrans trailer using software that is inferior to what I'm a guru at. Design Software is like a language. It's complex, takes years to master, and is a fumble-fest until you get competent. CH2M Hill was well managed under my boss, Joe Sawtelle, but the CalTrans job is an accelerated job with staff relatively inexperienced with the software and terribly undermanned. If everybody works 70hrs/wk until October we'll be fine. Nobody's fault, but it's at the opposite end of the spectrum from when I was putting in 60+/hrs a week, but setting my own schedule, negotiating (most of) my deadlines, and not being constrained on how to deliver the goods. So much for leaving "it at that for now".
Leigh's working hard getting some marketing for Leaf It To Us going.
In spite of working on Saturday and Monday, we did get some volleyball and sailing (see picture on the home page) in this weekend.
Does anyone actually read this?
Thursday, 9:40p, June 16, 2005
Dang. I'm feeling really conscientious about keeping this blog up to date, yet it's still been two weeks.
Update in a sentence (albeit run-on): Leigh spent a week with family in Chicago/Michigan. She's really hustling with work now, afraid I might come home jobless; house is coming along, over the hump.
Leigh visited family Mom, Dad, and JoAnna in Michigan. Had lots o' fun. I worked and finished up plans for the master bathroom remodel. I tell ya: I'm an excellent modeler but a lousy drafter. I had the proposed work modeled in the CAD package in a couple hours. Setting up a cover sheet and doing all the notes and borders, elevations and sections took forever. Same thing at work: I'll engineer all day long, but tell me that the contours I sent ya need to be a different color and I'm NastyMan. Engineering = Truth. Drafting = Decorating.
The house has passed a milestone. The hard stuff, the stuff that will outlast life on this planet, the concrete and steel interface that will be under six feet of concrete (and already resting in five feet of concrete), the stuff requiring Special Inspection, designed by Felix and implemented by Oscar and ultimately signed off on by Felix, is just about done. The beam is now welded onto the monster columns. From this point if something gets screwed up it's accessible for fixin (well, technically the low-shrinkage grout that is getting placed tomorrow would be hard to undo). Leigh and I both feel springy in our steps as a big burden is lifted. She's taking the project back over (aggressively) as it is shifting back into her realm of expertise, aesthetics.
Before and Proposed, Current Pictures Jeff in the west excavation. |
My Wheel Of Moodswing is on Manic also because I am expecting to take BOTH days off from work this weekend. I'm half expecting the traditional Friday "are you coming in tomorrow" but another burden has been lifted by reaching the "I've reached my limit and don't care about the consequences if I go attend my needs" point. Things are easier once you give up hope.
I'm very tired and am babbling. I recognize that no of this may be interesting in the least, but it has no less personal value than, say, a diary.
What's brown and sticky? A stick!
Thursday, 10:15p, June 23, 2005
I felt Dash kicking for the first time last night. Not all that different from Leigh when she's gassy. Although a little more rhythmic. I think he was doing the Gator Chomp. Good boy. Leigh, of course, feels him all the time. She was doing a meditation thing with the Space Hermanas tonight and he was doing some sort of Riverdance.
Look west immediately after sunset, the bright stars near the sun are Mercury, Venus and Saturn.
Gators are playing for the NCAA baseball championship this weekend! Cool!
Saturday, 10:45a, July 23, 2005
Sorry about no writing. Since the last blog we've been working nights and weekends on the house. It's kind of funny. When we think we reach a big milestone, such as finishing the steel and framing (two weeks ago) and think we can relax a bit, something previously thought as simple, becomes ridiculous. For example, stairs should have been simple, but the steel guy needed constant supervision, correction and pleading. Major hassle, many 3D drawings, many late nights. Done now. Temp steps in. But we're pretty exhausted. I'd get home from work and work on the house until midnight every night. The major stressor was coordinating the schedules for the steel guy (who would not come when he said he would or do what he said he would) and the special inspector who needed two days notice. Much progress though. Our electrical guy, John Lupton, is excellent, as is our plumber, Steve.
Leigh is pregnanting right along. Only major issues are heartburn, itching, and recurrent hurling at remembering Kili crunching a mouse. The drive back from Souplantation last night will be told and retold for decades. Briefly, thank God we were in the unupholstered work van with lots of buckets.
I have really dropped of the face of the earth. I essentially talk only to my Mom and work crews. I look forward to calling some of you soon.
Sunday, 1:15p, August 14, 2005
check out the new pregnancy page
Geez, another 3 weeks since writing? Hard to believe since it's one of my top recreational priorities. Working hard. House is getting done; down to drywall, tile, cabinets, carpet. Click for Before and Proposed, Current Pictures
Leigh was a very bad girl yesterday. We haven't played much but I have been able to get a hour or two of volleyball at the beach in on an occasionally Saturday. Leigh has been reluctant to go down since she had to stop playing volleyball. I urged her to come down with me yesterday. Upon arrival and surveying the games in progress Leigh announces "I can handle this. I'm playing." My arm-wavey objections went unnoticed in that way only a wife (or husband) can filter out a spouse. Leigh starts in the setting position. First serve, first shank, first dive for the ball. Oy. She played four games quite well; a step slow on defense but still hitting the ball down and low with topspin. An exhibition in athletically impressive poor judgment. All is fine, but I will not urge Leigh to come to the beach on volleyball day.
We did our first Birthing class (We hit Babies R Us on the way. Good Lord, what stuff. We apparently must buy 1000 times the baby's project birth weight. Strollers the size and complexities of SUV's. Those papooses one where's on ones chest can run $100.
Anyway, the thing I learned at Birthing Class, is that my panicking doesn't really help Leigh much. So, embracing a Tony Robbins philosophy that I rejected out of principal when I read "Awaken the Giant Within", I will completely distort my perception of reality in order to do what I need to do to cope: Billions of people, mostly women, have given birth with no problems whatsoever; Leigh is in such good shape that she'll be fine; she not only tolerates pain well but actually enjoys it (consider: she married me). No problem.
Thursday, 6:35p, September 1, 2005
Holy Cow it's September. Six weeks til D-Day (Dash Day). Good Gravy.
I have a brief lull in the storm, unlike the hurricane-stricken in No m'Orleans. Man, is that place in trouble, and for a long time, too. The should move it to above sea-level as it will be uninhabited and uninhabitable for a while.
We're expecting a big three-day weekend of painting, cleanup (lots of cleanup), and some grinding of stair steel as the welders were in too much of a hurry to do a good job (and we so underconfident in them that we didn't think they'd do it right if we gave them more time).
I'm writing because I have writing time: got the laptop in front of the TV watching the first college football game of 2005: Steve "Still a Gator" Spurrier's South Carolina's Gamecocks vs. Central Florida Golden Knights. Grabbed the old television from the garage and put it in the living room.
House is coming along. The biggest items remaining are kitchen and bathroom cabinets and countertops. Probably next Wednesday for cabinets, two weeks after that the granite should be done. Then done? Then three weeks of rest (I seriously wonder if we're capable). The master bathtub room has been converted to an office. Dash will have a crib and stuff in there for a while. Some miscellany: stairs, tile sealing, wood sanding. |
Leigh's upstairs watching the US Open. Tennis is her addiction, college football is mine. A nice afternoon. Very enjoyable watching football, doing something fun (this). From the same position I sat last year I saw a nice sunset. The Booga was very friendly; he got a good long and overdue petting and brushing. Pulled out a lot of hair. Threw it blithely on the floor for the last time (haha) since I think that after the cleanup this weekend I'll have to honor "we're actually in a house" standards again. Leigh just told me the cats were locked in so that explains their attention. Sigh.
|
Been attending Birth Classes. How amazing. You know, Intelligent Design seems so much more reasonable than Darwin's blind change. I can see the appeal there. But in science you really can't default to magic as the prime mover. Doesn't mean that magic wasn't a part of it, but it literally can't be part of the equation.
I know that lots of men have their perspective profoundly changed at the birth of their child. It's interesting to me. Call it twenty-five years of intense focus and effort to do something extraordinary (or at least non-average), efforts to excel in a narrow (and increasingly irrelevant) niche, strange experiences (parachuting, hang gliding, bungee jumping, Manta Ray feeding dives, etc). That lifelong urge to separate oneself from the masses humbled by the fact that the most extraordinary and amazing moment of my life will be something shared by billions and billions of mothers throughout history. Ironic that the most profound is that which has been shared by so many. Neat.
Earler Blogjam ending 2005, January 04
- Details
- Category: blog (dull)
The BlogJam(that's web log Jeffrey A Martin) (or for the newbies, Jeff's Sequential-yet-Random Thoughts page) Drop me a very brief email and say "hi": Note sure of the blog format, but here goes: Sunday, August 24, 2003Leigh's in Michigan visiting the folks. Whoops, August 24. That's Danny's Birthday. I didn't forget (it's on my Outlook Calendar), I didn't even forget to call (not for over three hours at a time, anyway). I just kept hitting "Snooze" until it's now 11:15p in Orlando. That's pretty much my personal/family niceties in a nutshell. Quick recap for the last 18 months or so: work, work, stress, stress, work, knee injury to start the summer. Fat, slow. Burnt out. Travel only to work and parents (I actually did a combo trip in July). Saw the family and met Taylor and Zoe. Only new thing is the new rental property, which we'll want to move into eventually. I've doing a lot of work (essentially full time since April) as a consultant on Oklahoma Department of Transportation's MicroStation/InRoads upgrade. It's good work, but of finite duration. Haven't done all that much training lately, need to do some marketing. Used the first quarter of 2003 to write a really good InRoads training manual (but I haven't marketed it very hard (that, in a nutshell, is what makes me a poor businessman: I don't balance the effort toward the actual money making part (Good lord, I just flashed back to this utterly tremendous "Theatre of Epidorous" I made for Humanities in 1983: it took three people to carry it, but 20% of the grade was on the report, which I didn't do so I got a "B."). Anyway, I've achieved a lot of satisfaction over the last three years; my only remaining interest is to find some sort of balance. I am serving too many masters, I'd like Leigh be a little higher in the priority list and community to be up there higher. Concerning my slothfest, I popped on-line today (after spending around 24 hours fighting with a balky laptop and backup system (I feel exposed without a reliable backup system, which I do not have right now)) and found out that the Silver Strand half marathon is November 16. Which should be plenty of time to actually run in it. Leigh and I were running around 12 miles back in 2000 in prep for a marathon but bowed out to go do "funner" things. I haven't run since. Got out of shape instead. The 2 miles I did tonight was a beating, I have never been this out of shape in my life. I always used to be able to pop back into shape after a work binge. That certainly isn't the case at this age. 240 lbs at 37, compressed L4-L5, bad knee. Marathons and the like exist because, without tangible goals, who would run? Okay, I've got to get back to work. More OkDOT stuff; then some proposals to Bentley, then tomorrow I'll be attending the American Public Works convention representing Archway and InfoTech (I really am behind on OkDOT). Wednesday, August 27, 2003I've been in such a major funk over the last several weeks. So exhausted and worried with "many masters" of three years of independent consulting. I don't like to pick up the phone. Not a good trend. It's also been way hard to get my arms around the InRoads management for OkDOT. I've there now, but it's taken two to 2.5 times longer than I expected, even without the distractions. I am so much more efficient in an office (on the other hand, the stuff I do in offices tend not to be this nebulous and distended. Chill. Patience. I was dreading indoor Volleyball on Monday night, but it turned out to be fun and relieving. I figured out that if I stand closer to the net receiving serve that I pass a lot better around the shoulders than at the ankles. Too bad it took me five seasons to figure that out. My court position at the net on offense has been pretty bad over the same time period. So our aptly named team, The Ballshank Redemption, played our first game like we had never played together before (we hadn't) getting clobbered 15-14. We overcame an 2-8 deficit to take the second game 16-14. We won the last game 1-0 (time limit) with a lot of controversy for one point. We seem to be the team with the highest slop and controversy factor every season. Feeling overwhelmed, but I made a bunch of calls, so I feel much better. It certainly feels better to be disappointing half of everybody you know rather than all of them. It feels twice as good. I was pretty sore from my first run, but my run this morning felt much better. Maybe I finally got kickstarted on this running thing (which will eventually spark a broader effort). Hope I can stay injury free. Thursday, September 4, 2003Got home from Traverse City on Monday for a few hours before heading to Dallas. Leigh's parents are doing well, until I forced them to take me to Sault Saint Marie, Ontario. I am pretty big on long road trips to see new places on maps without actually getting out of the car. Momma P finished her radiation treatment and is looking good (I'd say "Hot" but the Geiger counters would cry "Foul!"). Went to a Traverse City Central HS football game with Dad, which was very enjoyable. Actually the whole weekend was. Still running every other day for 30 minutes or more. 40 minutes on Tuesday. The 240 lbs of fat is starting to protest. This time running is a bit more precarious because of the number of systems that are shaky (kind of like my laptop...). Friday, September 12, 2003Johnny Cash died last night. Dad had a bunch of his albums. I remember something about San Quintin. Danny and I of course got a kick out of "A Boy named Sue." It looks like all our stuff is done for the house on the bay (http://members.cox.net/spam4jam). We have keys and will probably spend the night tonight on an air mattress there for fun. After a nice dinner. Leigh busted her butt handling everything on both the Vancouver sale and Chicago St purchase. I just got back from Oklahoma. We're ready for the weekend. I'm feeling better about work. Now that the "invisible and unrewarding" but highly critical overhead is mostly done, the exciting work is beginning now. Electronic, hyperlinked learning systems. Very cool work. Good deal. Haven't run in a week. Maybe this afternoon. It's been hot, I've been out of town and I've been sore (all my lack of activity, I've forgotten about chronic back pain). I actually put on weight after running for two weeks. That doesn't seem right. I need to keep running, though, I can still run the Silver Strand in November. Hasta. Sunday, October 26, 2003Long time no blog. Lot has happened. I had out of town training or trips three out of four weeks. Dragged Leigh to Maine for five days. Lots of fun. Stopped running. Leigh's birthday was a couple days ago. Surf lessons, keyboard, good dinner. That's not important right now. Right now we are watching television awaiting an evacuation order. The City Fire Chief is showing a map of the area; there is a big red line running east-west a couple of miles north of us. Winds are to the west and to the southwest. We know of one couple close to us who lives in an area where 130 house were destroyed. We hope otherwise but suspect that they lost their house. Currently we have a number of friends in the Mission Gorge area which is currently ordered evacuated (it's directly across Interstate 8 from us. We're hoping that Interstate 8 is an AWESOME fireblock. The other Interstates have not been. Our cats are in the house, so we'll be able to find them in the event that we have to go. Booga is notorious for his late nights carousing. The day started slowly enough with that extra hour in the morning. It allowed us to enjoy the beautiful orange glow of sunrise. It was a bit too orange, though, as a thick smoke layer exaggerated the color to an unnatural hue. Early in the day, I was able to see flames when the Scripps Ranch area was burning down. It's been very smoky since then. All the City officials are kissing each other's butt on one screen, while in the other screen there is a long shot of our other friend's neighborhood burning. I'll post this now while we still have power and cable. Monday afternoon, October 27, 2003Some pix. Winds have been reasonable. The smoke cover is thinner (the sky is the color of a formerly-white tub that hasn't been cleaned in too long). Still some ash following. Things in the immediate area look pretty good. Most of the big "Cedar" fire passed several miles to the north yesterday. I haven't heard what has happened to the Mission Gorge front (which caused the nearby evacuation last night). The primary worry now for us is that there are continuing evacuations along Interstate-8 several miles to the west, adjacent to El Cajon's east side. Consistently, areas that were thought to have burned out have started up again and in a different direction (the firefighters have only protected structures, they have been unable to do anything to the fire itself (they did light some backfires in Otay Mesa (the southernmost fire). Leigh went to volunteer at the Red Cross today; she's scheduled to do an All-Nighter at a shelter on Thursday night. We're hoping that things stay calm enough to allow the firefighters an opportunity to staunch some of the fires. The fireline is just incredibly long. It just occurred to me what the sky reminds me of: a city lit night in winter in Buffalo: low snow heavy clouds orange with the reflection of the city; the ash is like the premature snowflakes. It's warm snow. Monday Late Night, October 27, 2003It looks like the Santa Ana winds are over. The "Cedar" fire, which was the one threatening us is not moving anywhere right now, just smoldering. It looks like the big threat is over and unless something really weird happens, we're good. Whew, THAT was fun. Not. The immediate area looks good. No likely threat over the next couple of days. Air quality is pretty nasty, we're hanging up pork around the house and getting ham. Tuesday Morning, October 28, 2003The immediate area looks good. No likely threat over the next couple of days. Air quality is pretty nasty, we're hanging up pork around the house and getting ham. Thursday, 1:00pm, November 20, 2003Long time no blog. Been on a monstrous series of road trips over the last two months, but had some fun. After the InRoads Conference in Arizona, I had Leigh join me for dinner with Barry Mathews (big brother) and Brad Adams (boss/mentor). She also got to meet some Bentley folks, Ron Gant, in particular. We then did the Grand Canyon for a couple of days including a hike to the bottom. I'll post some pictures soon. I am happy to be home and working on one job now. Good stuff but monstrous in amount. It looks like the Santa Ana winds are over. The "Cedar" fire, which was the one threatening us is not moving anywhere right now, just smoldering. It looks like the big threat is over and unless something really weird happens, we're good. Whew, THAT was fun. Not. Thursday, 5:25p, January 8, 2004Been back home from Christmas in Orlando (Mom turned 60) and New Years Football Marathon in Traverse City. Work's been fine but in a tedious phase, hard to establish any momentum. Think I'm past it now. I should start posting many photos soon. |
- Details
- Category: blog (dull)