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Young Photographer
Jude got ahold of the camera the other day, unbeknownst to us. Here is his best:
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Drive Time
09.30.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on Drive Time
Today was a terrific day. We framed the walls to the second floor and I cut the stair parts so we can assemble the second set of stairs tomorrow. We worked until 7:00 and when I got into the ancient blue pick-up and started it up the belt squealed so I tightened the belt and that was that ( so satisfying when a problem has a two minute fix… dare I say that I welcome them?).
Then Martha and I cruised home listening to KIXI. There is a part of me that misses FM, that misses 90.3 KEXP, but another part of my surges with joy, flashing back through all this fun nostalgia that seems tailored to me and my own proclivities from the years gone by.
For instance, tonight’s drive list started out with:
Some Enchanted Evening from South Pacific. Not only do I love South Pacific, but I have this vivid memory of thumbing through records at Value Village with Chris while he was collecting “Living Stereo” recordings. We found a copy of South Pacific and I believe he or I took it home. I still don’t really understand what living stereo means, but I love the logo emblazoned across 50’s album covers.
Next up was Mr Sandman which I remember singing over the school intercom with Cheryl and various other thesbians recast as “Mr Eickoff” to promote a school play. Not a knock-out anecdote, but still….
Then came “I am a Woman” which certainly plays for me, even though I don’t have the proper genitalia I can certainly keep house, take care of the kids and still grease the axle on the car.
Streisand followed with April in Paris. I remember buying like seven Streisand albums in one go and setting myself up with the lot and going to town. Nothing really stuck but I will always remember the attempt. I just like to consume things sometimes… indulgently, all in one sitting, just because.
Till I kissed you by the Everly Brothers was spun next. I used to love to vamp out to Everly Brothers tunes… mostly because I can never get enough tremolo. That waving swampy guitar quiver always gets me going. is that a vibrochamp or what they use or a big old plate reverb? I will always love their sounds.
Benny Goodman came on with Sing, Sing, Sing, which will always remind me of Grandpa Kobs. Good stuff.
I pulled into the driveway with Something by George Harrison. That one was the most interesting to me. I used to love that song. Loved to play the guitar parts and sing along with it. I don’t feel that song anymore. It is a good song, but I think I lost it somewhere in my twenties. It used to capture the complex game of committing to another person… I am not saying it is invalid, but something ironed itself out in me because I couldn’t stack that song over my life and make it fit. Putting it on repeat would seem inauthentic nowadays, which is probably a good thing- “You ask me how can our love grow… i don’t know”. I am sure there was a time when I could make it fit because I liked the song, but it seems so far away like something forgotten. It seems like Max when he sails home from where the wild things are and his soup is still warm. It was so vivid but it seems kind of hazy too.
Wow. I just prattled on for a bit there. If you actually read this far and you aren’t me or my wife then you deserve a “No-Prize” because that was quite a feat. You need to find something better to do with your time!
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Wallcrawlers
After finishing up the plumb and line of the first floor we started climbing the walls on Monday and setting the big beams in preparation for joist on the second floor.
The Kitchen has an enormous beam that is set flush in the ceiling and it was spectacular and crazy for us to move it. Even with four men we had to roll it on stickers and use leverage to get it up onto the wall and rock it into position between the center partition wall and the outside staircase wall.
Here I am BEAMING with joy… get it?
Duane using a stringline to check plump & line
The view from above…
When the walls were just wee things that couldn’t yet stand.
Jude being his innovative self and making a riding toy where once there was none. He is obsessed with Rucks!
Gigi plays house while we build one as well
Daniel walks like a cat across the staircase wall with the big beam.
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The Stone Age comes to a close
09.29.09 | Permalink | | Comments Off on The Stone Age comes to a closeThese pictures already seem like ancient history even though they occurred last week. Like that Judybats song, I apparently live in a time of my own filled with ever new and greater goings on.
Ever the gracious host, I will still jump into my time machine, crank the dial, and pull the lever, taking you all the way back to one week ago when the stone age was still in effect and the monoliths rose from the ground to the tune of Zarathustra.
Lumber arrives
Observant time travelers may notice signs that a new day was already dawning; the wooden age arrived by semi-truck and shiny orange forklift at the very moment of the stone age’s greatest triumph. The stone age would be buried forever beneath man’s progress and the power of tools.
The first floor system all set up
Along with the wood (well, not ON the same truck, but within the same day) came my father and his assistant Daniel. Together we embarked upon a wonderful little primal dance with tools in hand. Sawdust flies, sweat flows, wood groans, and walls will soon stand.
Some native chipmunks arrived to sift the chaos. They brought ceremonial headgear.
The floor goes down and the garage walls go up as we get ready for the real fun as walls get added to the living space.
Well kiddies, it has been really retro-fun time travelling with you and all, but I know that any more exposure to the toxic gamma rays could seriously warp your reality (as if it weren’t already, anyway….) Tune back in tomorrow and if I am still able to find the energy to wiggle my fingers there may be more time traveling, housebuilding shenanigans. So long time travellers… for now.
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18 Months
Here is our boy at 18 months. On September 19th, he turned 18 months. I look around at the new crop of babies and think back to the beginning of the school year last year. He was five going on six months old. At Grandpa’s funeral, Bradley got up to speak and Jude also stood at attention on my lap. When he spied his daddy, even then, he hollered at him and sang along with the song that his daddy was singing. He was active and alert, clapping, cooing, and observant of every little thing that was happening around him.   He is no longer a passive rider in this life, he has hopped on and taken the helm. He is now an active participant in his life, molding and shaping his days.
I look at them, knowingly, all of those new babies, knowing what their future holds. Lots of loves, kisses and hugs for sure, but also a lot of misunderstanding from people who have not spent a lot of time around little busy bodies in a while. I want to warn them of the future looks of disapproval they will receive when their child runs away from them, when the comments come regarding the amount of noise their child can make, when they sigh as your child squirms and wiggles endlessly. As though there is any way to control THAT kind of energy that wouldn’t also wound the child’s spirit.
Yeah,I know he’s noisy, loud, defiant at times and a non-stop motion machine. But he is also clever, quick, brilliant and full of love. He is a problem solver, that’s how he knows how to push a chair or box over to the counter to see what’s happening up there, that’s why he takes the keys and tries to unlock cabinets with them, that’s why he pushes on doors and pulls handles. It’s what babies do. He loves to explore new things by picking them up, touching them, perhaps dropping them.  He likes to explore the relationship between cause and effect: “Everytime I touch something you say NO. Hmmm, interesting, let’s try that some more! I act like I’m going to hit and you react! How exciting!” He is learning about his world in the most natural way there is: experimentation.
I’ve learned that the best way to reach this child is to play with him. To toss him in the air, catch him, then roll on the bed for a full body tickle. I’ve learned that he loves to be chased, just for the joy of running. He loves to feel me lift his shirt and blow on his belly, giving him a Zerbert. Then after I have tossed, rolled, tickled and chased, he allows me to scoop him into my arms and kiss his neck. He lays there for one brief moment as his blonde curls tickle my nose. I breathe him in, release him and he is off again. Do I chase? Of course I do.
He is 18 months, a year and a half, a handful and a half and I wouldn’t have him any other way. This is such a small moment in time, a short time of pureness in him. How can I not embrace it?
