This is the happening : 2022
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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, 2022 : 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:
Giving people the dignity of finishing their own sentences.
Writing a poem or short snippet of something every day.
And so it goes.