January 2010 I got a cortisol injection for my Ithiopathic Adhesive Encapsulitis, which finally fixed itself. There's nothing like not being able to lift or bend to highlight how fragile a body is, how easily an accident can alter one's lifestyle.
I spent a lot of time in Second Life, an on-line game where players create virtual versions of themselves, called avatars, and interact in a virtual world. A friend from high school, Amy Beltane, had introduced me to "UUtopia," a collection of virtual land parcels owned (well, actually, leased) by Unitarians on Second Life. At the time, Amy was attending seminary school, and her wife, Sharron, would meet in Second Life in their tricked-out treehouse. (This was before Skype was common.) When I first joined, UUtopia was bordered by Anarchists on one side, and Communists on the other.
I found Second Life interesting because players in it can design virtual objects; because I found the fuzzy boundary between the physical reality of people pushing buttons on a keyboard and the virtual reality of interacting with players' avatars fascinating on psychological, philosophical and theological levels; and because I could have interesting discussions with people. OK, it was really fun to make things, and before two weeks had gone out, I was scripting programs to build things.
Once I'd been introduced, the UUtopians were incredibly nice to me and let me build stuff on their land. I built Wiccan-flavored altars in Second Life that would chat the words of ritual in response or create a circle of blue flame in response to an accurately typed ritual phrase. I built candles that would echo the intents of the candle lighter when virtually touched. I made ritual labyrinths, glowing pentagrams, and hollow hills. Sometimes I would help out and make a foundation or dome or something.
Most of the other folks I met were not builders. They were programmers, grandmothers, students, poets, and many of them seemed to live on the east coast. I think the most interesting was the person who frequently wore a fox body -- so yes, I've had religious discussions with a fox. Occasionally, I would attend UU religious services in UUtopia (the UUtopians took leading services and giving sermons in turns); but since it was Mark's night out and I had to attend to The Child, this usually didn't work out. I did manage to present one night, and that was well received.
Sadly, Amy and Sharron got divorced. Which I leaned virtually. Expressing my condolences to both of them was one of those times where the virtual and the real seemed both extra virtual and extra real. Their parcel of land went up for sale.
Eventually, the UUtopians got tired of being collateral damage from the "Griefer War" going on between their neighbors. ("Griefing" in Second Life is when players do things like cause it to rain giant penises, or create objects that duplicate wildly and use up all the hosting server's resource with junk objects, or otherwise crash the party and behave obnoxiously.) They moved to a new island that was all UUtopia. The move -- with its discussion of rent and sub-letting -- made me uncomfortably aware of how I was playing in a sandbox that other people were paying for.
However, the UUtopians (for the most part) seemed pleased to have me tinkering around and building things for them. Probably the most involved build was a "bridge" (and café), which was like a museum of history display about the development of Neo-Paganism and its subsequent incorporation as a UU Sixth Source. At one end was a large world map, about ten feet across. I got some help and figured out a logarithmic scale so that fifty feet away from the map represented the year 2020, twenty-five feet away from the map represented the year zero CE, and fifteen feet away represented the compressed centuries of hominid development. Then I placed various markers (the death of Hypatia of Alexandrea) and objects (Stonehenge) along the time-line and lined up where they would be located on the map.
The objects had "hover text" over them labeling them. Some even would dispense virtual cards with museum text on them. What became evident to me was that there was a cluster of events around 1880 CE and 1980 CE, coinciding with the English mystery lodges in England (e.g. the Order of the Golden Dawn), and the introduction of Wicca and Goddess Worship in the United States. To be sure, there were markers for events before the Common Era, but there was also a gap after about 300 CE were events thinned out. But, to my mind at least, it showed how new Neo-Paganism (at least the Wicca-flavored part I'm most familiar with) is.
As 2010 progressed, and after the Bridge was more-or-less done, I spent less and less time in Second Life. The laptop I was using at the time was an older one, and I was at the trailing end of supported hardware for the game. I really wanted to design things in it, and I'd told myself the typical maker's lie that I could make a living selling Second Life merchandise; but the reality was that it was a hobby, not a job, and I felt like a mooch creating virtual stuff on other people's virtual land. Also, it was difficult not to spend less than an hour or two playing, and Second Life began to cut into my writing. And it was something that was difficult to share with the family.
Spring 2010 This was the year we had to get The Child into a school. We had some friends who were Montessori teachers who were encouraging us to enroll in their school (four blocks away!), but getting in depended on the openings at the school, which were assigned by lottery. The previous year, without the threat of enrollment hanging over our heads, Mark and I were able to look at the various schools calmly. We decided most of the 4J schools were fine, and that the temperament and qualities of the individual teachers would have a bigger impact than a particular school.
I was really glad we'd practiced getting into a school. The Eugene 4J school system has neighborhood schools, with the option for parents to move their kids to a non-neighborhood school if their kid gets a good number in the 4J lottery. It's supposed to be equitable and flexible, but it engenders a heightened sense of an educational scarcity and encourages a cult-like following in the school a family eventually chooses. I can't tell you how many frazzled parents I saw who were about to have a breakdown over the fear that they were somehow doing something wrong and about to mistakenly doom their child to a lifetime of consequences of Not Getting Into Yale.
The Child got good numbers, and we got into the Montessori system. Over the summer there had been a fire at the Montessori school, with the result that the kindergarten was no longer at the facility four blocks away. We wont discuss the Driving Habits of Other Parents (in SUVs).
I volunteered to help out with kindergarten P.E. Wow; the coach was a miracle worker, and I took several pages of notes from him.
September 2010: My story, "The View from the Top" got published on the Analog website: It was part of an experiment the Wordos did. We nailed down the main character, the setting, and the plot elements. Then everyone went out and wrote stories; the idea was to see if we could isolate parts of a story.
After we'd critiqued them, Jerry Oltion sent a packet of the stories to Stanley Schmidt, explaining what we'd done. Stanley chose Jerry's story for inclusion in the print version of the magazine, but was gracious enough to include the other stories he would have bought if he'd received them the standard way. Although it would have been nice to have the story printed, it was an honor and a thrill to be published electronically at Analog.
November 2010: I tried participating in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). That lasted about five days. Despite just writing and "daring to be bad," NaNoWriMo requires about two weeks of preparation before hand if anything is going to come out of it -- and I'd have to agree with the mother who recently wrote, "Whoever planned this thing wasn't a parent with familial expectations about Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas." One of these days I suppose I'll have NaNoWriMo in June/July.
December 2010: Was pretty much all about the lunar eclipse, which happened on the Winter Solstice. The holiday card was about the eclipse, I wrote haikus about the eclipse, and I concluded an early birthday celebration with a hike up the hill to see the eclipse.
When I think about 2010, I'd have to say that this was the year of virtual hopes and fears. So much of the focus was on the realm of ideas -- and what might or could happen.
Showing posts with label UU. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UU. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Monday, March 09, 2009
Un-UU'd
Well, it's official. I've withdrawn my membership from the Unitarian Universalist Church.When I first joined, I was really excited. I'd thought I'd found a spiritually-mindful haven from the usual Eugene Neo-Pagan scene. During the honeymoon phase it seemed like the UU's were interested in Neo-Paganism. I connected with Rev. Caroline Colbert, who had a Yoda-esque Berkeley Grandma Vibe and who could turn a political rally into a religious gathering in less than five seconds. But then she left, and I realized that people's interest was at a "spiritual tourist" level.
UUCE wasn't so bad, really; it's just that the rational folks I'd be interested in covenanting with are the ones who don't speak about [insert deity name here] in public and the the ones who are interested in Neo-Paganism are either superstitious anti-intellectuals or else they're Really Into The Goddess (No Men Allowed). And then there's the Protestant "Sermon-Sandwich."
Mark would chime in, "You're the common factor in all your failed relationships." So maybe I was off-putting in some way that turned folks away from ritual events. People here like pot-lucks a lot and I think I'd rather visit a dentist than be forced to attend one (do you know how many times I've accidentally eaten a Deadly Red Pepper at one of these pot-lucks?). And I'd be the first to admit that I had the unrealistic expectation that UUCE would provide rabbinical opportunities to discuss Neo-Pagan theology with Margot Adler clones -- so maybe that got transmitted somehow as impatience or exasperation.
What this has taught me is that
- The dominant spiritual vibe of a city cannot be escaped by changing churches.
- I must have a idiosyncratic take on Neo-Paganism that makes participating in group ritual difficult.
- Bitchiness can be a useful tool to codify one's theology, but it makes for dreary reading. And...
- I value time spent with my family or writing than I do time spent with most Neo-Pagans (or UUs).
Actually, I will go back to being a solitary Neo-Pagan practitioner, which is what I'd been prior to 2006 (and have been, really, for the last year).
Monday, November 03, 2008
Post-Halloween
Whew.
Last week was extra spacey -- I managed to forget my cell phone and wallet in Corvallis Thursday and had to drive back to retrieve them. I think I must have been pondering if I should be a UU Worship Associate very heavily. In the end I decided that it wasn't the right time to go down that path. It was hard, because I really like some sort of group; but helping out with a Protestant liturgy ultimately wasn't going to feed my Neo-Pagan soul.
We got many more trick-or-treaters this year. The signal in our neighborhood is to keep your porch light on (last year we had lots of pumpkins lit, but no porch light). Mark got a bunch of glow-sticks, which were a big hit with the kids.
The rains have returned. I'm hoping that it fixes the ground underneath our house so that the door between the kitchen and the garage goes back into alignment. Of course, it's kind of grey now, and I could feel the dopamine transmitters in my brain turning off. Or something. Looks like it's time to break out the halogen lamp and stare into it for the next six months.
Had a fun weekend with the family on the train. It's more expensive than driving, but more relaxing. Mark found a good deal, so it wasn't quite as expensive as it might have been. Our Thanksgiving Fantasy is to rent a Silver Slipper and have it do a round-trip up and down the Willamette Valley collecting relatives so no-one has to travel far for Thanksgiving Dinner.
In the writing department: Got two rejections; on presumed one on Halloween and a nice "please send us more" rejection on All Souls' Day.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Solstice
This solstice I did not lead a Neo-Pagan ritual at the UU church, as I have done the last two years. It was refreshing to attend someone else's ritual, and, as usual with UU events, challenged me. Solstice (as are the other solar station holidays) is a good time for me to re-calibrate my portable Stonehenge -- I've gotten lax about moving the day and moon markers -- and I had gotten a little out of sync.
I've probably jinxed it -- as soon as I publish this I'm sure that we'll have some horrific drought. And looking ahead, it looks like the end of this week will be pushing the upper limit of my heat comfort zone (82 F). Mark accuses me of being too intolerant, and predicts that when I'm in my seventies I'll be cranking up the heat. (Can I help it if my comfort zone is somewhat overcast between 60F and 78F?)
Solstice. Typically this means that June is winding down and we can get back to some quiet weekends start to think about painting the house.
In the dream department... the last couple of days I've had Thesis Anxiety Nightmares. Fairly typical; my printed thesis was due by the end of the day, I had all the edits written on my rough draft but not entered into my final draft, my computer was in several pieces in my office and I didn't have the right keys to unlock the door to my office...
Since I handed in my undergraduate thesis on time in 1987, I'm assuming that my subconscious thinks either I should be turning more short stories into various markets or else I need to tackle that pile of not-quite-ready-to-abandon manuscripts. Or both.
In the Muriel department; we need to clip her claws. There's one that is especially long that's going to injure her pads if we don't see to it soon. At least she has a reason to be a needy irritant.
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Rejections, Pagans, and Books
I got another rejection Friday. But I've managed to get two more short stories out.
In slightly related news, I decided that being the appointed chair of the local Covenant of UU Pagans for eighteen months was long enough and someone else could do it. I expect that I will have more time for writing now that I won't have to keep track of the ritual year and booking the UU Church in Eugene for events.
Not too many remembered dreams lately; I've been staying up too late and getting up too early. Naturally, I'm fighting off a cold.
As for The Book. I've got all my notes in place in a wiki, I think. Now I have to put them into a coherent whole. The wiki is good for linking ideas together, but the hypertext aspect of it makes for a disorganized document. I have had fun writing the opening chapter, which is called "The Purifications" -- I have to let it sit a while and go back to see if it was as funny as I thought it was when I first wrote it. Looking at the writers' guidelines for Weiser, Llewellyn and a few other presses was useful; everyone seems to want "practical" step-by-step books. I can do that; but the text I have so far is pretty theory heavy. Time to outline.
In slightly related news, I decided that being the appointed chair of the local Covenant of UU Pagans for eighteen months was long enough and someone else could do it. I expect that I will have more time for writing now that I won't have to keep track of the ritual year and booking the UU Church in Eugene for events.
Not too many remembered dreams lately; I've been staying up too late and getting up too early. Naturally, I'm fighting off a cold.
As for The Book. I've got all my notes in place in a wiki, I think. Now I have to put them into a coherent whole. The wiki is good for linking ideas together, but the hypertext aspect of it makes for a disorganized document. I have had fun writing the opening chapter, which is called "The Purifications" -- I have to let it sit a while and go back to see if it was as funny as I thought it was when I first wrote it. Looking at the writers' guidelines for Weiser, Llewellyn and a few other presses was useful; everyone seems to want "practical" step-by-step books. I can do that; but the text I have so far is pretty theory heavy. Time to outline.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Lunar Eclipse
Saw the lunar eclipse. The moon rose with a little slice out of it above the eastern hills around 6 PM. I watched it, then went off to UUCE to see if anyone would show up for the Impromptu Full Moon Ritual. No one showed up until another organizer appeared at 6:35, five minutes after the start time. We traipsed about the UUCE parking lot to see if the moon was visible from the lot, but it was too low in the sky to get above the wonderful oak trees surrounding the church. I said that I wanted to go to the Eugene reservoir on College Hill at 6:45. Another person showed up just as I was leaving. I paused to speak with her long enough for a choir member to bump his Prius into Mark's truck (twice) while trying to get out of his parking space. I moved the truck for him.
By 7 PM the moon was an umber ember in the sky near Regulus and Saturn. As I drove below the reservoir, I noticed that there were way more cars around than usual and remembered that Jerry Oltion had been on the news talking about the eclipse. So every diligent parent in a ten mile radius had brought their kids out to expose them to astronomy; this was cool from a higher education point of view, but not quite so cool from a parking point of view.
There was quite a buzz from the crowd milling about the Eugene Astronomy Club's telescopes. Somehow I managed to find Jerry's and Kathy's telescopes. I'd brought my harp, so I started playing it -- partially because I figured it would be a way for Mark to find me and partially because it would be fun to harp under a lunar eclipse. It was kind of funny, because when I started playing the folks around got much more quiet, and the buzz seemed to get less frantic.
I sat and played for a while. Several folks said "thanks," and one woman asked if I could play Clare de Lune. I managed to pick it out a little. (Thank you for not asking for Greensleeves.) It was relaxing and wonderful and I played until the moon started to come back. (OK, I played a little Smoke on the Water to end things.)
By 7 PM the moon was an umber ember in the sky near Regulus and Saturn. As I drove below the reservoir, I noticed that there were way more cars around than usual and remembered that Jerry Oltion had been on the news talking about the eclipse. So every diligent parent in a ten mile radius had brought their kids out to expose them to astronomy; this was cool from a higher education point of view, but not quite so cool from a parking point of view.
There was quite a buzz from the crowd milling about the Eugene Astronomy Club's telescopes. Somehow I managed to find Jerry's and Kathy's telescopes. I'd brought my harp, so I started playing it -- partially because I figured it would be a way for Mark to find me and partially because it would be fun to harp under a lunar eclipse. It was kind of funny, because when I started playing the folks around got much more quiet, and the buzz seemed to get less frantic.
I sat and played for a while. Several folks said "thanks," and one woman asked if I could play Clare de Lune. I managed to pick it out a little. (Thank you for not asking for Greensleeves.) It was relaxing and wonderful and I played until the moon started to come back. (OK, I played a little Smoke on the Water to end things.)
Friday, December 21, 2007
Another Yule.
This year I managed to use a magnifying glass to light a candle from the sun's rays. The candle stayed lit all day and then we used it for a Solstice Service at the local UU church. Something about the glow of candles lit from the sun is extra special to me. Now all I need is to find some really good Solstice Music. We did sing some paganized carols, but it's really not quite the same - and I did manage to re-write the last stanza of "Light is Returning" so it's not so 80's glam-rock.
This morning it was clear (for a change) and I was able to watch the sun rise (more or less). The morning was clear, though, and the leaded crystals shone their rainbows on the kitchen walls. It was very strange to see how much sunlight slants in on the western kitchen wall - especially since I know on the other end of the year it can shine in through our northern windows.
The moon is out tonight. I am hoping that I'll have a nice view of it on my birthday, which is this Monday; I don't know of any traditions about full moons on one's birthday. I think, though, that I have to wait something like nineteen years for the next time the moon is full on Dec 24.... although on Dec 25 2015 it will be full very early on that day. This Sunday should be an interesting sight, too, as Mars and the moon will be very close to each other - and by a funny coincidence, it turns out they were close to each other when I was born.
Well... off to decorate the house.
This morning it was clear (for a change) and I was able to watch the sun rise (more or less). The morning was clear, though, and the leaded crystals shone their rainbows on the kitchen walls. It was very strange to see how much sunlight slants in on the western kitchen wall - especially since I know on the other end of the year it can shine in through our northern windows.
The moon is out tonight. I am hoping that I'll have a nice view of it on my birthday, which is this Monday; I don't know of any traditions about full moons on one's birthday. I think, though, that I have to wait something like nineteen years for the next time the moon is full on Dec 24.... although on Dec 25 2015 it will be full very early on that day. This Sunday should be an interesting sight, too, as Mars and the moon will be very close to each other - and by a funny coincidence, it turns out they were close to each other when I was born.
Well... off to decorate the house.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Kvetching
Well . . . I seem to be getting back into a space that is functional after OryCon. Last week I felt tired, and then we had holiday obligations -- which were fun, but I didn't get much writing done. The best thing was probably seeing my Grandmother enjoy Thanksgiving; she was really present for the meal. And then there was that CUUPs ritual I led Friday night. Boy, was that a time sink... I guess I'm glad that the ritual happened because there was some time to dance under the full moon light; but I spent about six or more hours making posters, sending out e-mail reminders, mixing pagan songs, and constructing props for a fourty-five minute dance ritual that was attended by three adults and two children. And I was the only male. At least I wasn't the only one present, which was what it looked like would happen about a minute before the ritual was supposed to start.
I'm at the point where I need to evaluate what kind of return I'm getting from my time investment. I mean... if I'm wanting ritual for numinous moments, meditating in the woods is more likely to do something for me than Raising the Cone of Power with a bunch of UU folks. And I can't seem to get into any really good theological discussions, either...
So, on to writing. Today I managed to go through two stories and they're at a point where I think if I work on them any more I'm going to start to break them. So it's off to my wise readers. I seem to be getting a lot done at the (big box) bookstore I've been travelling to, but I do find myself wishing that the store A) was closer to where I live, B) open until 11 PM instead of 10 PM, and C) less likely to be filled with students masquerading as refugees from Friends. Unfortunately, the local library, which is what I probably really want, closes at 8 PM. At least there's hot chocolate at the bookstore.
Mark has send, "Go write!" So this weekend it looks like I'm going to be writing by myself in near Redmond, Oregon. Time to get the writing mix tapes set up. I'll see if I can take hourly pictures of my progress. It should be in the mid-twenties (at least at night) so I shouldn't be too tempted to wander around being distracted by potential numinous moments near the Deschutes River. Perhaps I will have a theological discussion with a juniper, though.
Murial continues to be a loud irritant.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
More Pagan Song Goofiness
I managed to finish up the script for Sunday's Worship Service. Now I'll have to rehearse it a few times to make sure I can sing all the songs I'm making people sing. One of the songs we're singing is "Air I Am," which is one of my favorites. However, while I was puzzling out what songs to sing, I made a discovery; one can sing the words "Sam I Am / Sam I Am / Do you like green eggs and ham?" to the tune of "Air I Am." I was so tempted to make the Unitarian Universalists sing this, but I figured some of the more serious pagans would start talking behind my back. Maybe we can have an April 1 service some time.
I decided to ditch a truncated chorus from "Circles" for this weekend's concluding spiral dance in favor of "We Come from the Water," which I first heard Henry Belafonte sing on "The Muppet Show" (gee, that dates me). When I found the song in a pagan song book, I was horrified to see that the song's title was "We Come from de Water." I'm still not sure if I'm more horrified by the implied racism that Africans can't pronounced the word "the" or (ala Henry Higgins) by the propagation of poor English.
I also managed to submit a story (finally) to Clarksworld.
Happy first full day of Summer -- darkness is rising!
I decided to ditch a truncated chorus from "Circles" for this weekend's concluding spiral dance in favor of "We Come from the Water," which I first heard Henry Belafonte sing on "The Muppet Show" (gee, that dates me). When I found the song in a pagan song book, I was horrified to see that the song's title was "We Come from de Water." I'm still not sure if I'm more horrified by the implied racism that Africans can't pronounced the word "the" or (ala Henry Higgins) by the propagation of poor English.
I also managed to submit a story (finally) to Clarksworld.
Happy first full day of Summer -- darkness is rising!
Monday, June 11, 2007
Children & Phillip Pullman
Pictures of Arthur's birthday are coming soon.
In the meantime, I've been working on the songs that I want the UU congregation to sing during the June 24th Worship Service than I'm leading. I was thinking that it might be fun to sing a variation on "Light is Returning," with the re-worked verse for the Summe Solstice:
I know that I would laugh, but I think most folks would be unfamiliar with the more regular lyrics of the song to get the joke. And in any case, the normal lryics include the worisome phrase "Earth Mother is calling her children home." What the heck does that mean, any way: Are we as pagans supposed to take the role of children? If we're on the planet earth, how can we have left it to be called home? I've settled on part of the song, "Circles," which has the equally worrisome phrase, "We are the children of the Lord and the Lady." I've cut that part out for the service, but still there's that cognative dissonance of being an actuated adult singing about one's relationship between one's self and diety as if it were a chapter on CHILD-PARENT interactions from "I'm OK; You're OK."
I think share Phillip Pullman's attitudes about religion being something that speaks to one as a child and as an adult instead of something that requires that one regress to (or stagnate in) a child's development. Yes, mystery and humor are important elements of religion, and I think one can achieve a pagan state of mystery and humor without confounding one's gods with one's parents or breaking out the fairy deely-bopper antennae.
Now, if I could only find some pagan songs that weren't jejune. I guess I'll have to wait for a pagan Handel or Bach.
In the meantime, I've been working on the songs that I want the UU congregation to sing during the June 24th Worship Service than I'm leading. I was thinking that it might be fun to sing a variation on "Light is Returning," with the re-worked verse for the Summe Solstice:
Dark is returning
Even though this is the brightest hour.
Nobody can hold back the dusk.
I know that I would laugh, but I think most folks would be unfamiliar with the more regular lyrics of the song to get the joke. And in any case, the normal lryics include the worisome phrase "Earth Mother is calling her children home." What the heck does that mean, any way: Are we as pagans supposed to take the role of children? If we're on the planet earth, how can we have left it to be called home? I've settled on part of the song, "Circles," which has the equally worrisome phrase, "We are the children of the Lord and the Lady." I've cut that part out for the service, but still there's that cognative dissonance of being an actuated adult singing about one's relationship between one's self and diety as if it were a chapter on CHILD-PARENT interactions from "I'm OK; You're OK."
I think share Phillip Pullman's attitudes about religion being something that speaks to one as a child and as an adult instead of something that requires that one regress to (or stagnate in) a child's development. Yes, mystery and humor are important elements of religion, and I think one can achieve a pagan state of mystery and humor without confounding one's gods with one's parents or breaking out the fairy deely-bopper antennae.
Now, if I could only find some pagan songs that weren't jejune. I guess I'll have to wait for a pagan Handel or Bach.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
You Are Getting Sleepy
The last few days have been a bit of a blur. Arthur has been really cranky, going from zero to sixty to zero to sixty to zero. He's also been waking up at ungodly hours. I think there might be a tooth involved. It got so bad that Saturday we took him to the doctor to make sure that the problem wasn't his ears (he'd been on antibiotics a few weeks earlier for a slight ear infection). The doctor at the Saturday clinic pronounced his ears "dull" but not infected (and therefore not the source of Arthur's frequent and violent mood swings).
When it's mostly sunny and in the seventies, like today, the best solution seems to be to let him run loose at a park. I have a feeling a giant hamster wheel may be looming for those rainy days. On bad days, when Arthur doesn't get what he wants -- oh the high drama! -- I suppose that it's wrong to want to laugh when he hits his forehead on the floor (on purpose) and then says, "Youch!"
On the other hand, when he's not having a melt-down, Arthur's one of the most even-tempered kids I've met -- I don't know too many twenty-two month olds who would put up with fourty-five minutes of seeing a home show from a backpack.
This weekend was a domestic weekend. Mark was a sweetie and put a cap on our chimney; the chimney swifts wont be happy, but at least we wont have to listen to baby swifts being fed at odd hours of the day. We also did yard maintainence, and I think the drabness of last year was due in part from neglect from the house's previous tenants. We're taking a wait-and-see approach to the yard; once we've figured out what everything is, I think we'll remove a few odd choices in shrub placement and only add sunflowers, irises and strawberries to the current plantings.
This evening Mark watched Arthur while I got to speak as the neopagan speaker at a Interfaith Prayer and Reflection Service. It was interesting and educational. There were several times when the dome of the church the service was held in reflected conversations into my ears and it was all I could do not to say, "I can hear you." I'll have to work that into a story...
My presentation was a four minute guided meditation on air, fire, water and earth. I worried that it would be too rushed to be meaningful, but my radio voice saved me. (Afterwards, several folks wondered if I worked in radio and two more jokingly wanted to know if I had any hypnosis tapes.) The event was well received and I think CUUPs might see a jump in interest.
Well... off to bed so that when Arthur wakes up at an ungodly hour (on daylight savings time) I'll be coherant.
When it's mostly sunny and in the seventies, like today, the best solution seems to be to let him run loose at a park. I have a feeling a giant hamster wheel may be looming for those rainy days. On bad days, when Arthur doesn't get what he wants -- oh the high drama! -- I suppose that it's wrong to want to laugh when he hits his forehead on the floor (on purpose) and then says, "Youch!"
On the other hand, when he's not having a melt-down, Arthur's one of the most even-tempered kids I've met -- I don't know too many twenty-two month olds who would put up with fourty-five minutes of seeing a home show from a backpack.
This weekend was a domestic weekend. Mark was a sweetie and put a cap on our chimney; the chimney swifts wont be happy, but at least we wont have to listen to baby swifts being fed at odd hours of the day. We also did yard maintainence, and I think the drabness of last year was due in part from neglect from the house's previous tenants. We're taking a wait-and-see approach to the yard; once we've figured out what everything is, I think we'll remove a few odd choices in shrub placement and only add sunflowers, irises and strawberries to the current plantings.
This evening Mark watched Arthur while I got to speak as the neopagan speaker at a Interfaith Prayer and Reflection Service. It was interesting and educational. There were several times when the dome of the church the service was held in reflected conversations into my ears and it was all I could do not to say, "I can hear you." I'll have to work that into a story...
My presentation was a four minute guided meditation on air, fire, water and earth. I worried that it would be too rushed to be meaningful, but my radio voice saved me. (Afterwards, several folks wondered if I worked in radio and two more jokingly wanted to know if I had any hypnosis tapes.) The event was well received and I think CUUPs might see a jump in interest.
Well... off to bed so that when Arthur wakes up at an ungodly hour (on daylight savings time) I'll be coherant.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
Summer Solstice
The weather I hate is back. It's currently 83 F inside the house and 95 F outside. The house typically lags about ten degrees F behind the outside. If it reaches 100 F today (and it did), the house won't cool down to 80 F until about ten o'clock tonight (and it did).
I wish it would rain. A lot. (At least Tuesday it's only 85 F.)
Arthur has generalized his sign language again. Mark is now "the bubble dad" and I'm "the harp dad." He requests bubbles and harping on an hourly basis. Just now he asked for the harp (over Cheerioes) so he could fall asleep.
He is getting a little perfunctory with the sign for more, too; I'm not so sure about this sign-language thing -- Arthur seems to think he's at some sort of spa.
Sunday the Unitarians let me do a presentation on neo-paganism and Wicca with a Wicca-style ritual as a part of their Sunday worship service. A woman named Martha was the day's worship associate (a kind of lay minister). She was introduced to Wicca about the same time I was, so we split up ritual duties. The lecture was humorous, and the curious got information out of it. The Tree of Life guided meditation went well, and the mystics had a numinous moment (at least I did, sort of). And everyone thought the spiral dance at the end was fun (although I did think I was going to drop my harp in the middle).
The service went very well. No one has set a question mark on fire in front of my lawn. With any luck, as a result, a Covenent of Unitarian Universalist Pagans group will start up at the church.
Let's see. We closed on the new house. We signed a zillion papers last Wednesday (the Solstice) I think it gets recorded Wednesday (tomorrow), at which point we'll be the official owners. The sellers fixed many of the problems, and all of the ones that were safety issues (like making sure the wall outlets were properly grounded). Before we move in the house will need to be cleaned, and we'll probably repaint.
I think the kitchen is ... well... oppressively uninspired, cheap, and institutional. And it doesn't match the rest of the house (neither does the bathroom). Mark thinks we should sand down all the cabinets and see what kind of wood they're made out of -- if it's nice wood, we could stain it to match the floors. And the kitchen's (and bedrooms') light fixtures have to be sent back to Tragicistan. Although I'm not usually a big fan of exposed wire track lights, I think they would do well in the kitchen in a retro kind of way.
I'm sure Mark and I will have many things (colors, lights, stencils, shrubbery, finance) to discuss over the next few weeks.
I wish it would rain. A lot. (At least Tuesday it's only 85 F.)
Arthur has generalized his sign language again. Mark is now "the bubble dad" and I'm "the harp dad." He requests bubbles and harping on an hourly basis. Just now he asked for the harp (over Cheerioes) so he could fall asleep.
He is getting a little perfunctory with the sign for more, too; I'm not so sure about this sign-language thing -- Arthur seems to think he's at some sort of spa.
Sunday the Unitarians let me do a presentation on neo-paganism and Wicca with a Wicca-style ritual as a part of their Sunday worship service. A woman named Martha was the day's worship associate (a kind of lay minister). She was introduced to Wicca about the same time I was, so we split up ritual duties. The lecture was humorous, and the curious got information out of it. The Tree of Life guided meditation went well, and the mystics had a numinous moment (at least I did, sort of). And everyone thought the spiral dance at the end was fun (although I did think I was going to drop my harp in the middle). 
The service went very well. No one has set a question mark on fire in front of my lawn. With any luck, as a result, a Covenent of Unitarian Universalist Pagans group will start up at the church.
Let's see. We closed on the new house. We signed a zillion papers last Wednesday (the Solstice) I think it gets recorded Wednesday (tomorrow), at which point we'll be the official owners. The sellers fixed many of the problems, and all of the ones that were safety issues (like making sure the wall outlets were properly grounded). Before we move in the house will need to be cleaned, and we'll probably repaint. 
I think the kitchen is ... well... oppressively uninspired, cheap, and institutional. And it doesn't match the rest of the house (neither does the bathroom). Mark thinks we should sand down all the cabinets and see what kind of wood they're made out of -- if it's nice wood, we could stain it to match the floors. And the kitchen's (and bedrooms') light fixtures have to be sent back to Tragicistan. Although I'm not usually a big fan of exposed wire track lights, I think they would do well in the kitchen in a retro kind of way.
I'm sure Mark and I will have many things (colors, lights, stencils, shrubbery, finance) to discuss over the next few weeks.
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