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for five hours

Hi friends, happy Tuesday to ya.

The smoke around our burg is even thicker and heavier and nastier than yesterday.  The news says to keep the kids inside or their lungs might bleed.  OK, they didn’t say that – but it’s really bad out there.  The sunlight is all brown and orange and muted and hollow, and everything smells like a smoldering swamp.  We’re wreathed by fire, so say the headlines.  “Fire season,” apparently.  There’s actually a season for that, I guess.

Work was busy today.  Got a lot done, felt accomplished.  Even still, I found time to call and reserve wilderness permits for our planned John Muir Trail “redo” later this summer.  That’s right, in the face of the weather-forced failure Anthony and I had last year, we decided we wanted to have another go at finishing up what we missed last time  So, early in September Anthony and I, with the happy addition of Ben and Erik, will be setting out from our stopping point last time and finishing up the half-through hike.  The idea being that we can maybe complete the entire trail like this in pieces over time, maybe even finishing up in 2009.

Anyway, the acquisition of passes makes it all the more real to me, and I’m tremendously excited about spending five days on the trail hiking through the Sierra backcountry.  Not too long from now, I’ll be posting a detailed day-by-day itinerary similar to what I did last time around here, so those with more than a passing interest can checkout our intended route.  I’m just  elated that we’ve secured the trailhead and are now concrete in our plans.  It’s hard to think that it’s only a couple months off.  With luck, we’ll miss any early snows this time around.

You know, my job sometimes affords me the opportunity to listen to quite a bit of music.  And, on days when there are few meetings (it’s typically a rarity, but today was one such day), I can basically spend my time permanently be-headphoned while I write e-mails or draft PowerPoints or excel at Excel.  Today, I felt like I got to listen to a ton of music.  So, I decided to go back and take a peek at the iPod to see exactly what all had graced my ears.  And, turns out it was easy enough to copy/paste that list out of iTunes – so I decided I’d share it here (for whatever reason).  May I then present to you: What I heard, June 24, 2008:

Started out the day giving that new Wolf Parade album another spin before I switched to my typical random-listening use model.  Some good stuff in there, eh?

Not sure you’re as fast or accurate with figurin’ as I am, but see if you don’t sum that righthand column and get pert near five hours of listening.  Yeah?  Wow, that’s a lot of music for one day I’d say.  When I was in school, I used to dream of a job where I could listen to music all day as I worked.  And, looking at that list, it sure looks like my wish came true.  (Now, to just sit back and wait to meet Tiffany Amber Thiessen and win the lottery…)

Well, that’s about it for tonight.  I’m gonna try and get another set of pictures posted to Keaton’s gallery shortly here (I’m about a month behind).  Keep an eye out for that, OK?  OK.

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all ugly bruise-yellow

Hey y’all.

Totally Monday here, and the smoke around Ourtown, CA is stinky and so thick it makes the sunshine come through all ugly bruise-yellow.  The news said I shouldn’t go outside, as the air was bad to breath.  Let’s think on that: The air is bad to breath.  Where can I run?

As I walked to my car after work and looked off into the hazy distance, I tired to imagine this place void of all modern construction: Rolling foothills of mostly grass and dotted with trees and loose rocks of all sizes.  I pictured a tribe of Native Americans encamped in one of those copses of trees, maybe near a small stream or decent hunting – and tried to imagine what the blanket of rank smoke would have meant to them.  Move; maybe.  Pick up stakes; fire is coming.  Check which way the wind is blowing and throw the kids in their papooses and head right along with it.  Life sure is easier when you can hit the grocery store with a rock from your couch.

I worked a little bit tonight on setting up a blog for Sharaun.  See, she’s been asking me for a while if she can have a blog (she reads some other “mom blogs” I frequent).  She’s not sure she’d be diligent enough to write regularly, but I figured I’d set something up for her and let her play around to see if she likes it.  She mostly wants to tell stories about, and post pictures of, Keaton.  Secretly, I think this would be awesome – and I kinda wish she’d decide to do it.  Anyway, once she’s up and running I’ll see about getting a link here on my  blog so you can check her out.

Gosh.  I just have nothing left to write.  I was so happy it was cool enough to open up the house last night after the sun went down – then I remembered the smoke.  I did it anyway.

Saving money.  Goodnight.

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jailbreak!

Sunday afternoon ’round about four o’clock and Radiohead has shuffled up on the iPod.  I just got done doing dishes and wiping down the counters and kitchen table (an extended Dead jam provided the sonic backdrop whilst I Cinderella’d).  Sharaun’s out in the hammock sunning and Keaton’s asleep.  What better time to crack the top on a Hefeweizen and sit down on the couch to tome (yeah, I verbized it).

It was a busy weekend, and it felt extra long, I think because I flew in on Friday and went straight to socializing, I remember I couldn’t stop feeling like it was Saturday night as we sat and played Euchre.  Maybe that’s the trick: get your brain to think it’s the next day, and then you get a “bonus” day each weekend.  Don’t know how to reproduce it, though, aside from the fog of traveling – and I don’t like the tradeoff.  So I guess I’ll just settle for the standard two-day weekends I’ve come to know and cherish… as there really the only sanctioned escape we get, eh?  Right.  Moving on.

For this next paragraph, I’ll ask you to recall a blog from not that long ago, where I wrote right here on sounds familiar about my “fear” concerning Keaton eventually learning to baby-Houdini her way out of her Pack ‘N’ Play.  Do you indeed recall, my dear reader?  You guys even commented on it.  Well, some of you guys (gals, whatever).  Still no?  It’s OK, I’ll link the thing right here and you can go refresh yoself.  Yoself refreshed?  OK then.

Well, going back for a moment to that Friday night I kept thinking was Saturday earlier this weekend (remember, you just read it) – it happened.  Yup.  As I cast my memory back over the past couple evenings, lemme see if I can set the scene for y’all.  We had gathered with a small group of friends at one of their houses to play some cards and hang out, and Sharaun had just put Keaton down to bed in her Pack ‘N’ Play in one of their spare rooms.  It was a hard-fought bedtime to begin with, as our friends have two young kids as well and one big playroom which bulges with toys – each one of them new and exciting for Keaton, not to mention the chance to play with other kids.  But Sharaun put up a valiant fight, singing our little angel into droopy eyes and metered deep breathing, sneaking out the door with a the loud smack of an air-kiss and a “Goodnight Keaton.”

And, with her down and quiet, we broke out the cards and began the first hand.  Cards were dealt, the girls bid six diamonds, the guys, one by one around the table, passed.  Cards came out, tricks were taken, and a good time was being had by all.  Then, out of nowhere, I see a little crop of blonde hair bouncing up the two flights of stairs towards where we were seated.  “Hey mommy look I woke up!,” smiled our triumphant baby.  “How the…,” Sharaun and I asked, looking at each other.  And then it hit me: She figured out how to climb free of the confines of the Pack ‘N’ Play.  Horror of horrors: She’s mobile.  (Well, to be brutally honest, as a dad, I was actually a little proud that she’d managed to climb out – that she was big and strong enough and not too scared to do it, but don’t tell Sharaun that).

Sharaun was not happy, and she scooped up babygirl without even giving me a chance to give her a second goodnight kiss to transport her back to bed.  After another ten minutes or so, she returned, lamenting that Keaton still wasn’t “having it.”  And, another five minutes after that – as we’d barely gotten into our second hands – she came trotting up the stairs once again.  Our friends laughed, and I had to just a little too (and again, her having done it second time only made me more proud because she could reproduce the feat).  I asked her, “Keaton, how did you get out of your Pack ‘N’ Play?”  “Because I wanted to play,” she answered, mishearing or misunderstanding the question.  “Yes, I know you want to play, but it’s time to sleep now baby.  Did you climb out of your Pack ‘N’ Play?”  “Yeah,” she answered, unconcerned as to whether it was “sleep time” or not.

In the end, we put her down in the crib our friends had setup in another room in preparation for their coming third.  She finally ended up hitting the sack then, but it was lucky the crib was there.  Funny enough, the next night saw us out socializing again and I put her down in the Pack ‘N’ Play with nary an issue (OK, she fought me on the sleep thing just a bit, but what two-year old doesn’t?).  So, I think she just wanted us to know that she can get out – if she wants to.  Well played Keaton, well played.  Man I love that little girl.

Goodnight fevers and dreams, goodnight lovers.

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somebody set me up the bomb

Man is it ever a blue-sky gorgeous day up here in Oregon.

I mean, the weather is about as perfect as anyone could ask for.  One thing about Oregon, when the weather is on, it’s on.  One other thing about Oregon, the weather is hardly ever on, and when it’s off it’s off. But today, it’s definitely on.  Blue skies with just enough wispy white clouds for accent, and temperatures in the mid 70s.  Anyway, it’s not that beautiful from within the walls of this stupid cubicle… but I still have the memories from the minute I was outside the car and restaurant at lunch.  Savoring them now…

I got ambushed at work today friends; straight-up entrapped, set-up.

See, I was asked to come up here today for what’s known at my sawmill as a “face to face” meeting.  This is where a bunch of people who work together “virtually” on a daily basis physically come to a central location and meet each other, well, face-to-face.  It’s a common meeting here, and also a very valuable one.  It’s my belief that you can talk to someone for years over the phone and through e-mail and never really “get them” at all.  One lunch sitting across from each other though, one beer after a conference, and you can “feel out” personality quirks, working styles, and all other manner of useful (read: exploitable) information about coworkers you’ve only known as voices.  So, anyway, I was looking forward to the face to face.

My role in the meeting, as communicated to me beforehand by the meeting organizer, was simply to meet, greet, and listen.  There was a published agenda, and I wasn’t on it.  So for me this was more of a networking trip than a working one, at least as far as the face-to-face goes.  But, about an hour into the meeting, they turned on me y’all.  I was handed the plug for the projector and the entire room turned to me as the leader said, “Dave, do you want to present your material now?”

My material?  My material?!

My face was hot, I was stammering.  People were looking at me, I was still holding the cable for the projector… hovering it near my laptop like I might hook it up.  But for what?  I have no “material;” I have nothing to share, I’ve prepared zero.  I’m not even on the agenda.  No one told me I was supposed to present, no one asked me to bring data – I’m just here to shake hands and exchange business cards and ask how your kids are doing.  I do the only thing I can think of:

“I didn’t actually prepare any material for this discussion, as it wasn’t on the agenda,” I said, regaining a little piece of my composure as I did, each word coming out in a voice a little more confident than the last.  “I can, however, give a brief verbal update.”  I proceeded to talk, talk, and talk.  I wasn’t really sure where I was going, but at least I was dumping real information – facts.  You can’t call me on facts, even if they are things that won’t become fact for months.  I start to see heads nodding along with me, I hear “mmms” of approval and understanding.  It’s working… I’ve got ’em.

But then, just as I thought I was beginning to roll: A challenge.  Someone asks me when they can have my information, wants to pin me down to days and hours and minutes if he can.  Information that I’ve not created yet, and now they’re telling me they need it yesterday and I’m holding up their schedule.  The tone in the room changes, gets more aggressive towards me.  “Tell you what,” I say, “We need some more information from you too before we have the whole picture here.  Surely my piece isn’t the only piece causing delay. When do you plan to have your data available?”  “Any day now,” the challenger replies.  “That’s my timeline too, then,” I reply, a little smug.  I mean, vague is OK for you – it must be for me too, right?

“Well, let’s put a date on it…” he follows.  “OK,” I say, “When can you have your data ready?”

What’s this?  What have I done here?  Now who’s on the spot, Mr. Challenger?

“I can have mine in two weeks,” he says.  “Then so can I,” I reply.

Done.  Didn’t exactly turn the tables, but at least got 100% of the heat off me.  Still, wasn’t my best showing by a long shot.

Thing is, I know these guys are antsy to have some particular data for me.  I should’ve been able to read the ruse, to see their game, and could’ve come in over-prepared.  I wish to the Heavens that I’d had that foresight and come in with a fully decked-out presentation I could throw up on the projector – man I wish.  But nope, I had to wing it.   Next time, perhaps… I’ll be a little more cautious, a bit more suspicious of motivations.  Da bidness world is hardcore, y’allz… hardcore gangsta bidness.

The day ended a lot better though.  I drew up in front of my folks’ place (where I stay when I have to work from the Oregon sawmill), and we went out for dinner at one of my favorite outdoor pub-eatery places.  It was a long relaxed dinner over beers, a good time.  Fine way to turn around an off day.

And now, I’m off to bed and then back on a plane tomorrow.  Have a good weekend readers, I love you.

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walk, cake, pack, sleep

Another day at work.

A friend from Shanghai was in town so we all went to lunch.  Last time I had a meal with him it was at an outside cafe in Bangalore, India.  This time we had Italian right here in town.  When we got back to the office, he came over to my desk and presented me with gifts for both Keaton and Sharaun.  The Chinese culture sure is a gift-giving one.  Keaton got this little bobble-type figurines, what look like grandparents, the woman with a fan and the man with a pipe.  Sharaun got a wine bag/cover thing, deep green faux silk with Chinese characters on it.  So thoughtful.

After dinner tonight Sharaun and I and Keaton took a family walk.  We hoofed our way over to the house of some friends of ours to check their garden while they’re away traveling.  And even though their wasn’t much of a harvest reaped, we did have a nice walk at least.  I like walking past the lines of homes in suburbia, I’ve always had a fascination with the little microcosms of other peoples’ lives that goes on inside them.  I walk past and look at things like how they keep their yard, what cars they drive, if their lights are on, and what I can scent as we pass by.  The guy with the six cars is doing laundry, I can smell his dryer exhaust; and someone at the house with brown-dead front lawn is grilling over charcoal out back.  The family at 703 just put down a new layer of mulch around the trees and planters, looks sharp.

As soon as we got home it was time to put Keaton down, and now I have to get an outfit packed for the second day of my overnight two-day-quick trip to Oregon tomorrow.  I’m shooting for an early bedtime (I did back out of the concert plans after all) so I won’t be quite so burned out on the plane tomorrow.  Sharaun bought this little two-serving piece of chocolate cake when she went up to the grocery store, and I think I’m gonna have my half with a glass of milk here soon (she ate hers as soon as we got back from our walk, she has a weakness for chocolate).  And now, it’s something around ten o’clock and I’ve really done nothing.

Until Oregon then, keep your monitors warm for another round.  Goodnight friends.

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too old for all this

Hi guys.  It’s Tuesday.  I finally uploaded some new pictures of Keaton to the gallery, go ahead and go check them out now before you come back and read another enthralling installment of sounds familiar.

Didn’t end up going to bed Monday night until nigh on one in the morning. That’s not good. I got caught up twiddling with the bootleg MP3-tagging script I wrote so long ago, after I discovered a bug while trying to tag-up some illicit Zeppelin files. Seems like I mess with the thing a couple times a year… maybe it’s good for me, keeps my coding kung-fu on-point (or something). I got up early to shave, too, being that my beard had degenerated into a twisted mess marching down to meet the chest hair curling skyward. It’s like the two are long-lost lovers, the evil Gillette corporation keeping them apart.

I’m supposed to go to a concert tonight in the city, The Fratellis.  Problem is, I leave for Portland tomorrow morning at 6am, which means I’ll need to be at the airport by 5am, which means I’ll need to leave the house around 4:30am, which means I’ll need to wake up around 4am.  Now, I don’t know how many of you have lived in the city I live in and gone to a show in San Francisco – but, if you had, you’d realize that you rarely get home before 2am afterward.  And, if you passed 3rd grade math you’ll realize that I’d be getting, at best, two hours of sleep tonight before having to wake and head out again for my flight.  So, long story short, I think I’m gonna bail on the concertgoing crowd and spend my time packing and getting an early hay-hitting time.

I’m just too old for all this.

Last night as Sharaun was putting Keaton to bed, she (Keaton) said, “Mommy, I recognize there’s no ducky on the wall.”  What she meant by that was that Sharaun hadn’t yet done the pre-bedtime nightlight shadow-ducky thing we do with her, but… “recognize?” Sometimes I wonder where she gets her words from.  I don’t think we  even use the word “recognize” that much… and I’m pretty sure I haven’t heard it on the Backyardigans.  That kid and her oratory-wizardry blow me away.

Goodnight.

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fresh veggies & blue water

Monday night and it’s an 11pm start. As I write these words, I’m sort of doubtful I’ll even hit the “publish” button tonight. But I figured I’d give it a go, because I’m a sport. We were out most of the night, having just returned from a movie with friends (an in-home movie, none of that fancy pre-kid theater stuff). Their place is close, just down the road a piece from us, in fact. Since we had some time before having to be there, I speed-mowed the lawn and showered before departing. And, being that it was a busy and productive day at work today, the mowing and movie-watching made it feel right productive.

I’m taking care of a friend’s place while he and his wife are off on sabbatical (sabbatical, for those new to the blog, is the eight-week vacation my sawmill gives it’s workforce every seven years). I’m supposed to go mow the lawn a few times, pick the ripes from the garden, and monitor the pool. As much as I loathe mowing lawns, I agreed to do the task for a couple reasons. One: I want to be a good friend. Two: I had seized on the job as a way to bond with Keaton a little. Not the lawn-mowing part, but the pool-caring and garden-harvesting parts, rather. My plan is to pack her up in the bike-trailer and ride over (I suppose you think all our friends live close, eh?) to pick tomatoes and green beans and whatnot, then check the chemistry and water level in the pool byt the most accurate means I know of: the “immersion method.”

I have all this stuff I wanted to do on the blog this week.  I wanted to post new pictures of Keaton (I’m way behind), I wanted to do my half-year best-of list, and I wanted to post a new poll.  I’m not sure, what with the trip to Oregon and stuff… I’ll try.

Goodnight.