Reminiscing.

There is little good sense that circumstances cannot pervert.

 

The Insomniacs' Union

As a teenager, I frequently arrived home late at night or stayed up late-especially on the weekends.  My grandmother lived with us, and it was not infrequent that I would run into her at two in the morning, making herself a snack in the kitchen.  Her complaint was always the same.  She had "leg cramps".  It wasn't until I started experiencing my own "leg cramps" that I realized she probably had what we now call "restless legs syndrome".

My own sleeping habits are now similar to my grandmother's.  It isn't unusual for me to get up after trying to sleep for a couple of hours and hang out in the kitchen.  Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night and need to move about.  If I exercise during the day, my legs don't usually bother me at night.  Failure to run or bike is almost a guarantee for sleeping problems.

The past two nights, our daughter has woken in the middle of the night, gotten out of bed, and come to find her Mom.  Should she and I start a union for insomniacs?

Cooking With Evy

"Dada!"  Although I had barely gotten the door closed behind me, my 21 month old daughter was eagerly beckoning to me.  She and my wife were sitting on the bench at the kitchen table.  Actually, she was standing on the bench.

My wife looked wryly at me and said "Welcome to cooking with Evy."  I was a bit confused, but I approached the table for further instructions.

"Dada, nee" she said emphatically while patting the bench next to her.  In case you don't speak Holbrook vernacular, nee clearly means "sit".  I did.  It was then that I realized what I had walked into. 

The child had a frying pan on the kitchen table, and she was making good use of it for "cooking" a scone that she rescued from my wife's purse while snooping.  The poor scone had seen better days.  It was freshly salted and peppered (did I mention that it was a blueberry scone?), and some water had been splashed on it for good measure.

While I looked on in fascination, she used a spatula to shuffle the goopy mess around the pan.  Apparently she had commandeered the scone, then she liberated the frying pan from a cupboard and arranged them on the table.  Finally, she was forced to ask her mother for the spatula.

"Dada!"  My attention refocused on the poor scone.  She was pointing at it.  Clearly she intended for me to try her delicious creation.  There was no way I was eating even a little bit of soggy, salted, peppery scone.

"Why don't I let you have the first bite?" I asked, while turning the offer back to her.  She laughed maniacally at me.  Clearly that was out of the question.  In fact, I could tell by her laughing that her serious insistence that I try the scone was a rouse.  She had already tried it, and she was just trying to find another sucker to suffer through it with her.

A Cornucopia Of Father's Day Goodness

What an awesome weekend!  When you're in school, and working full time, it is amazing what a psychological drag school can be.  My current class isn't difficult, but it is ever-present.  Friday I took the day off from work and wrote my final paper.  The rest of the weekend was correspondingly so much nicer!

On Sunday, I got the royal treatment.  Pancakes for breakfast, corned beef for dinner, a canoe trip, and a bike ride with my two favorite ladies.  They also picked up the Sports Illustrated Wings\Stanley Cup magazine and the coolest book ever (perhaps).

The Boy Mechanic Makes Toys actually has plans for making a toy steam engine.  Yes, it actually uses steam.  The book also contains detailed plans for making an ice boat.  Not a miniature one, a full sized one.  When Evelyn gets just a bit bigger, we are going to have way too much fun with the book.

As if that weren't enough, Aimee made time for me to tinker last night as well.  I drilled the 144 holes for one of my new projects, finished a circuit design, and printed the circuit.  Twice, actually.  While waiting for the printing process to finish I also connected my recently assembled Hobby CNC Driver Board to one of my stepper motors.  When I turned on the power, the motor tensed up.  It was a shock.  Nothing ever works the first time.  So I plugged the board into my computer.  After rooting about for the right software, I finally dredged it up and tried it out.  After some mild swearing I realized that I was pushing the wrong button.  The board worked perfectly on one axis, and I suspect the other two will also work just fine.

To top it all off, we even got to bed at a mostly reasonable hour and had time to read.  A completely perfect day!

DevTeach 2008, Toronto!

Yesterday was the first day of DevTeach 08.  Actually, it was the pre-conference.  The session I did was really great, although it was very long and dense.  The instructor had planned an 11 hour session and had to compact it down to only 8 hours.

When I arrived yesterday morning for the session, I came down the escalator to the conference level.  There was a great spread of coffee, rolls, donuts, and juice.  The first thing I noticed was that everyone hovering around the food tables was wearing a suit.  Then I noticed the fellow shooing the hungry geeks away from the table.  Apparently there was a law firm conference yesterday.  The contrast of processionals made me smile.

It's all about the service

Last evening we had dinner at a nice restaurant.  We wouldn't have stopped, except the hostess was outside and she flagged us down to chat with Evelyn.  After wandering back and forth a bit, we came back to the restaurant because she was so nice.  The hostess and waiter were both saints, which is a good thing because Evelyn was far too tired last night.

Is this good?

The obvious question is "If your short attention span prevents you from swiping a credit card, should you be driving?"

Maybe if we raised the bar, instead of lowering it, attention spans would be climbing instead of declining.  Practice does make perfect, after all.