The blog Indirect Observations gave a positive review to my latest book, “Hikes with Tykes: Games and Activities” on Monday day. In doing so, it ran a picture of the book's cover, which has you on it, and some background information about us and all of the hikes we've done over the years.
The blog also ran a picture of the author's son, a little boy who looks to be your age and dressed in his wildnerness explorer hat even looked a bit like you. The author wrote a very nice paragraph about how she and her son tried one of the games in the book and with great results! I guess the fun we had together is something other parents and their children also love to do!
Hopefully in another week or so I'll have all of this court stuff resolved so we can be together once again - and then have all kinds of fun once more!
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
First time you ever enjoyed popcorn
You might remember this story that I used to tell you about when you were a baby - no more than nine or 10 months old - about when I had made popcorn one evening. I sat in my lap, snug against my left side, as I watched television with a bowl of hot buttered popcorn tucked against my right side.
Once I started eating the popcorn, you sniffed the air and looked at me with this facial expression that said, "Can I have some, too?"
Because you didn't have any teeth yet, I was worried that you might choke on it, so I broke off a bit of the popcorn and placed it in you mouth. You sucked on it and had this look on your face that said, "Hmmm! This is good!"
After maybe half a minute, once all of the butter and salt had been sucked off the bit of popcorn, you spit it out! Patooie! Then you looked at me again with this expression that said, "Can I have some more?"
So I gave you another bit. And after sucking off all of the butter and salt, you spit out the popcorn bit again!
You must have done that for the next 10 minutes until you were all full and didn't want anymore!
Once I started eating the popcorn, you sniffed the air and looked at me with this facial expression that said, "Can I have some, too?"
Because you didn't have any teeth yet, I was worried that you might choke on it, so I broke off a bit of the popcorn and placed it in you mouth. You sucked on it and had this look on your face that said, "Hmmm! This is good!"
After maybe half a minute, once all of the butter and salt had been sucked off the bit of popcorn, you spit it out! Patooie! Then you looked at me again with this expression that said, "Can I have some more?"
So I gave you another bit. And after sucking off all of the butter and salt, you spit out the popcorn bit again!
You must have done that for the next 10 minutes until you were all full and didn't want anymore!
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Your sand toys through the years
As I promote my new book, which contains a poem set at Ventura Pier, I began to think of all of our great visits to that beach and the sand toys you had. You're always in my thoughts, it seems, no matter what I'm doing.Your first sand toys weren't meant for the beach at all but for the big sand pits at the local playgrounds. The Santa Clarita park near where we lived when you were a year old had a great sand pit to play in around a huge castle-like play equipment. most of the other other parks had good sand pits, too, though of varying quality.
We mostly took our sand toys to the beach, though - lots of shovels, buckets, and a few plastic trucks that we could build roads for. There also was this great colorful toy that you could dump sand into and it would go through a funnel turning a wheel below it.
The picture on this page shows you in March 2012 at Ventura city beach with the Ventura Pier in the background. These were the last sand toys I purchased for you. I had forgot to bring our sand toys because I'd been moving stuff to our new condo, so we stopped at Target and picked up these!
Saturday, September 1, 2012
Remember our R2 Trouble game?
Probably your favorite game to play as a preschooler was R2 Trouble. It had an R2D2 in the popmatic center where the dice was, and if R2 was standing after you popped it, you got to go again. The pieces also had little stickers of Clone Wars characters on them.
Because of your age, I had to simplify the rules for Trouble. For example, you didn't have to roll a six to go to start; you could go anytime you wanted.
The big problem we had with the game was that you didn't like when I landed on one of your pieces, sending you back to start over. So I made a rule that so long as we agreed not to send each other back to start, we couldn't move our piece on top of the other's. Sometimes, though, you couldn't resist sending one of my pieces home, and though I had ask to reconsider because that meant I could then do the same to you, you'd still send me back to start. Boy did you ever get mad, though, when I then did the same to you!
Because of the rules, the game really just became a race to see who could roll the highest numbers to get our pieces home first. Despite that, the game was a good way to teach you how to count, about the same rules of game playing, and learning how to deal deal with losing and adversity.
Later, as you learned how to use a scissors, you'd cut up pictures of Clone Wars action figures and tape them to the pieces so that we'd have new sets of characters to play with!
Because of your age, I had to simplify the rules for Trouble. For example, you didn't have to roll a six to go to start; you could go anytime you wanted.The big problem we had with the game was that you didn't like when I landed on one of your pieces, sending you back to start over. So I made a rule that so long as we agreed not to send each other back to start, we couldn't move our piece on top of the other's. Sometimes, though, you couldn't resist sending one of my pieces home, and though I had ask to reconsider because that meant I could then do the same to you, you'd still send me back to start. Boy did you ever get mad, though, when I then did the same to you!
Because of the rules, the game really just became a race to see who could roll the highest numbers to get our pieces home first. Despite that, the game was a good way to teach you how to count, about the same rules of game playing, and learning how to deal deal with losing and adversity.
Later, as you learned how to use a scissors, you'd cut up pictures of Clone Wars action figures and tape them to the pieces so that we'd have new sets of characters to play with!
Friday, August 31, 2012
Jobs your dad has held
While sprucing up some of my websites about my background (important to do because it's information that people interested in hiring me as an editor often look at), I thought you might like to know what kind of jobs I've held. You can check out my resume online at anytime, but that just really lists the places I've worked.
Growing up, I worked on my parents' dairy farm. I milked cows and generally took care of the animals. I didn't do much field work; my dad and brother (your Uncle Chris) typically preferred to do that while my mom and me liked the animals.
In my junior year of high school, I joined the Army National Guard, which I stayed in until 1997. I served in an infantry unit, where I handled a number of different weapons from grenade launchers to machine guns. I rose to the rank of sergeant.
In college, I studied to be a journalist and a teacher (grads 7-12). Upon graduation, I worked as a reporter for a daily newspaper. After three years, though, I made a career change and went into teaching. I taught English and journalism, primarily the former, to grades 7-12, but mainly to eighth and ninth graders.
After seven years of teaching, I went back into journalism, working as a copy desk chief (we proofread and design the newspaper), as a editorial page editor (writing the newspaper's editorials), and as a managing editor (I headed both a weekly and a small daily newspaper). I also was the manging editor of a suite of business magazines in San Diego for a while.
After newspapering, I started my own business, which is what I do now: editing and proofreadingother people's books and helping them get publish. I also research and write my own books (mainly about hiking and writing), but I've also penned a book of poetry and a novel (both of which are coming out this autumn at the time I write this entry).
Do you like to write? What kind of job do you want to have when you grow up?
Growing up, I worked on my parents' dairy farm. I milked cows and generally took care of the animals. I didn't do much field work; my dad and brother (your Uncle Chris) typically preferred to do that while my mom and me liked the animals.
In my junior year of high school, I joined the Army National Guard, which I stayed in until 1997. I served in an infantry unit, where I handled a number of different weapons from grenade launchers to machine guns. I rose to the rank of sergeant.
In college, I studied to be a journalist and a teacher (grads 7-12). Upon graduation, I worked as a reporter for a daily newspaper. After three years, though, I made a career change and went into teaching. I taught English and journalism, primarily the former, to grades 7-12, but mainly to eighth and ninth graders.
After seven years of teaching, I went back into journalism, working as a copy desk chief (we proofread and design the newspaper), as a editorial page editor (writing the newspaper's editorials), and as a managing editor (I headed both a weekly and a small daily newspaper). I also was the manging editor of a suite of business magazines in San Diego for a while.
After newspapering, I started my own business, which is what I do now: editing and proofreadingother people's books and helping them get publish. I also research and write my own books (mainly about hiking and writing), but I've also penned a book of poetry and a novel (both of which are coming out this autumn at the time I write this entry).
Do you like to write? What kind of job do you want to have when you grow up?
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Journal entry from Nov. 10, 2009
A few days ago I wrote an entry about you taking a bath - well, I found this old journal entry from Nov. 10, 2009, in my journals (the actual event happened a few days earlier):
As the water fell from the faucet swirling into the pool below, you placed bath toys onto the tub's side, delicately examining each one as if it were some priceless ancient artifact. There is a monkey in a life raft, a rubber train engine, a plastic sailboat. Bubble bath clings to the monkey's face, and your eyes pause on it for a long moment, and a finger wipes off the foam. Your eyes suddenly brighten as you grin. You dip your hand into the foam-covered water and swooping up a mound of bubbles, pat them against your chin. Two fingers push some of the bubbles up around the mouth until you have a goatee of your own, white and fizzing. You gaze at your reflection in the bathtub faucet, let out a gleeful laugh, and continue to place the toys upon the rub's rim, the bubbles upon your face fizzing.
As the water fell from the faucet swirling into the pool below, you placed bath toys onto the tub's side, delicately examining each one as if it were some priceless ancient artifact. There is a monkey in a life raft, a rubber train engine, a plastic sailboat. Bubble bath clings to the monkey's face, and your eyes pause on it for a long moment, and a finger wipes off the foam. Your eyes suddenly brighten as you grin. You dip your hand into the foam-covered water and swooping up a mound of bubbles, pat them against your chin. Two fingers push some of the bubbles up around the mouth until you have a goatee of your own, white and fizzing. You gaze at your reflection in the bathtub faucet, let out a gleeful laugh, and continue to place the toys upon the rub's rim, the bubbles upon your face fizzing.
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
Journal entry about you hearing the wind
Here's another journal entry I wrote on Oct. 31, 2009, about you; the events described occurred a few days earlier, on Oct. 19 or 20:
The wind blew fiercely, so much that it drew your attention just when I hoped to put you down for an afternoon nap. For several minutes, you stared into the empty space between my lap and the ceiling, then you sat up, tucked yourself against my side, listened to the chimney flue rattle and the backyard gate jangle. On occasion, the gusts even pressed the picture window in with a whump! But you heard more than this, I suspect, for your ear lay against my heart, it going lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub with each rise and fall of my chest, and soon you fell asleep.
The wind blew fiercely, so much that it drew your attention just when I hoped to put you down for an afternoon nap. For several minutes, you stared into the empty space between my lap and the ceiling, then you sat up, tucked yourself against my side, listened to the chimney flue rattle and the backyard gate jangle. On occasion, the gusts even pressed the picture window in with a whump! But you heard more than this, I suspect, for your ear lay against my heart, it going lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub with each rise and fall of my chest, and soon you fell asleep.
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