trackless tunnels and pygmy mammoths sing to museum fish
20-02-19 09:26 Family,Grandchildren
Last week’s weather was surprisingly rainy. In a break with a decade-long tradition, Santa Barbara experienced rain in the rainy season. Naturally, my sister was visiting:
“You said it didn’t rain,” Marjorie observed. “Can I borrow your umbrella?”
“Umbrella?” I asked. “Nazy,” I shouted. “Do we have an umbrella?”
“Yes, Dan,” Nazy replied. “I bought one at the Beatles Show in Las Vegas. We’ve never used it.”
“Do you know where it is?” I asked.
“Of course!” Nazy replied. “Maybe,” Nazy thought.
We did have a couple of nice days while Marjorie was here. In fact..
“It mostly rained in the morning when I was taking my normal walk,” Marjorie pointed out.
This week, Nazy and I took Arrow and Tiger to the Natural History Museum. Colorful (florescent) rocks — illuminated by a black light that had a very fun-to-press button — were the biggest hit. However, there was also a display of a pygmy mammoth skeleton and a depiction of the ‘dig’ where it was found. The latter display was surrounded by a rope that was threaded through a hole in a post. [I didn’t take a picture, but the image to the right should give you an idea of what Arrow was seeing.] Arrow was intrigued.
“Look, Dan! A tunnel. It’s a tunnel.”
“A tunnel?” I replied.
“For Choo-Choo trains. Choo-Choo trains go in the tunnel.”
“You’re right Arrow.”
“But…” Arrow was clearly dismayed. “Where did the track go, Dan?” He asked.
Arrow is building much more complex sentences and thoughts. He just needs to master the phonics associated with “Y”, “L” and “S”.
And I just need to figure out a way to avoid the wrong line at Vons, the local grocery store. Since it is within walking distance, I’m often dispatched to the store for a single item. (My FitBit amplifies the signal with buzzing reminders to ‘meet my goal’. In my last three trips to Vons, I approached the checkout counter with a single item. I ended up:
“I just want a half gallon of milk,” I muttered. “Why does God hate me?” I thought.
As we prepare for our Australia trip, my aquarium is finally in eco-friendly equilibrium. However, since we’ll be gone for three weeks, I’ve realized that…
“… these fish need to be fed twice a day, Nazy.” I commented. “We’ll need to get an automatic feeder.”
Believe it or not, there are scores of competing tropical fish automatic (flake food) feeding devices. Following the recommendation of a professional aquarium maintenance engineer, we bought a ‘quality’ feeder that could be programmed to dispense flakes up to four times a day.
“ … and it only has four buttons,” I thought as I filed my nails, got out a magnifying glass and prepared to read the instructions conveniently printing in a six point font in green on a red background. Naturally, I couldn’t get anything to work. I recruited Nazy and Marjorie. They got the device set up for a 5:15PM feeding cycle.
“So,” I concluded, “after passing out the champagne, setting the morning cycle should be simple.”
It wasn’t. The ‘2’ and the arrow indicating feeding refused to show up in the program window. But, after a few glasses of wine and a couple of useful expletives, it was programmed. The next morning, excited, I stationed myself in front of the tank — waiting for the 9:15AM feeding cycle. 9:15 came and went. Nothing happened. I took a careful look at the device — it was empty. Some time during the night, it had gone berserk. A three month supply of food had been dispense. I cleaned that tank and moved to plan B:
“What are we going to do, Nazy?” I wailed.
I continued to ponder while taking Tiger to his weekly singing class. When he started the class, he was very shy (an anomalous characteristic for a member of The Adams Family). Genes, however, were activated. He’s working on his solo.
Tiger has been very active of late:
He takes care (sometimes over zealously) of his young sister Azelle. And he mimics his Mom — putting on his ‘make-up’ with magic markers.
We’ve enjoyed the boys visits to our home. However, because of the rain, they’ve spent a lot of time inside the house. There are little cars strewn all over the house. Both Arrow and Tiger like to ‘park’ the cars along every wall. They also like..
“… the alphabet train!” Tiger exclaims. (Arrow calls it the ABC train.)
Arrow sits on the back of the train and Tiger pulls him around the house. The train ‘sings’ the ABC song.
“I am really sick of that song.” I thought hearing it for the 3286th time.
Last evening, the boys parked the Alphabet Train next to the WiFi amplifier in the downstairs hall. Later that night..
“Later, Dan?” Nazy interrupts. “It was the middle of the night.”
“It was 3:30AM,” I thought. “Yes dear.” I said.
The alphabet train, which is supposed to respond to physical movements and button pushing only, was awoken by a particularly intensive WiFi signal..
“That’s impossible!” Nazy interrupts.
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” I replied. “It could have been an earthquake that didn’t feel.” I thought.
… the train started singing: A, B, C D, E, F, G … W, X and Y and Z. Won’t you ride the train with me.”
I thought (briefly) of springing out of bed. Instead, I turned over to bury my good ear in the fluffy pillow. I decided to look for the ‘OFF’ switch the next morning.
And, finally, for non-local readers who may be wondering:
There is no emergency — about The (stupid) Wall. An explanation: the administration uses the world ‘illegal’ to describe any action they dislike and the word ‘fake’ to refer to any fact that they dislike.
Fortunately, the youngest grandchild is happy and healthy.
“You said it didn’t rain,” Marjorie observed. “Can I borrow your umbrella?”
“Umbrella?” I asked. “Nazy,” I shouted. “Do we have an umbrella?”
“Yes, Dan,” Nazy replied. “I bought one at the Beatles Show in Las Vegas. We’ve never used it.”
“Do you know where it is?” I asked.
“Of course!” Nazy replied. “Maybe,” Nazy thought.
We did have a couple of nice days while Marjorie was here. In fact..
“It mostly rained in the morning when I was taking my normal walk,” Marjorie pointed out.
This week, Nazy and I took Arrow and Tiger to the Natural History Museum. Colorful (florescent) rocks — illuminated by a black light that had a very fun-to-press button — were the biggest hit. However, there was also a display of a pygmy mammoth skeleton and a depiction of the ‘dig’ where it was found. The latter display was surrounded by a rope that was threaded through a hole in a post. [I didn’t take a picture, but the image to the right should give you an idea of what Arrow was seeing.] Arrow was intrigued.
“Look, Dan! A tunnel. It’s a tunnel.”
“A tunnel?” I replied.
“For Choo-Choo trains. Choo-Choo trains go in the tunnel.”
“You’re right Arrow.”
“But…” Arrow was clearly dismayed. “Where did the track go, Dan?” He asked.
Arrow is building much more complex sentences and thoughts. He just needs to master the phonics associated with “Y”, “L” and “S”.
And I just need to figure out a way to avoid the wrong line at Vons, the local grocery store. Since it is within walking distance, I’m often dispatched to the store for a single item. (My FitBit amplifies the signal with buzzing reminders to ‘meet my goal’. In my last three trips to Vons, I approached the checkout counter with a single item. I ended up:
- Behind three people — all of whom paid for less than five items with a check. Moreover, none of those people knew the date. One had forgotten his identification and another had a nervous condition that made it almost impossible for him to hold onto a pen.
- Behind two teenage girls who bought 14 different kinds of chocolate and then paid with coins pulled from pockets and purses. When it became clear that they were 14 cents short (I offered them a dime and a nickel), they tried to find the ‘best’ chocolate to put back.
- Behind a little old lady who was buying items for her friends. Each item had to be checked separately. She packaged the change separately and she wrote (slowly) on each receipt.
“I just want a half gallon of milk,” I muttered. “Why does God hate me?” I thought.
As we prepare for our Australia trip, my aquarium is finally in eco-friendly equilibrium. However, since we’ll be gone for three weeks, I’ve realized that…
“… these fish need to be fed twice a day, Nazy.” I commented. “We’ll need to get an automatic feeder.”
Believe it or not, there are scores of competing tropical fish automatic (flake food) feeding devices. Following the recommendation of a professional aquarium maintenance engineer, we bought a ‘quality’ feeder that could be programmed to dispense flakes up to four times a day.
“ … and it only has four buttons,” I thought as I filed my nails, got out a magnifying glass and prepared to read the instructions conveniently printing in a six point font in green on a red background. Naturally, I couldn’t get anything to work. I recruited Nazy and Marjorie. They got the device set up for a 5:15PM feeding cycle.
“So,” I concluded, “after passing out the champagne, setting the morning cycle should be simple.”
It wasn’t. The ‘2’ and the arrow indicating feeding refused to show up in the program window. But, after a few glasses of wine and a couple of useful expletives, it was programmed. The next morning, excited, I stationed myself in front of the tank — waiting for the 9:15AM feeding cycle. 9:15 came and went. Nothing happened. I took a careful look at the device — it was empty. Some time during the night, it had gone berserk. A three month supply of food had been dispense. I cleaned that tank and moved to plan B:
“What are we going to do, Nazy?” I wailed.
I continued to ponder while taking Tiger to his weekly singing class. When he started the class, he was very shy (an anomalous characteristic for a member of The Adams Family). Genes, however, were activated. He’s working on his solo.
Tiger has been very active of late:
He takes care (sometimes over zealously) of his young sister Azelle. And he mimics his Mom — putting on his ‘make-up’ with magic markers.
We’ve enjoyed the boys visits to our home. However, because of the rain, they’ve spent a lot of time inside the house. There are little cars strewn all over the house. Both Arrow and Tiger like to ‘park’ the cars along every wall. They also like..
“… the alphabet train!” Tiger exclaims. (Arrow calls it the ABC train.)
Arrow sits on the back of the train and Tiger pulls him around the house. The train ‘sings’ the ABC song.
“I am really sick of that song.” I thought hearing it for the 3286th time.
Last evening, the boys parked the Alphabet Train next to the WiFi amplifier in the downstairs hall. Later that night..
“Later, Dan?” Nazy interrupts. “It was the middle of the night.”
“It was 3:30AM,” I thought. “Yes dear.” I said.
The alphabet train, which is supposed to respond to physical movements and button pushing only, was awoken by a particularly intensive WiFi signal..
“That’s impossible!” Nazy interrupts.
“That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.” I replied. “It could have been an earthquake that didn’t feel.” I thought.
… the train started singing: A, B, C D, E, F, G … W, X and Y and Z. Won’t you ride the train with me.”
I thought (briefly) of springing out of bed. Instead, I turned over to bury my good ear in the fluffy pillow. I decided to look for the ‘OFF’ switch the next morning.
And, finally, for non-local readers who may be wondering:
There is no emergency — about The (stupid) Wall. An explanation: the administration uses the world ‘illegal’ to describe any action they dislike and the word ‘fake’ to refer to any fact that they dislike.
Fortunately, the youngest grandchild is happy and healthy.
For last week's letter, please click here.
(The Amazing) Azelle
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