Arrow can do it, Tiger waters it, Leandra walks to it, Azelle fits in it
26-09-18 10:48 Grandchildren
After flirting with us for several weeks, autumn finally arrived (in the Astronomical sense). Here, however, the rainy season hasn’t started, the dry season (now measured in decades) continues. But, in keeping with the mandates of seasonal change, the (barely) green hillsides changed to dirty brown dust piles. But..
“The sky and the ocean are still blue and pretty,” Nazy claimed - making the best of the situation.
“This, my dear, will never do,” I replied. “We’re going to see a real autumn. We’re going to New England.”
“We’re not going to Boston to see leaves, We’re going for a wedding, Dan.”
“Same thing.”
On Thursday, coincidentally my birthday, Nazy and I will fly east to attend my nephew’s wedding in Salem, Mass.
As I noted in last week’s letter, young Arrow received his first (ever) haircut. After perusing the photo (at right), several alert viewers questioned the veracity of my exclamation. Naturally, I was ..
“Outraged,” I thought. “It’s not like I’m Donald Trump.”
“… misinterpreted,” I said. “Instead of ‘hair cut’, I should have said: ‘hair trim’.”
In any case, his hair is, if not short, then at least significantly shorter.
He’s also becoming more verbal and assertive. And more ‘two’.. too. After I picked him up from pre-school, we were walking to the car. I started to lift him into the car seat..
“I can do it.” Arrow claimed.
“Okay,” I said. “Shall I just hold your hand?”
“I can do it.” Arrow repeated.
“Okay.” I replied, hovering.
“Step back.” Arrow commanded.
“Step back?” I thought. “Did Arrow just tell me to step back?”
“I can do it.” Arrow reiterated — as he pushed me back.
As Arrow asserts his ‘Two-ness’, (the amazing) Azelle, now one month old, continues to ‘crush infant-dom’. She’s learned to smile…
“… or maybe it’s just gas,” I thought, recalling nebulous and gaseous grins that I had observed in corporate management.
She is alert, pays attention (a trait that, unless she can disguise it, disqualifies her for a political leadership role).
In between visits with the grandchildren, I received a couple of ominous pieces of paper mail. The first was from the IRS. I let it simmer for day, skirting the room where it was waiting to ponce. Late that evening, as eerie darkness settled it, I lit a candle, murmured some incantations and opened the envelope. The first thing that I saw was reassuring:
Water now joins internet service and healthcare as one of the few things more expensive here than in Switzerland. Here, Internet access is a monopoly. In healthcare, there is no connection whatsoever between the cost of a service and its price. Not only are they unable to tell how much anything costs, they don’t care. Water prices are more understandable: Santa Barbara is in the midst of a decade-long drought. Our new house has a host of arid-friendly succulent plants, no lawn, a “parsimonious drip irrigation system” and a location close to the ocean (i.e. frequent ‘marine layer’ condensation), But, we’ve discovered, when water is scare, there is little difference between ‘parsimonious’ and ‘profligate’ when it comes to irrigation systems.
“At least I don’t have a field of alfalfa or orchards of almonds,” I thought.
Water shortages are certainly not a problem in Bellingham, Washington, home of Darius, Christiane and (the lovely) Leandra. As a one year old, Leandra, bored by crawling, is walking — and talking. She says “Hi” and “Mana” and “Dada” and a lot of other things that are most easily understood by her parents. I took Tiger and Arrow to the park (separately) after school this week. Tiger is very well known. While I was playing with Arrow I heard..
“… and that’s Tiger’s grandpa. He’s playing with Tiger’s brother.”
When I took Tiger, several children found him. Tiger enjoyed the swing, the slide and the rings. (Luckily, they don’t have monkey bars; we’ve had bad luck with monkey bars. Darius broke his arm at school in Vancouver on monkey bars and I’ve been afraid of them ever since.
“You’ve been afraid of them?” Nazy asked.
“He’s my son, Nazy.”
“You weren’t even there. You were in Houston.”
“Don’t dredge up painful memories,” I replied — thinking that Houston’s languid bayous and savage fire ants didn’t compare with Vancouver’s majestic mountains and splendid ocean bay.
After the playground, Tiger and I decided to walk to the nearby park..
“It’s not a park, Dan.” Tiger asserted.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s a garden, Dan.“
“Technically,” I thought, “he’s right. It is the Alice Keck Park Memorial Garden.”
“How do you know that it’s a garden?” I asked.
“I found some speakers. They said it was a garden.”
“Speakers?” I thought — until Tiger pointed out the button-activated speakers on the walking path.
“Now let’s go to the sundial. I want to know what time it is.” Tiger claimed.
“I don’t think you know how to find the sundial,” I replied. “And I have a watch.”
“I do know where it is. I showed Magda.”
“Ah,” I replied. “But since the sun slipped behind a cloud, the sundial won’t work.” I thought.
“Will the sundial work if the sun is not out?” Tiger asked, reading my thoughts.
“The sky and the ocean are still blue and pretty,” Nazy claimed - making the best of the situation.
“This, my dear, will never do,” I replied. “We’re going to see a real autumn. We’re going to New England.”
“We’re not going to Boston to see leaves, We’re going for a wedding, Dan.”
“Same thing.”
On Thursday, coincidentally my birthday, Nazy and I will fly east to attend my nephew’s wedding in Salem, Mass.
As I noted in last week’s letter, young Arrow received his first (ever) haircut. After perusing the photo (at right), several alert viewers questioned the veracity of my exclamation. Naturally, I was ..
“Outraged,” I thought. “It’s not like I’m Donald Trump.”
“… misinterpreted,” I said. “Instead of ‘hair cut’, I should have said: ‘hair trim’.”
In any case, his hair is, if not short, then at least significantly shorter.
He’s also becoming more verbal and assertive. And more ‘two’.. too. After I picked him up from pre-school, we were walking to the car. I started to lift him into the car seat..
“I can do it.” Arrow claimed.
“Okay,” I said. “Shall I just hold your hand?”
“I can do it.” Arrow repeated.
“Okay.” I replied, hovering.
“Step back.” Arrow commanded.
“Step back?” I thought. “Did Arrow just tell me to step back?”
“I can do it.” Arrow reiterated — as he pushed me back.
As Arrow asserts his ‘Two-ness’, (the amazing) Azelle, now one month old, continues to ‘crush infant-dom’. She’s learned to smile…
“… or maybe it’s just gas,” I thought, recalling nebulous and gaseous grins that I had observed in corporate management.
She is alert, pays attention (a trait that, unless she can disguise it, disqualifies her for a political leadership role).
In between visits with the grandchildren, I received a couple of ominous pieces of paper mail. The first was from the IRS. I let it simmer for day, skirting the room where it was waiting to ponce. Late that evening, as eerie darkness settled it, I lit a candle, murmured some incantations and opened the envelope. The first thing that I saw was reassuring:
THIS IS NOT A BILL
My concerns had been misplaced. The IRS sent me a letter to tell me that I did not owe them anything from my 2016 income taxes. Giddy, I opened the water bill from the city of Santa Barbara..
I gasped as I sunk into a nearby chair. “$224! For one month?” I thought, aware that this bill was about five times higher than that of our previous house.
Water now joins internet service and healthcare as one of the few things more expensive here than in Switzerland. Here, Internet access is a monopoly. In healthcare, there is no connection whatsoever between the cost of a service and its price. Not only are they unable to tell how much anything costs, they don’t care. Water prices are more understandable: Santa Barbara is in the midst of a decade-long drought. Our new house has a host of arid-friendly succulent plants, no lawn, a “parsimonious drip irrigation system” and a location close to the ocean (i.e. frequent ‘marine layer’ condensation), But, we’ve discovered, when water is scare, there is little difference between ‘parsimonious’ and ‘profligate’ when it comes to irrigation systems.
“At least I don’t have a field of alfalfa or orchards of almonds,” I thought.
Water shortages are certainly not a problem in Bellingham, Washington, home of Darius, Christiane and (the lovely) Leandra. As a one year old, Leandra, bored by crawling, is walking — and talking. She says “Hi” and “Mana” and “Dada” and a lot of other things that are most easily understood by her parents. I took Tiger and Arrow to the park (separately) after school this week. Tiger is very well known. While I was playing with Arrow I heard..
“… and that’s Tiger’s grandpa. He’s playing with Tiger’s brother.”
When I took Tiger, several children found him. Tiger enjoyed the swing, the slide and the rings. (Luckily, they don’t have monkey bars; we’ve had bad luck with monkey bars. Darius broke his arm at school in Vancouver on monkey bars and I’ve been afraid of them ever since.
“You’ve been afraid of them?” Nazy asked.
“He’s my son, Nazy.”
“You weren’t even there. You were in Houston.”
“Don’t dredge up painful memories,” I replied — thinking that Houston’s languid bayous and savage fire ants didn’t compare with Vancouver’s majestic mountains and splendid ocean bay.
After the playground, Tiger and I decided to walk to the nearby park..
“It’s not a park, Dan.” Tiger asserted.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It’s a garden, Dan.“
“Technically,” I thought, “he’s right. It is the Alice Keck Park Memorial Garden.”
“How do you know that it’s a garden?” I asked.
“I found some speakers. They said it was a garden.”
“Speakers?” I thought — until Tiger pointed out the button-activated speakers on the walking path.
“Now let’s go to the sundial. I want to know what time it is.” Tiger claimed.
“I don’t think you know how to find the sundial,” I replied. “And I have a watch.”
“I do know where it is. I showed Magda.”
“Ah,” I replied. “But since the sun slipped behind a cloud, the sundial won’t work.” I thought.
“Will the sundial work if the sun is not out?” Tiger asked, reading my thoughts.
For last week's letter, please click here.
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