Navigon, "Take Me Home"

Friday, June 21, 2013

Riverside Camping? No Thank You.

A couple of weeks ago, Eric brightly said, "Let's go on an overnight canoe trip with Kirk and Gene's families."

You know what I heard? "Let's drive 8 hours and pee in the woods."

But, because I am crazy in Love with Eric, I just didn't say anything, hoping I could get my brain on board once I processed the idea. Okay, I like canoeing. I like camping. I love Kirk and Gene and their families. I can do this.

A few days later he mentioned it again. Again, I just said nothing. Get on board. I can do this.

A few days later he mentioned it again (nobody plans like Eric, and this had been stewing around in his brain in a big, fun party.) Finally I told him about the "8 hours, then pee in the woods." He laughed that it was just one night. He promised he would provide bathroom accomodations the other days of the trip. Now I am starting to sound like one of those commercials where I need to see my doctor about my "need to go." I don't even have a prostate, but maybe I should ask about that too. Normally, in my day-to-day, this is not an issue.

But here's the thing. I sleep like the Princess and the Pea. So I won't sleep well in the tent. Fine. Not a big deal. I have a lot of sleepless nights anyway. But ... when I lie awake, everything goes into alert mode. I can hear everything, I am hyper aware. You may think that means I am afraid of the sounds in the woods. But that doesn't scare me (you know that I am only scared of horror movie children. Unless one of those rambling racoons whispers "Mama" outside my tent, it's all cool my babies.)

(Now I have a feeling that, if we do camp, Gene will sneak up to the tent and whisper "Mama." You will be sorry, Friend.)

Back to my point. My bladder also goes into high alert. With nothing else to think about, my sleepless bladder reacts like I drank a gallon of water before bed.

So, here's how I see this playing out,

-2am, campsite, I have to pee. I would be camping with 3 super-hero men whose first reaction is to protect their families. Sure, men pee projection-style away from themselves. But, for us girls, it is a production. Now I go rustling around into the scrubby pine forest, possibly sounding like a camp-intuder.

The BEST case scenario is that one of them knocks me out Before said production starts. Because I can recover from a blow to the back of the head if I wake up still pulled-together. I cannot recover being knocked out mid-production. Family get-togethers would get pretty awkward if I could never look them in the eyes again. If I get knocked out that way, the best thing for all involved is to leave me to awaken alone, and I will pull myself together and pretend it was just a wild hog who whacked me across the back of my head. (I already can't look wild hogs in the eyes, so nothing lost in that relationship.) Okay?

Of better yet, we canoe, then camp at a campground with a nice, clean, bathroom just waiting for sleepless me.

Thursday, August 16, 2012

Cookie Vision

I haven't written anything since we left Germany. Just haven't felt like writing, I guess. But funny little things happen every day, I still have Germany stories I haven't told, and we've been here in Tampa for a year!

Plus, I don't sleep. So, it's read Kardashian news (which I am not interested in during normal hours, but, bored at 2am, suddenly you think things like, "Who did wear it better?!") or write some of these things down.

So, here's a start ...

I have a condition I call "cookie vision." It is the inability to think once you've thought about a sweet. I don't actually eat a lot of cookies, but once I want one, my main goal becomes that cookie.

One day Emily and I were at the mall. We had a task, maybe new shoes or something, so we were walking with purpose. As we passed Old Navy, I saw a card table set up with a Chick-Fil-A employee giving out samples of their new chocolate-chip cookie bars. I tell Emily, "On the way back, I am trying that cookie."

Later, in that same mall ...

Errand completed, we pass Chick-Fil-A. Whew ... cookie girl is still there. I cross over to the table, stepping in front of 2 kids who seem to be posing for a photo. In the door of Old Navy? Camera nerds. (normally I am the person who will hold foot-traffic up for you if you are taking a photo in public. I will also offer to take it for you, so you can all be in the photo. I am the official complete-stranger photographer of international vacationers everywhere. I can count to 3 in several languages and compose the shot to get your best side and the Eiffel Tower ... But I strode right past the kids, because the Eiffel Tower is still gonna be there, but those cookie samples may run out at any moment. Everyone here looking for cargo shorts and reasonabley-priced T-shirts is my competition for the potentially-last cookie.)

So I get my cookie, step into the store, take a bite ... then I notice the Chick-Fil-A mascot cow. "Hey Emily, look, there's the cow costume."

Then she pointed out to me that the cow was there the first time we walked by - standing right by the cookie table. And those kids getting their picture taken were posing with the cow. I had seen none of this. I had not seen a 6-ft-tall cow standing next to a 2-inch cookie sample. That, my friend, is Cookie Vision with a Capital COOKIE.

Cut to another day. Universal Studios Orlando. Harry Potter world. I am peckish for something sweet. Now, I have never read Harry Potter, but apparently there are no sweet shops in his village. Sure there's some kind of candy store, and the sales guy has tried to sell me on some Jelly Bellys that taste like weird stuff. But, I don't want candy. I want something cake-y. What kind of world is this? The first thing I'd do, if one of these weird kids wearing a striped scarf in 95-degree heat would give me a wand, is conjure up a chocolate-filled croissant. And, for the love of all things sacred, where is the water bottle cart?! I'm not drinking that butterscotch-flavored fizz. I had a sip of Vance's "Butter beer," and thought I'd never stop tasting it. It's like tastebud kudzu.

Anyway, so thirst and a sudden pastry need are making me dizzy. I spot the churro cart (probably no churros in Harry Potter, but there's the guy, and he's also got water and gloriously fresh, glistening fruit.). Emily and I head over while Eric takes Vance in to buy foul jelly beans (which are still in our cupboard 2 months later). At the cart there is a line. So Emily says she's going to stand over there in the shade while I wait. Good idea.

Until 7 minutes later when I walk away, churro, water and grapes in hand, like she doesn't exist. Then I take a bite of the churro, and suddenly the clouds of my brain are lifted. Emily! I turn turn around suddenly and see she is walking towards me like, "Hey, you're gonna just leave me there?" Like I love the churro more than my sweet, patient Emily. There's no competition. (After all, the churro was kind of stale. Now if this were EPCOT where the do sell chocolate croissants ...)

Okay ... 3am ... one story told. Off to bed. Love you all. - Val

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

Over-thinking

I am an over-thinker. It can paralyze my decision-making (and, in fact, I usually believe that any decision I make will end up being the wrong one). So, settling down here, buying a house, is overwhelming. I can live anywhere for 2 or 3 years, in any house. It's how we've lived. Bad neighbors? We'll be gone in 2 years. Lousy storage space? Next house will be better.

Now here we are, ready to settle down, buy a house long-term. We're in a city (Tampa) that is a commuter city. Everyone lives 45 minutes out in the big, beautiful suburb houses. In fact, we rolled into town and went to the community we thought we wanted to live in on day one. Fishhawk was beautiful on paper. Resort-style living, great schools ... reality is it's a long commute to this "resort" sitting in the boonies. And I remembered ... I hate commuter living. I don't want Eric spending 2 hours of his day in traffic. When we lived in DC we took a townhouse on the edge in a beautiful neighborhood of trees and parks and immigrants, when everyone told us about their 3000 sq foot houses an hour out. I had less house to clean and a family for 2 extra hours a day, and we walked literally over a river and through the woods to Emily's kindergarten.

So, we want to live on the peninsula where McDill is located. Pricey. And weirdly there are small 50s cinderblock houses next to McMansions crammed onto a lot that used to house a 1200 sq ft house. But we are looking at a 1925 Spanish revival that we could eventually turn into a dream house, and that sounds perfect to me.

So, the real issue driving my housing angst isn't money. It's school zones. And we need to make a decision on location immediately to get the kids in school starting in a few weeks. In good schools. In great schools. The best house in the world is no good if it's not near a great school. Here on the peninsula there are 2 high schools, both good. School 1 is rated a 10. It looks like a college campus. Sounds perfect. But maybe it's rated a 10 because it "teaches to the test" well. And maybe it's too homogeneous (the area skews boringly high socio-economically. Are the students a bunch of Abercrombie Stepford teens?). I really want a well-rounded academic and social experience for the kids. Both things are super-important to me. School 2 is still an 8 school. It looks old. but it has an IB program. Kids from all over the area come here to magnet that IB program. Emily is a natural for it. But is it too much? I mean, does she need that academic pressure? Honors AP in every subject? Regular old AP isn't enough? Does she need to graduate with an 8.0 GPA (weighted for Honors - that's a real thing)? Will she have time to relax at all? (Honestly this worries me much more than her. In 3rd grade she was put in an advanced 4th grade math class. But it met at the end of the day, meaning she missed every party her regular class had - Valentines parties, Christmas parties, birthday parties ... I wanted to take her out. Third graders don't need advanced classes. They need cupcakes and movie days. But she wanted to stay. And she's been a level above in math ever since.)

So, buy a fixer-upper house at the very top of our price range 5-10 minutes from Eric's job (and very close to a beautiful bay) and in the 8 school zone (where Emily can start IB and then drop out of it if she wants) and then go visit Busch Gardens, right? The kids deserve a real roller coaster ride instead of Mom's emotional one.

Thank you for listening. Love - Val

Saturday, May 28, 2011

Stephen Hawking is Right

I've been thinking a lot lately about Stephen Hawking's comment that Heaven is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark. I, for one, am not afraid of the dark. But I think that he is right about something. I think that he is right about what comes next for Stephen Hawking.

I don't believe there is a "Hell" of lakes of fire any more than I believe "Heaven" is paved with streets of gold (sounds a little Vegas-y to me. Donald Trump is not the developer.) But I believe you can choose to separate yourself from God. God is Love. You can choose to separate yourself from that Love. That's Freewill, baby. That's not God's choice for you. That's your choice all the way.

So, what do you get when you make that choice? - a "place" (for lack of a better word) that is without God. Nothingness could be a very accurate description. You can choose nothingness. It is not my choice, but it is Stephen Hawking's. So I think he will get nothingness. And I will get something, some "place" that is Love and God's presence. So we are both right about what happens next.

Am I not disturbed by his assertions? Sure. I am sad that he has lived his life in the limits of what he can theorectically prove (yes, I know "theoretically" and "prove" go against each other. Talk to Stephen about that.) What a small idea for such a large existence! For one thing, to not know that there are things you cannot predict or control, that there are things that are not limited by our knowledge - how boring a world is that? But also, there is a freedom in knowing that God has your back that can allow you to step way out of your limits and create good, including great science.

So, Stephen has his theories and I have my Faith, and I think we'll both be right.

__________________________________________________________________

"We are just an advanced breed of monkeys on a minor planet of a very average star. But we can understand the universe. That makes us something very special." - Stephen Hawking

Now you might think it's the "advanced breed of monkey" that I have a problem with, but really the thing that stands out to me is that "we can understand the universe." We can understand many, many processes, many links and steps. Science is wonderful, expansive, full of great discovery. But understand the universe?! Or even fully what the universe is? That seems very limited, arrogant, and naive.

So here's another quote from another scientist ... "It has always seemed to me extreme presumpuousness on the part of those who want to make human ability the measure of what nature can and knows how to do, since, when one comes down to it, there is not one effect in nature, no matter how small, that even the most speculative minds can fully understand." - Galilieo Galiliei

So, that's just what I was thinking about today.

Monday, April 18, 2011

Barcelona Architecture

Barcelona is a city of architecture. Buildings housing completely ordinary purposes present extraordinary facades. Buildings that, anywhere else, would be a city highlight, simply have balconies covered with freshly-washed laundry drying in the Spanish sun. Brickwork undulates, beckoning here and coyly drawing back there from the street. Ceramic tile, designed to be broken and reformed into curves and lines and waves becomes more beautiful than it's original perfection. Interiors of apartment buildings are designed to draw in sunlight, making every room lit with life. Government utilities buildings beg to be photographed and marveled. And yet, people go about their day as if they are not in a forest of man-made beauty, hurrying about in their softly-worn shoes to the fish-mongers, to the bakery, to their offices and errands. But to me it was all new and spectacular.

This is the street-side exterior of our apartment building. We rented a 3-bedroom apartment in the Eixample area of the city.

We were on the top floor, which gave us 2 large terraces (we had as much exterior space as interior space), overlooking the Sagrada Familia with the sea beyond, Montjuic to our right, Agbar Tower to our left, and the city in between. (And, yes, that is Emily! I know, 14 already.)

This is the city water utility building. Even in daylight it reflected color with slightly tilted panels. At night it was lit up in blue and red.

One of the most famous bull-fighting rings in Spain, the Monumental. Catalonia (the region of Spain Barcelona is in. They are seeking independence from Spain as they feel their history is unique from that of the rest of Spain. They speak a different language as well - Catalan.) outlawed bullfighting back in the seventies. This beautiful ring has been used as a concert venue and is slated to become a mall in 2012. Another bullfighting ring in the city has already been re-purposed as a mall while keeping it's beautiful architecture.

Casa Batllo, built by Antoni Gaudi for a wealthy middle-class family in 1877. Nothing about this house is ordinary or straightforward. From the stairs, to the windows to laundry and servants areas in the attic, to the rooftop chimney outlets, everything curves and spirals.

Detail from a simple garden wall on a terrace of Casa Batllo.

An interior open column designed to run down the center of the building and bring light to all the rooms. The size of the windows descends as you ascend, and the color of the tilework deepens as it gets closer to the sun.

(We took far too many photos to include them all, but these are just a sample. I'm going to break it up into a few smaller posts and maybe add just a photos post later. Love to all - Val)

Sagrada Familia

If Barcelona is a city of architecture, the Basilica of the Sagrada Familia is its pinnacle. Designed by Antoni Gaudi, the structure became his masterpiece work. It is still being constructed based on his design. He worked on it for 40 years, living there and dedicating himself solely to its construction the last 20, until his death in 1926. At that point the church was only 1/4 complete and still stands only half complete based on his design.

If St Paul's Cathedral in Rome is the definition of reverent, holy, dedicated, then the Sagrada Familia is, by contrast, joyful, exuberant, organic. As a child Gaudi was sick and homebound. His mother would take him on long walks through the country, and his reverence for nature is in every exaltation. Soaring spires are topped with baskets of fruit. Rain spouts are lizards and snails. Columns are anchored on the backs of tortoises. Holy-water fonts are giant seashells. Interior columns soar as tree trunks, with knots leading to branches supporting the roof. Words like "Excelcius" and "Hosanna" are carved into and painted on the towers. And light is everywhere.

As you approach from the Passion Facade side of the building. The cranes and scaffolds are always there. The building has been under construction since 1882, and has a hopeful completion date of 2026.

Closer view of the Passion Facade.

My favorite detail of the temple (illustrating my favorite Bible passage). Above the door of the Passion Facade, detail of the torn curtain above the crucified Christ. In ancient temples, a curtain separated the Holy of Holies (the place where God's earthly presence dwelt) from man's place in the temple, signifying man's separation from God by sin. Only the high priest could pass behind the curtain once a year into God's presence to atone for Israel's sins. The curtain is described as being several inches thick, and in Solomon's temple, about 60 feet high, too heavy for teams of horses to pull apart. But with Jesus' last breath, "And Jesus cried out again with a loud voice and yielded his spirit. And behold, the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. And the earth shook, and the rocks split." (Matthew 27:50-51). This is the moment that what was between us and God opened. This is the moment we were no longer separated in any way. I love that this is illustrated above the door. Behind the torn curtain is beautiful gilded tile work.

Baskets of fruit topping the spires

Interior facing the altar

One of the many beautiful windows

Staircase next to the entrance that will become the Glory Facade.

Eric outside the Nativity Facade. This side is so detail-dense, it is difficult to make out the individual symbols. This side illustrated the story of the birth of Christ.