2013 vs Goals: How'd I Do?

A couple of weeks after 2013 began, I posted some thoughts on how this year would be different.  Before it ends, a quick check on how well those plans came about:

• Item 1, get a puppy: Huge Furry Check.  As you know, Fergie has been brightening our home since early February.
• Item 2, renovate the master bath and/or kitchen: Kinda Check.  After all the back and forth and side distractions, the contracts have been signed, and work begins next month on our new master bathroom.  The kitchen will have to wait.
• Item 3, redo living room etc.: Kinda Check.  The scrapbooking materials have indeed been moved downstairs, and David has chosen to make it part of his Family Life merit badge for Scouts to (a) clear out the train stuff and make a space for Mary's scrapping downstairs, and then (b) help us paint the living room a new color.  He's taken apart one of the now-extraneous train sets; we need to finish with the others and then move onto the painting (once Mary selects a color).
• Item 4, drumming: Big Check.  Not only have I my own kit now, but I've had several more opportunities to play, both with my home church but now also with Burke UMC's LifeSign service,the latter of which I never would have anticipated at the start of the year.  As 2014 begins, I'm sharing lead drum duties in both places, it would appear….
• Item 5, writing projects: Ummm….  In reality I've begun collecting materials for two projects, one of which is further along than the other, but neither is done this year, and if I'm honest with myself, I'll be lucky to finish by the time I'm 50.

Isn't that always how it seems to go with my goals? Some things done completely, some things under way and moving in the right direction, and some other things I just haven't been able to move the ball on as much as I had hoped.  Candidly, I doubt 2014 will be much different: some things I may deeply want to accomplish, I will probably look back in 365 days and say, Well, that didn't work out.  That doesn't mean we don't keep trying: which, if anything, is probably the best or even the only lesson I can take from any New Year's resolutions.

Christmas 2013

We've posted a set of pictures from our Christmas morning adventures; click here or on the link at right, and come see our holiday!

Observations: Christmas 2013

Thoughts that occur to me as Christmas afternoon fades to Christmas evening:

• We've got a good doggie.  When we set up the Christmas tree, there was a momentary look of "these people are insane: they bring a tree inside!"  Apart from that, she's scarcely paid it any attention.  We were careful to put the breakable decorations up high; turns out she really couldn't care less about it.
• We're in kinda a sweet spot for getting up Christmas morning.  The kids are still enough into Christmas that they want to get up early and go see what the presents are.  As teen/pre-teens, though, they're not banging on my head at 5:30 anymore.  I was able to sleep in until after 7:00 this year.  Maybe next year, 7:30?
• We're also really past the whole drama of not having received every single thing on our wish lists. And surprises--like Sarah receiving a recurve bow and some arrows, and David receiving .380 ammo and personal protective gear for shooting--are beginning to be more appreciated.
• I am really just about thisclose to a food coma from the bacon-wrapped roast pork tenderloin (and everything else that was on the dinner table).  That's a lotta pork.
• Between Mary and David, 17 DVD/video-game sized packages were opened.  Mary should be set on her Bond movies for a few hours.  David has already learned how to kill everything in Call of Duty Ghosts…that didn't take long.
• Is it a sign that I'm getting old, when I really do appreciate the oh-so-practical gifts more than the rest?
• All the baking, all the cooking, and despite our best efforts there's still about as much food left as when we started.  I really could have done half the prep and still felt overfull at the end.

Our Christmas Card

This year, we decided to try something new: Instead of mailing several, several dozen Christmas cards and writing a letter, we've gone online.  Welcome our new Christmas card blog, kleppingers2013.blogspot.com, where we've posted up photos, videos, and descriptions of our year--a little bit about each of us, including our furry addition.  Click over to see how our year went, then be sure to return and hit the Subscribe To Us links at the right.

ATL24

A couple of weeks ago I posted an essay on the ballet of Delta planes at Atlanta International Airport.  How could I have known that CNN was already at work on a documentary, exploring 24 hours in the life of that airport and all that goes on in and out of the terminal?

"ATL24" is a multimedia production on cnn.com that shows some of the beauty I was trying, poorly, to capture.  View the video trailer, then click over to the main site and follow a day in the life of the world's busiest airport, then maybe watch how they made it...and then tell me what you think--is there beauty to be seen there, or is it all just utilitarian point-A-to-point-B?

Atlanta International Ballet

(I wrote this in the Delta SkyClub overlooking Terminal T and Terminal A at Atlanta in September, en route home from a terrific weekend in Houston with Glenn and his mom, helping them with a few projects.)

I have a terrible confession to make.  While I, like so many others, have my own stories of horror about bad airport experiences, on the whole I actually enjoy being at one.  I welcome the sense of adventure they represent.

I enjoy watching the busyness, the hurrying ballet of men and machines.  Perhaps the first thing to notice is the graceful pas-de-deux at a single gate.  The aircraft noses in to a gate while the ramp chief guides them in, with the final "X" of his sticks to stop it precisely as needed.  The trains of baggage carts snaking about.  Some of the baggage trains are purposeful: pulling up to a luggage ramp or taking loads from the plane to the baggage center.  Others, not so much, and it's harder to tell whether perhaps some cart driver isn't perhaps just out for a spin.  It's fun to guess which are which.

That same dance repeats itself over and over up and down the rows of gates, with aircraft pulling in, aircraft backing out, some headed left, some headed right.  Look along the ramp and see the different classes of aircraft, all wearing the same Delta livery: rows of MD-88s and 737s, the workhorses, bound for places such as Raleigh-Durham, or Baton Rouge, or Chattanooga.  And here and there, the majestic 747s, the impressive 777s, and perhaps a foreign-flagged A380, each bound for exotic locations such as Rome, Rio, or Johannesburg.  I sigh a little, never having been to any of those places, wondering what adventures could happen there, and marveling at the sense of possibility that inheres to each aircraft.

When the kids were younger, we'd actually do a day at the airport as a family event.  We would go to National Airport and sit in front of those enormous windows looking out onto the ramp and the runway.  David would point to a plane and ask where it was going; I would see it's a United flight, and they only go to Chicago from DCA, and so I could sound truly impressive by telling him "Chicago."  Or the American Airlines flights: "Miami or Dallas." And then of course he'd pick a US Airways flight, which of course could be going anywhere from DCA.  Smart kid, testing how much Dad knows.

Now that they're older, we don't do that anymore.  And as I begin to contemplate what retirement could be like someday, I do wish I could do more of this with Mary: exploring new cities, jetting off to a new adventure now and again.  For now I have to content myself with imagination and wonder, and appreciation for the subtle rhythms and the varieties, in an international airport.

Is There A Doctor In The…Neighborhood?

I have to find a new GP…and I really don't want to wade into that swamp.

My doctor for the last twenty years has "retired"--I put it in quotes because he has stepped out of the practice and has opened a boutique concierge-care service for those (not me) with plenty of disposable income.  I loved seeing him: once, when I began having trouble with my knee, I led with the classic, "Doc, it hurts when I do this." "Well, don't do that," he knew to reply. I also enjoyed having a doctor whose body-mass index was roughly mine, as it tended to cut down on the "you really need to lose weight" commentary.

His former practice remains, and in fact for a couple of things here and there I've been in to see the nurse practitioners.  But I need a new doctor, and I don't really have an attachment to anyone else at that old practice--which has become more difficult to drive to since we moved here in 2004.  It's gotten really old to have to drive at least half an hour to see the practice--and that's non-rush-hour traffic.  Surely there has to be someone much closer by who can be what I need.

I've begun the process, as it seems one does these days, by searching online and through my insurance provider, to see who in the area out here by the house actually takes my insurance.  I then began checking other websites: healthgrades.com or WebMD or any of a dozen other places, all in an effort to learn more about the candidates nearby.  But what am I looking for in a doctor?  In many respects I have no idea.  For instance, I seem to have two principal choices in age: either folks who are over 55 (experienced, not much I could throw at them they haven't seen; but, prone to retiring themselves in the next decade or so), or around 30-35 (likely having the freshest training from med school; but do I really want a doctor younger than me? Isn't that what old people have?).  Or, do I take a sexist approach and rule out all the women, regardless of qualifications, so I don't have to discuss prostate health with one as I age?  Do I care about where he went to med school?  Not so much as I do whether he's been disciplined by the state board…all of which is out there now.

And other considerations exist that weren't dreamt of two decades ago when I found my retiree.  How user-friendly is his website? Will he interact via e-mail, or does every question have to be done in person at an appointment (at $20 apiece)?  And how many layers of answering-system hell do I have to endure to make a simple appointment?

It all feels so…commercial, like I'm comparison shopping for a new car.  Or vaguely "gotcha," as if the negative comments posted up about a doctor are truly representative of his service, instead of just being the pissed-off ones who are prone to posting anyway.  Gone are the days, it seems, when everyone knew the doctors in town, which ones were good for which kinds of patients.

I'm left with a sense of dread as I begin this effort.  I hope it won't be as difficult as it appears likely to be.

Year-End Gift Lists

The kids have begun their work on updating their gift ideas lists, ahead of Christmas, and Mary and I have too.  We've also added a category for Mom, for those Up North who may want ideas for her for the holidays; as she adds more ideas we'll keep this current.

Perspectives

Monday night I heard from a friend of mine who hails from several states away; his teenager that day had taken active steps towards self-harm and threatened to keep at it, so he was at the ER.  He spoke harrowingly of a beloved child who that day could not see the love, could only see the darkness and who had "had it" with the darkness and just wanted out.  We spoke only briefly, as he had so much to tend to (securing a referral to an adolescent psychiatric facility, juggling paperwork and a distraught teen); we texted; and I so much wanted to be there to do something to help.

The next day, on taking my mom around to various appointments, I learned the twinges in her right leg come from a spinal stenosis that's not severe enough to merit surgery, just fortnightly visits to Centreville for cortisone shots; the fall she sustained from the bed Sunday morning meant a visit to the optometrist; her cat needed food from the vet; and all in all I didn't make it in to the office until after 1, wherein I learned of the various lacks-of-progress in various projects, and generally had a quite frustrating afternoon at the office.

Sometimes I believe God places things in front of us by way of a message.  The message of Monday night, interpreted in the light of Tuesday, was, to me, "You might find this frustrating, that's true.  But you really don't have it that bad at all, do you?  You are blessed; whether you stop to acknowledge it is up to you, but y'know what, you really aren't that badly off."

Garrison Keillor said it well: Thank you, dear God, for this good life, and forgive us if we do not love it enough.

"You're Not From Around Here, Are You?"

This last weekend I had the opportunity to participate in the Laity Sunday service at church, and to bring the sermon at the 9:45 and 11:00 services.  Here's the sermon I preached at 11--take a listen and tell me what you think!

Playing Out the String, Forever

Last weekend I spend in Houston with Glenn, my brother-from-another-mother, helping said brother and mother clear out many of Glenn's dad's things.  It's been six years since he passed, and Mom has gotten to the point of being ready to part with his extensive collections of superheroes and James Dean paraphernalia; Glenn asked if I would help lift a few boxes, and knowing how much I enjoy (a) spending a weekend with him, and (b) doing so in Houston, I readily agreed.

Among the quintessentially Houston things we did were Texas barbecue at Goode Company on Kirby before an Astros game at Minute Maid on Saturday night.  As the 'Stros have now successfully passed 100 losses in the season, the reader will not be surprised to learn they lost to the Angels the night we were there.

Glenn has since posted up his essay on the game and the experience (read it!), as well as several of his always outstanding pictures of the scene; the ones of the Astros legends' jerseys--players I grew up with, heroes of an unheroic team--came out especially well given the amount of my drool he had to scrape off the glass.

His essay notes the futility of being a lifelong Astros fan, and Glenn posits that I'm more a fan simply by dint of distance: it's harder to be as excited when the annual disappointments occur in the same area code.  Perhaps he's right.  I also see value in my continued fandom as a character lesson for David and Sarah.  It's easy to back a perennial winner, to get used to seeing your players in the World Series--or to hop from one winner to another.  But our kids learn lessons from the things we do, moreso than the things we say, and there's an integrity to staying true even when your team just flat-out stinks as much as the Astros do.  I like to think that it adds to the integrity of what I mean when I tell them that some commitments in life--faith, marriage, choosing to run the risk of pregnancy--really hold lifelong implications, and that even when those things are rough sailing, we stay true.

Glenn's absolutely right that this year's squad is reduced to playing out the string; heck, Jose Altuve was the DH for the night we were there, a night in which no Astros batter had more than a .300 average.  Regardless of the quality of play, in each of the (four?) times I've journeyed to Minute Maid, I've had an absolutely terrific time.  I cannot adequately describe the sensation of coming "home" to a place that I've never been (whoa, there's a great sermon brewing there on the Kingdom), but that's what it feels like, strolling the mezzanine surrounded by thousands of others in Astros garb..."I am with my people, and they are beautiful," becomes my mantra.  And you know what? Local or growing up in the 802,  a World Series berth or a hundred losses, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Maturing Pride

Over the summer, when we replaced the carpet in the house, David laid claim to the computer desk that had been in the study; we moved it into his room in place of the one he'd had from Mary from when she was a girl.  As summer ended, we helped him clear it off and make a study spot for him in his room, so he had a place (other than in front of the Xbox) to do homework.

I am shocked to report that for the first two weeks, it has worked!

David's laptop and AP World History texts live up there, and each night we see signs that he's using them both--and taking notes, and writing, and reading.  He seems to have started the year by making a conscious, concerted effort to tend to his homework.

Moreover, he has volunteered (!) to give up several of his Saturdays for a project, organized through the school, called "Capturing the Voices of WWII."  He and some of his friends will be trained, then spend their days at the World War II memorial downtown conducting oral history interviews of surviving WWII veterans who come to the memorial.  He is really looking forward to an opportunity to capture the voices, and video, of the last survivors of the Greatest Generation--conducting interviews, learning their stories, and capturing them for the ages to come, so others can remember the sacrifices they made and what it was like to serve 70 years ago in the hell of WWII.

The boy is maturing.  He is more willing than ever before to set aside the immediate pleasures and to think of his responsibilities, and of something larger than himself. Oh, sure, we have our moments of teenage attitude, but on the whole, this has been a tremendous start to his sophomore year.  He is maturing, and he is taking pride in his work and in what he can bring to the world.

And as a father I find myself experiencing my own maturing pride in the young man he is becoming.  I can probably count on one hand the number of times my dad said he was proud of me.  In looking at these first couple of weeks of school, I can see multiple reasons for pride in my son, and it reminds me of the need to let him know how proud I am of the man he's emerging into.

Random Thoughts: Sitting at the Outer Banks

• Two full days into our visit and I still haven't reached the point of being content to just...sit.  I'm still bedeviled with a sense that I should be Doing Something.  Mind you, I'm not quite sure what  that is...  Last year I seemed to reach that sitting phase earlier in the trip.
• Mornings: awake after 9, coffee and Bloody Mary, watch the waves. Afternoons: beach, reading,  gin & tonic.  Evenings: dinner, wine, beach stroll, mojitos.  I could get used to this routine.
• This is so much nicer a beach home than last year's shack.  Hands down.  And Duck Donuts is a five minute walk from here.
• Some part of me really likes the idea of having a place on the beach like this; the larger part fears the mortgage payments on a $600K beachfront home.  And the idea of having to drive four-five hours (on a good day) to get here...that's evil too.
• Who took away my precious little babies and replaced them with this buff dude and two-piece-wearing girl?
• I told myself I was going to work on some of my creative writing and other projects this week, and that I would get up and take a run, perhaps with Sarah.  So far I haven't even been able to finish my first book yet, and as for getting up, it's been after 9am each morning, hungry, with no Sarah and no interest in a run.  Certainly not after the aforementioned Duck Donuts.
• If someplace like this could be our retirement home, Mary would be happy; I'd want to think about exploring some other places too, like Charleston.  And I always argue for Houston, within walking distance of Minute Maid, to no avail.

Definitely NOT A Beach Read

I am not in the habit of making unsubstantiated assumptions, but indulge me for a moment and see if this makes sense.  It does seem that many a middle-aged man catches a glimpse of a younger woman and part of his brain sighs and thinks, If only I were 25 again; see: Affair, Profumo; or LA Story.  I imagine it possible that some segment of those men may also catch a glimpse of some coeds, and think, If only I were 18 again; see: Buttafuoco, Joey.  And yes, some segment of those middle-aged men may well be fathers themselves.  But it takes a large leap into the queasy depths to imagine living the story in Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, which I finally read this summer.

I have been working my way through pieces of literature that, by neglecting English Lit courses in college since freshman year, I had not actually read.  Much of what I've read of Plato is in that category of self-paced learning.  This year, Nabokov's most famous work finally became "next up" in my list.

In case it's not made your reading list either, the book traces the history of the narrator's paedophilia, focusing mainly on his pursuit of his landlady's 12-year-old daughter.  What a completely creepy book to read at this stage in my life, simply because the eponymous girl in the novel is the same age as my own daughter (I did not know this fact when I picked it up): I had always imagined the two characters were closer in age, such as 25 and 16, vice mid-40s and 12.

As a study of manipulative evil, as a study of how predators work on their prey, and as a study of how selfishness blinds one to the effect it has on others, the book is remarkable.  I imagine it would be required reading for anyone about to work in our Innocent Images program, for instance, or to work with the various Behavioral Analysis Units at Quantico.  It's simply impossible to overlook the "Eww!" factor, though.  While Nabokov is hardly graphic in his descriptions, the mere pursuit he chronicles induces skin-crawl.  There are novels and examples of literature whose purpose is to shock, to provoke, to test boundaries, and this is certainly one prime example of it.  And in the reactions themselves, we often learn a lot.

In the midst of reading it, Mary asked if I liked the book.  "No," I truthfully answered, for reasons of the above.  I can cross it off my list and move on.  It will take, however, copious amounts of brain bleach to scrub off the sticky "Eww!"-ness of it, though.

Reading List for 2013

Each Christmas I get books--and real, physical, dead-tree-editions of them, too.  When clearing out things from under the tree I make a stack of the books next to the Reading Chair, which is the comfy armchair in our bedroom, and start working my way through them.  This year's stack by the Reading Chair was quite high, as I knew I needed to have several things for the Disney Cruise.  I just finished the last of them:

• Janan Ganesh, George Osbourne: Austerity Chancellor.  Was expecting a hack job on the unpopular Chancellor of the Exchequer who is leading the effort to rationalize Britain's debt.  Was pleasantly surprised to see a pretty balanced biography of this young figure.  Enjoyable, but regrettably didn't plow much new ground in the behind-the-scenes aspects of the book.
• Richard Aldous, The Lion and the Unicorn.  Very readable account of the biographies of Gladstone and Disraeli and their bitter struggles for power in 19th-century British politics.  Seemed to be a bit of a fan of Disraeli, yet not overmuch. Was hoping for more examples of their famous biting wit across the despatch boxes, but enjoyed very much all the same.
• Jon Meacham, Thomas Jefferson: The Art of Power.  Less about political power--its acquisition and exercise--than I had hoped.  An accessible and easy-reading biography of Jefferson, but seemed broader than the subtitle had implied.
• The Portable MBA. I actually had a much earlier edition of this book, but upgraded it and finally read it cover to cover.  Three folks in our Section are taking an MBA course, and I find myself wondering if it makes sense to follow suit, to bolster my credentials for whatever may come after my time in Budget Section.  The book helped by pointing out places I feel comfortable (strategy, marketing) and places I'm not (corporate finance, accounting) and thus places I probably need more exposure to before (if!) investing in another degree.
• Stephen Kendrick, et al., The Resolution For Men. Not all my reading is politics and finance: this was the text that accompanied our men's Bible study group this spring, and which followed from the movie, Courageous, that we all watched at the start of the sessions.  Most men die with regrets about the kind of man they were to their wives and children.  This study calls us to be the kind of men of courage that God expects, and to lead our families appropriately.  Thought-provoking and stirring.
• Frederick Beuchner, The Clown in the Belfry. A gift from my step-brother, who had previously given me another of Beuchner's works of sermons.  His simple, no-nonsense style reminds me of C. S. Lewis, but his connections to New England and Vermont make it all the more like coming home.
• Hilary Mantel, Bring Up the Bodies. Yes, my first work of fiction on the list--and actually, I think, the first one on the pile I read.  I had just finished Wolf Hall at the end of 2012, on the recommendation of a senior executive at OMB (long story), and enjoyed it so much I had to jump right into the second in the trilogy.  It did not disappoint: I cannot wait for the third to come out!

Some definite themes in my reading: British history, politics, biography, and Christian growth.  I do seem to be in a zone of reading on those topics between last year and this year; it will be instructive to see what 2014's pile looks like in January.

There is one other work of fiction I read this summer, but (a) it wasn't part of the Christmas pile of books to start the year, and (b) it deserves its own discussion separately.  That would be Vladimir Nabokov's Lolita, a subject for another day.

One (Renovation) Step At A Time

Progress on the home renovations onion has been slow, but it has been made.  Consider that so far this year, we have:

• Renovated the laundry room,
• Negotiated the financing to tackle redoing the master bath and the kitchen, and
• Arranged for new closet systems to be installed

To that list we can now add, re-carpeted the entire upstairs: last week we completed that effort with the installation of new carpet throughout the upper floor, and even in the study--the only carpets not done were the entire basement level, which can certainly wait another decade as far as I'm concerned.  

But now that the carpets are done upstairs, we can proceed with the installation of the new closet system, which will be done on August 15.  That will mean some more demo and repainting work beforehand, but things that I should certainly be able to knock out beforehand.

We are, after all, making progress on our plans for the year.  And I am also proud of the fact that (as best we can tell) Fergie has not yet "christened" the new carpets, although she certainly does enjoy snuffling in them for all the wonderful new smells.  And it is a wonderful change to have springy carpeting underfoot, as opposed to what we had had for at least the last nine years (and who knows how long before that).

Over our Vermont week I hope we can come to consensus on the contractor for the master bath, which we've agreed will be the first project.  Then perhaps we can begin setting that up, and make that happen within this year.

Isabella, 2011 - 2013

Tonight we lost one of our two pet gerbils, Isabella, who had been Sarah's.  We got them at the end of March 2011, hardly as newborns, and knowing that the average gerbil lives to be two to three years old, it's not surprising that we're now facing the loss of our first one.  But that doesn't make it any easier on Sarah tonight.

Isabella was the "fun one," the social one, the one who would run over to the cage bars first to sniff us and see if we brought any pumpkin seeds.  She also, quite frankly, became the plump one, despite being the one more likely to be found on the wheel than her sister Gerb.  We tried to spread the treats around, but somehow Bella seemed to be able to wrangle more than enough food.

Bella was the one who, on being put into her plastic gerbil ball, would run and run and run all over the floor while the kids changed their cages; Gerb would be more content to just wait patiently.  She would try to climb out of the box, or the cage, or wherever, and when we opened the cage door to let them come out and explore, Bella was always the first one to venture out.  She was the first gerbil to trust me enough to come out into my hands and let me pick her up and carry her around.

Sarah loved her gerbil, and is taking it quite hard, blaming herself for not caring for them enough.  With a new dog in the house, it's understandable that the old gerbils would have gotten less attention over the past few months, but they were never truly abandoned.

We found a box that had been the presentation box for a fountain pen, and made a bed of aspen chips for her, and nestled her in there, covering her head with some extra chips.  David dug a nice deep hole out back, next to the azaleas, in the same area as where we buried Fishy Fish some four or five years ago, and laid her to rest.  Jacob Franklin, who was visiting, made an impromptu cross from a twig, and so tonight Isabella sleeps a much longer rest, while Sarah will hardly sleep at all.  Rest in peace, little gerbil, and thanks for the memories.

Canine Theology

This past Sunday, I had the opportunity to bring the message to the 8:30 service at our church, Sydenstricker UMC.  Somebody thought it would be a good idea to record it.  Silly.  Anyway, I talked about what our new dog has been teaching me about faith.  Give a listen, see what you think.

Fergie: The Q1 Report

It's been three months since the firm expanded and acquired new human capital...er, canine...and in the interests of keeping shareholders appraised of the status of the firm's latest strategic expansion, the following are offered on Fergie's first three months with us.

Consistent with expectations, Fergie is becoming more and more a team player, integrating into operations fairly seamlessly.  While she had some missteps, especially in the first few weeks, fortunately the rest of the firm did not misstep into her missteps frequently at all.  In fact, over the past month there have been vanishingly few incidents, as she is becoming more confident and capable of managing the independence expected of someone in her position, especially during the six hours each weekday that she's alone.  Evenings, she is most often found in conference with other members of the firm, usually in the family room watching TV; nights are on a rotation among three of the firm's four principals (the fourth tends to keep his door closed).

Fergie has displayed an intellectual capacity we had not fully expected, on several levels.  At a more cunning level, she has demonstrated the ability to pry open cupboards and pantry doors left insufficiently closed, as well as the intellectual curiosity to want to explore all that lies behind those formerly closed portals.  Sometimes the results are amusing, other times more annoying.  However, at a higher level her intellectual curiosity manifests itself in her love of books.  Several occasions she has selected a book from one of our bookshelves and simply devoured it.  While her desire for self-improvement is appreciated, the resulting "book reviews" she creates are not.

One area of growth remains manners around others not of the firm, where she is capable of displaying almost animal-like aggression on occasion, necessitating a quick, impromptu performance review session.  This seems most pronounced among other canines she may encounter, and the occasional moth, for some unknown reason.  However, her essential mien remains one of welcome, as long as the proper amount of scritches are applied strategically.

Into the second quarter, we continue to anticipate further growth and development, while maintaining her healthy 46-pound bottom line.  Simultaneously, we expect further refinement in performance as conditions continue to improve and integration becomes more and more complete.

The Home Renovations Onion

It's now four months since the Home and Renovations Show we attended to begin the process of possibly redoing our kitchen and master bathroom, and three months since we had contractors out to give us initial estimates.

And nothing's begun.

Making progress on this has been like peeling back an onion: nothing is as simple as it seemed at first blush.  For instance, one of our first commitments was to redo the closets with a new closet system for us and for Sarah.  We've signed the contract to get that done.  However, it dawned on us that the new closet furniture will be installed, and pretty immovably, on top of the carpets...the carpets that have been there for at least the nine years since we moved in, and God knows how long before that.  Replacing the one in our closet is easy; it's a stand-alone patch of carpet, since the tile floor of the bathroom begins just outside it.  However, Sarah's closet carpet flows into her room...which flows into the upstairs hall...which flows into the guest room (oy, there's one that really needs replacing), David's room, our room...which means a much larger project than at first blush.  (The carpet guy is coming out tonight to take a look.)

Picking a contractor took awhile; I think we've come to a point of decision on whom we want to use, but we also want to lock in the financing first before we make a multi-tens-of-thousands commitment and find we can't back it up.  So we back up to start looking for a home equity line of credit (HELOC).

A simple query on Lending Tree turned into an interesting snapshot of credit markets post-2008.  Only one lender was willing to talk with us, and quoted us rates that seemed higher than I had expected; apparently these days lenders just aren't willing to take a subordinate position to homeowners, even those of us with credit scores around 800.  They suggested a cash-out refinance, but then when we started exploring that (with a fresh Lending Tree query), everyone said we were asking for too much cash out for the credit markets to bear these days.

Fortunately, one lender made the comment that a credit union has different, looser rules, and so we're now in the process of getting final approval for a HELOC through our credit union.  But the multiple rounds of that have precluded us from making final decisions on a contractor, let alone the scope of work and details of the project.

I do remain optimistic that our plan for the year--that There's Gonna Be Some Changes--will still come about, even in this realm.  It just may be into the fall before the renovations are done.  And it will take all my willpower not to suggest to the designers to put up wallpaper with onions on it, to remind me constantly about the level of effort required to get there.

Our New Laundry Room

When we last left our story, we had two things: a dryer failure, and consequently, the excuse we'd been waiting for to get a new laundry room.

The previous laundry room had been what the builders had installed, and it was unwieldy (and always a bit of a mess):

Side-by-side appliances, no place for the kids to drop backpacks, overhead cabinets that were clunky and beige walls with 1988 lineoleum floors...all just begging to be tossed out.

We pulled out the old appliances and the old laundry sink (which had no underneath storage to speak of), tore up the old lineoleum floor (both satisfying and frustrating), pulled down the old cabinets, and left a shell of a room.

Putting it back together, we put in the new floor, arranged for the dryer power and vent duct to be moved (which also surfaced the fact that the duct hadn't really been connected anymore--now that's fixed), painted a new color of slate blue, and added wainscoting and trim (she had always wanted wainscoting somewhere in the house).  New cabinets and the bench went in.  Here's how it came out:

We did everything ourselves but for the connecting of the appliances, the rerouting of the duct and power, and the connecting of the new sink.

In the end, it cost us about $3,350 for the new laundry room (fully half that is the appliances), plus whatever hours we spent scraping up linoleum glue and putting up the new walls.  We even had a chance to learn more about drywall repair in the process.  Is it worth it? Sure: we finally have a room Mary is happy with, that works well, and that we can be proud of.  I'd call that a good investment.

Disney Cruise 2013!

On Friday evening, March 22, we boarded a flight for Orlando and a seven-night Disney cruise to the Eastern Caribbean aboard the newest ship in the Disney Cruise Line fleet, the Disney Fantasy.

We had a w-o-n-d-e-r-f-u-l time!

Our ship left Port Canaveral Saturday afternoon, and the Disney magic was in full force throughout.  Some highlights:

• We enjoyed Concierge-level accommodations on the 11th deck, which made so many aspects of an already great trip just seamless.  They were able to make last-minute changes to some of our shipboard plans and to accommodate just about everything we asked for. 
• The itinerary was just about perfect: the first two days were days At Sea.  There was no reason at all for us to have to be up by any particular time, so we could just deflate, relax, and absolutely enjoy ourselves.  I cannot tell you the last time I slept in until 11am!
• The kids vanished almost immediately on boarding, to join up with their respective pre-teen and teen clubs.  We saw them for the first half-hour of dinner most nights; they inhaled food and then begged to be allowed to return to their friends.  So essentially, we had a couples cruise to ourselves for most of the week.
• I really enjoyed the Satellite Falls adults-only "pool" and sun deck on 13.  Shielded from the wind by plexiglas, I read hundreds of pages from my books as the ship steamed eastward, and just...aaahhh...
• In fact, with the exception of the rotational dining, the movie theatre, and one or two other things, we scarcely left the adults-only zones on decks 11-13.  And no one cared!
• I brought three massive books on board with me.  I finished them all.  Heaven.
• Next time on Fantasy or the sister ship, Dream, especially if we're blessed with cruising with friends again, I am definitely getting Suite 11004 again.  Due to the way the ship curves at that point, the verandah we had, looking out over the port side of the ship, was perhaps half the size of our stateroom itself.  Par-tay!

Along the way, we spent a day in St Thomas, USVI, and then another day in San Juan, PR, before stopping at Disney's island, Castaway Cay, which we explored more than we did 18 months ago.  Be sure to check out our photo album for some highlights.

David had himself a little shipboard romance again; this time, Ally from Winnipeg and he really hit it off.  I'm not supposed to say that he got his first kiss, probably.  They've Facetimed regularly since then, and he's stayed in touch with several of the other kids from the Vibe teen zone.  The teens of the Fantasy cruise from that week even have their own Facebook page, although I'm not allowed to see much of it.

Before the trip, Sarah was all worried that she wouldn't meet anyone, that she wouldn't make any friends.  The last night aboard ship, leaving Castaway Cay for Florida, she was in t-e-a-r-s at the thought of never seeing Nicole or Katie or Emma ever again.

Would we do it again?  In a heartbeat.  David is angling for the next one to be a Mediterranean cruise, and you know, there's one leaving next summer from Barcelona, seven nights, stops in France and Italy and he could get to see Vesuvius...

New Design

For the first time since standing this blog up in 2009, we're taking the "there's gonna be some changes" theme of the year to its design and layout.  We can customize the background display by seasons, or weather, or what-have-you.  What do you think? Keep, or toss and go back to the old look?

Laundry Room Renovations

Two weekends ago, the clothes dryer finally died.  It came with the house, eight-plus years ago, and I have no idea how old it was before that.  Combined with the washer giving periodic fits, this became the spark for Mary to declare the time had come for the laundry room that she has always wanted.

Instead of the industrial sink, washer, clothes rack, and dryer all next to each other on the wall, her vision was for a stacked washer-dryer pair, and a bench with shoe storage underneath as a place for backpacks to land and shoes to be stored, with cabinets overhead.  After going back and forth about it, we are keeping a sink, but encasing it in a dark brown ("espresso") wood cabinet to match the bench and cabinetry we're installing.  The old linoleum floor has to go, in favor of new broad-format tiles, and the walls will be painted slate blue with white vinyl wainscoting and trim.

Progress has been...halting.  Between the time to engage with the new puppy, go skiing, and handle multiple competing pressures at our respective jobs, it's taken awhile to get started.  We do have some deadlines, though: the new washer and dryer are to be delivered and installed on the 7th of March, so we have to have the floor installed, the dryer vent rerouted, the dryer power outlet moved, and the drywall repaired and painted behind it, before then.  I keep flashing back to the $4,195 dishwasher project from three years ago: what started out as a simple replacement became a major initiative.  This time around we're doing almost all the work ourselves; staggering it properly and getting everything done will be the challenge.  I am learning drywall repair as I go, as well, so we'll see if the finished project is acceptable.  But it will be different, and more modern, and more colorful, and one more piece of the "there's gonna be some changes" aspect of 2013.

Our Family Ski Weekend

This past weekend, the four of us drove to wild, wonderful West Virginia to the annual Troop 688 ski weekend at Canaan Valley.  This was the first time that the ladies had joined David and me; Mary is not a skier and doesn't enjoy getting cold, and Sarah had not previously been interested, but this year announced she wanted to try to learn snowboarding.

Confidentially, I had low expectations for her snowboarding adventure; I thought that despite the 90-minute lesson, the repeated face-plants into the snow, and a little snow down the parka, would quickly turn her interest into tubing or just watching TV at the lodge.  How little credit I gave her!  Sarah gamely strapped into her snowboard, and I caught up with her at one point during her lesson, as she was maneuvering quite impressively.  After her lesson, over lunch she enthused about the experience; after lunch, she and I headed to the bunny trails and lift to ski/snowboard together.

During our first run together, she impressed with how long she was able to stay up before catching an edge and tumbling over; I managed to catch this particular run on video:

We then made a second run together, to the two bunny trails that make the long loop from the top of the bunny lift to the bottom.  Not only did she stay upright coming off the lift, but she completed the top leg of the trail without falling, and nearly made it to the bottom of the second without falling as well!  This with only one 90-minute lesson: color me impressed!

However, the next time wasn't as fortunate.  She elected to try the broad trail that runs directly underneath the bunny lift; it turned out to be a bit steeper than she had expected, and she lost control and fell nearly at the bottom, bruising her left knee and taking her out of snowboarding for the rest of the afternoon.  Before the weekend was over, though, she did say she thought she'd be back next year, and I certainly hope so, as it was a special time skiing with my daughter.

David, of course, continues skiing and trying to win races among his fellow Scouts.  Their favorite trail to do so winds from the top of the mountain to the bottom, and is called Timber Ridge.  Once, I tried to stay caught up with him on Sunday, and this was the result:

David is the skier principally in the frame, but several times his speed takes him far off or around his friend John on the snowboard; once, he soars up through a wooded cut-through onto the bottom part of a black-diamond trail, Gravity, that I finally mastered this weekend; he is next seen as the rocket shooting through the frame in a tuck, and well off into the distance for the final sprint to the finish.  By my rough back-of-the-envelope calculation, he's averaging about 18 mph on this run...not Olympic speed, but fast enough for his little 14-year-old heart to get a thrill.

Despite Sarah's injury we all enjoyed the weekend.  It's nice to get away as the four of us and to try new things, again continuing with the theme of 2013: there's gonna be some changes!

Meet Fergie!

The first of the big changes of 2013 has come about: on Saturday, February 9, our family grew by one (and four paws), when Fergie came home with us from the Fairfax County Humane Society.  Here's Sarah with our girl out at the HSFC farm:

After months of "I wanna puppy" and talking about how things would be different, that morning we went out to meet the dogs and especially Fergie, whom we'd seen online and who looked like a sweetie.  She greeted us very warmly right away, with a whipping tail that showed how happy she was to see us.  We met one other dog that day, but kept coming back in our hearts to Fergie.  We were so happy to be able to take her home with us that day.

Fergie is about two, maybe two-and-a-half years old, a blend of black lab and what looks like doberman in her face, maybe some pit bull in her eyes, and a touch of boxer in her stance, and brindle-brown down her legs and muzzle with a white chest and a couple of white toes.  She was found as a stray down in Page County on July 31, 2012, and taken to the Page County Humane Society, where she received her current name.  She was clearly someone's pet, because when they took her to the vet for a checkup and to be spayed, they found she was already fixed.  Additionally, she knows how to "sit" and was (nominally) housebroken.  Page County's is a kill shelter, but they hung onto her, knowing she was something special; but in December they ran out of room and asked Fairfax to take her.  Someone's apparent loss is our most certain gain.

She has a lot of her puppy energy sometimes, and loves playing fetch and tug of war; her "lab" side comes out in how she has to shakeshakeshake every toy to make sure it's well and thoroughly dead.  However, she also has a cuddly side, and will settle in with you on the couch to watch TV and just be scritched.  We're learning more sides of her personality all the time; she snores; she can play-bite and roughhouse, and then be just a puppy-eyed charmer (now who wouldn't want to take this face home?):

We're all learning to adapt to having her with us: there have been "accidents," and we have to master the fact that even when it's pouring, Fergie needs to go out.  She also displays some "leash aggression," growling or barking at other dogs while she's on her leash (but plays well in off-leash, apparently, according to HSFC).  We also wonder if the crate and the basement were the "bad dog" places at her former house: she won't stay in her crate willingly, and while she'll run up and down our main stairs, she will not go down to the basement no matter who or how many of us are down there.

We start dog-training (really, people-training) on March 2 with her, and we hope to reach our mutual levels of comfort and routine shortly.  Our lives have certainly been changed--it's almost like having a new toddler in the house again--but look into those eyes and tell me it's not worth it?

There's Gonna Be Some Changes

Twenty-odd years ago, a good friend and I would greet each New Year's with the same promise: this year, we said, "there's gonna be some changes."  One year it was when I got married; another year, she promised she was going to get a new job.  The dreams of each new year sounded big, and impressive, and maybe just a little scary at their immensity.

The first 31 days of 2013 suggest the old trope will actually be coming true this year: there's gonna be some changes, in 2013.  As the shine of New Year's resolutions fades and we confront in February the gritty realities of the year to come, there's still quite an extensive list of things we're planning to do this year:

• Tomorrow we go to visit the Fairfax County Humane Society's dog farm and look at doggies.  After months of "I wanna puppy I wanna puppy I wanna puppy," we're actually going to do it.  We've bought the food and water dishes and baby gates (to mark off space in the house so Doggy can get used to it gradually instead of Whoomp all at once), and we have our eye on one dog we're hoping to meet and who might come home with us later in the month.
• In mid-January Mary and I went to the Home and Remodeling Expo and began, formally, the process of spending tens of thousands of dollars.  The hope is to be able to redo the master bathroom and some portion of the kitchen; we've already contracted with one outfit do redo Sarah's and the master closets, and we've already met with three contractors (fourth is coming up) to see what they can do and how large a bag of money we'd need to come up with.  But one way or another, one room or another (if not both) will be done in 2013.
• After years of inaction, we're beginning to redo the living room: scrapbooking supplies are moving to the rec room, which brings us to...after years of inaction, work (of a sort) is starting on the train set, too!  I'm making the executive decision that some parts of the train won't ever be set up, and so I'm repurposing parts for later use.  The scrapping station will go where those unused train set parts are stored.
• I bought myself my own drum kit, which is now also ensconced in the rec room.
• And, perhaps inspired during my time at Harvard last month, I have started some writing projects, one of which I want to see through in the coming year.

And that's only the first 31 days! May the good starts begun in January bear fruit throughout the year and into the years to come...