When I went to give her a goodnight kiss last night, Claire was talking in her sleep… in French.
#100happydays #dailyhappy (20/100) …waking up to find my daughter cuddled up beside me. #sheHadABadDream
A “reloaded” post is a quick-clipped summary of a bunch of small things from the past few days. I want to write them down, but I am either lacking in (a) details or (b) time. That’s just how it goes sometimes. Enjoy.
The Chopping Game
I’ve been playing Minecraft again. I’d kinda been off it for a while — the summer mostly — but in the last couple weeks I’ve ventured back into the world we created last winter and I’ve been chopping my way through the new features, rule-sets, and other changes. I’ve still not figured out all the bits, though: I really need to find that wiki and spend some time look at what all the little tweaks mean. The food and nutrition structure has changed substantially over the summer, as has — it would seem — the spawn rate for all the critters. Everything I knew seems slightly askew from what I need to know now. Frustrating, a little, but I enjoy the challenge. Except when I build a giant well-lit cavern with water and pasture that a few months ago would have been sprouting cows and pigs like no one’s business, but then — tumbleweed rolls by — no cows or pigs! WTF? Hey… these are important details for a gamer.
I’ve been picking my way through a new jQuery book I bought trying to, y’know, learn jQuery. I’m not sure how useful it will be as I’m not doing a ton of actual design for websites these days. But it’s another tool, I figure, and it can’t hurt to have some more tools in the old digital tool-belt, right? The book is called Head First jQuery, and is a bit of a spin on the “Dummies” style of textbook, but with computer-ish things. In some ways it’s a little too dumbed down. But the information seems solid enough, so if I can put up with a few more corny examples and bad jokes I should finally have my mind wrapped around that JSON stuff everyone seems to be using these days. I hope.
Sparkle seems to be enjoying her new crate — at least in as much as a dog can enjoy being locked in a confined space. I don’t know if it is just laziness or stubbornness, but over the summer she started doing her thing — y’know… her ‘thing’ — on the floor overnight. We weren’t confining her, but where she used to wake us up to pee, she kinda gave up on that and just went. So we started restricting her to the laundry room at night. And you’d think that would be fine what with a nice bed, a water dish, and a lot of space to walk around in, but pack animal that she is being separated from us by thirty or so feet is apparently a hardship. She was waking us up in the wee hours of the night and doing this thing where she’d try and trick us into letting her out then dashing into our bedroom. It was resulting in a lot of late night chases around the house which one might imagine is not great for sleep. So we got her a bigger, wire-mesh-type cage for our bedroom, thus she seems to sleep through the night now. And that means so do I.
Two to the Power of Eighteen
…is apparently the file-count limit on my web server. And I ran out the other day. I was uploading photos to my gallery and — choke — the errors started popping up and there it was: Out of space, despite the fact that my actual file size quota is still in the single digit percentages. I’d capped my file count, though, and had to spend a few hours that evening deleting old chunks of sites from the server. Now, how the heck does one use up over two-hundred and sixty thousand files in one server, you ask? Well, as it turns out, I still had a copy of my old gallery — Gallery 2 — running in a directory tucked away and linked to from somewhere in this very blog. And it also turns out that if you don’t clean out the cache for that particular bit of software, it just slowly accumulates little tiny inconsequential temporary files… nearly a hundred thousand of them, to be precise. And, yeah, that is a big chunk of my server quota. (All better now, though.)
Boring as it was shuttling about the city with her father collecting building supplies for the basement, Claire found plenty of opportunity to strike back at him by falling soundly asleep in the car just as they were arriving at their destination. Knowing the wrath of an untimely woken child, Claire’s father opted to wait out the naps in a variety of city parking lots whilst pondering just how much easier it would be to run errands without a child in tow and knowing full well he wouldn’t trade the collective lot of his toils for the world.
It’s shortly after 9AM and here we sit again. After setting out to run some errands, Claire crashed in the car five minutes into the drive. Now I’m sitting, waiting — drinking a coffee, at least, after taking the dozing darling through the drive-thru — in front of the paint store. I sense a recurring theme here.
And speaking of basement progress, mom gave me flak last night on the phone for the lack of photos of the stages of development. I’ve taken a few but haven’t had time to upload any. The short version — in text, rather than photos — is walls, colour, lino, tile, ceiling, and NICE! It’s going to be awesome.
And if the girl would just wake up it would be awesome that much quicker.
I was really trying to be proactive this year and not leave any posts until the last minute. But the company just left and it dawned on me I hadn’t posted yet…
Chris sent around an email this morning and turned a guys’ games night into a dinner party with the wives and kids. Thanks to some quick cleaning, shopping, and organizing we had nine people around the dinner table, and Matt, Chris and I (but only Chris and I after Matt went home — he has to work tomorrow) played couple of the new board games we’d acquired over the holidays.
I’d write more but it’s late and I’ve been stumbling through vast collections of complex rules for the last few hours on too much sugar, sporadic rest — and maybe even a little alcohol. So, despite promises for more elaborate posts this December, this will not be one of them. Right now, sleep is required.
In the meantime, I’ve uploaded LOTS and LOTS of Christmas photos here.
Every few nights, say two times a week, we seem to get a night like tonight. I’ve just come off my half-hour-long rock-the-kid stint, wherein one stubborn Claire decides that she is simply too tired to even think about sleeping — and doesn’t.
It’s a mix of things, I suppose.
She’s probably not napping enough in the day.
Maybe dad should have put her in her crib quicker when she did fall asleep in the middle of the afternoon, instead of letting her sleep on his shoulder.
Maybe mom should have… well, I won’t start that game.
For the most part I will admit that we have been very spoiled. Once she is finally asleep, she’s down for the night. None of that waking up and crying for an hour at three in the morning. None of the mixing up days and night. None. And for the most part — every other evening — she falls asleep quickly and quietly, and there is actually some free time for mom and dad.
But then occasionally there is a night like tonight. I was cradling her in my arms, rocking a bit, and reading during the rare moments when she was quiet. But then the blubbering starts. It’s a soft whimpering, as if the crying engine is just warming up from a cold start, puttering for a few minutes until the wailing begins. If I’m good, I can bounce a little quicker, sway in just the right frequency that the sputtering, blubbering, pre-cries will fade out after a moment. If not, then the crescendo. And the fatherly genetic predisposition to respond to one’s crying infant sends an pang of anguish down the spine and wraps an icy claw around one’s heart.
And then there are moments like the one in the photo: a smiling, happy girl who is learning to hold her head up and smile at the sound of her father’s voice. And it’s all worth it.
Grass as a fascination? I think I may need to start a whole new category. If I had a longer USB cable I would SO do this: www.watching-grass-grow.com
In the meantime: day six with a brand-spankin’-new lawn and it’s STILL GREEN. It’s been a hot couple of days. Record-breaking heat. The temperature seems to climb upwards of 34 Celcius. I know some folks out there live daily in that kind of heat, but it’s more to do with the range of temperatures. When we swing between -40 C and + 40 C, well so there!
The dog has been sleeping in our room (temporarily) but only because it would be cruel and unusual to make her sleep in the bog where it is to hot to exist for everyone except the tropical plants. She’ll be back there as soon as it cools down a little.
As for the lawn, it’s been a valiant effort by your’s truly to keep the thing wet. The humidity helps, but not much. Ah, but for a few hours of gentle, cool, rain. Keep checking the weather channel, and root for the puffy-white team!
I’ve been waking up earlier everyday. Call it a mental reprogramming. Rather than sleeping in until half past seven, hopping out of bed, rushing to shower and get myself out the door for work with hectic haste, I have mellowed the process. I set my alarm to shortly after six, turned it to a loud country music station (so that it quickly annoys me and compels me from my slumber) and am ready for work by shortly after seven.
The result is nearly an hour of caz-time.
I get to sit around, go grab a coffee at Starbucks, read a chapter of the current luggable-novel I’m devouring, or better yet, sit and write.
This new process has been musing for about two weeks now, and the thrill is settling into a steady, productive roar. I’ve been trapping some seriously cool ideas on paper, neatly scribbled into a coiled notebook that I force myself to carry around for just such emergencies. The second, followthru result is simply that I’ve compounded a new literary ecology for my morning mind to work through, and it’s yielding some vague progress.
A few dozen pages of scribbles, quirks, ideas, invented conversations, and descriptors can managebly make the leap into a short story of some sort, potentially in the near future. That would be cool.
And then the city stirs.
It’s one of those self-imposed long-weekend things.
We each took Friday and Monday off to drive for five hours and visit Alice and Zach. Some of you might even know where that is.
We spent yesterday on tour. Alice, who is enrolled in a local culinary program, was working — so we invaded her restaurant and had a very tasty breakfast. I don’t know if she believed me when I said the hollandaise was really good: so I’ll publish it here, and that might put some weight behind it.
Zach then led us on a walking tour of the University and downtown. Very green, clean, etc.
One quick stop at the video game store, a swing by the coolest bookstore in the universe, Powell’s, and then we went for coffee before trucking it back to their apartment and spending the evening playing multiplayer video games interspersed with some good eating. Geeky, we know, but you’d be hard pressed to find similar well-rounded collections.
Now it’s Sunday morning… I think. Half the population is still sleeping.
Bel is parked a few blocks away, safe — hopefully — in this low-crime city.
And we’ve got reservations for a nifty five-star restaurant dining experience tonight. Mmmm… five-stars.
I think I’ll go watch some TiVo while I wait for everyone to wake up.
I suppose it wasn’t enough that I got spambotted yesterday, some low-life web-fiend leaving his trash on my personal website, effectively graffiti-scratching his ads throughout my honest commenting system.
And I suppose it wasn’t enough that seconds before I crawled into bed, I spilt nearly a litre of water from my “big cup” all over my night table, dribbling it through most of my junk, cds, books, and notebooks.
But it seems even more frustrating that, being woken by a loud rap on the door at four AM by the manager and some strange man to tell us, still groggy from being recently sleeping, that someone has smashed the back window of our car and broken in. Besides the damage, the culprit escaped with a whopping seventy-fvie cents in shopping-cart quarters, before being chased by the aforementioned “strange man” for a short while and losing his hat. Apparently, he’s a friend of someone in the building, and according to Rolly, they’ll be getting an eviction notice today.
Now I get to drive down to the auto-place and have some glasswork done on our poor little car. Sigh. Happy Thursday.
Last thoughts on the closing of a long day/week: I’m just back from Chris’ after a pleasant evening watching rude movies on DVD. I’ll avoid annoying details, but sneak in that his cat spent a lot of time trying to eat my foot. Why? Why not?
I was out for beer earlier with the crew from the office. Hense, follows the traditional post-afternoon-beer-headache-in-the-evening-thing. I shouldn’t do that. Well, I should, but I should plan better and go for the headache-while-I’m-sleeping-thing so that I don’t waste a perfectly good evening with a headache. Did I mention I have a headache?
…and on that note, I’m going to bed.