Happy Birthday, Bryhnie-T!

Yes, they keep coming hard and fast. The birthday circuit around here is enough to blow anyone's top! Never the less, Bryhn, aka Legolas, woke to a veritable plethora of booty. As it now stands, he has a hand-made bow and quiver (still working on the arrows), a full-fledged Legolas elf suit, a doctor's outfit complete with a traveling emergency case, an excavator, a bike, Alvin and the Chipmunks DVD, a Patagonia windbreaker, etc., etc. Bryhn, right now, is glued to Lord of the Rings taking pointers about how Legolas jumps, shoots, and skates on the Oliphants' trunks. He is sitting on his bike with a pile of new stuff surrounding him. I think this is a good thing; jury's still out, though. I am standing by, ready with the doctor's kit...

Thank you to everyone who sent all the beautiful gifts! As usual it was way, way more than enough. Our boys are spoiled!

Pictures of the Adult Version of Boden's Birthday

Double Dippin'!

Bryhn and Boden both were baptized this morning, by the Reverend Ned Mulligan at the Salisbury School chapel. The service was perfect. It was small, short, intimate, and fun. Ned ("Chappie") opened the ceremony with a brief talk about letting the munchkins run free because, in his eyes, one reason people grow up not enjoying church is because they associate it with rigidity and rules and "sssh!" and "sit still!". That set the tone for a beautiful amount of pandemonium over which the rest of the service took place.
Bryhn was very excited for the "magic elf-water" to be poured over his head (see "Legolas" posting). He stood at the cistern for a good 20 minutes waiting for the special moment. Boden teetered around chasing Grady (who was busy moving chairs).
Godparents, Curtis and Meg Singmaster, did a great job with readings and generally keeping things running smoothly, and Gus and O.B. were kind enough to tear themselves out of bed after a long night of imbibing that ended only hours before.
We all had a nice, relaxing day that cleared and warmed gradually and pleasantly. Now it's time to grill some hamburgers and find some of that magic elf-water to wash it down with...

Happy Birthday, Boden!

So Bode turns the big 01! I am actually writing this on the eve of the big day, and trying to envision the fireworks to come:

5:50am (sleeping in) Boden lets us know he is ready to turn 1.
6:00am Mom and Dad fumble around while waiting for coffee to fire enough nerve endings in their brains so they can speak in sentences containing more than two words.
6:15am "Happy Birthday" is sung by Bryhn, Mom, and Dad.
6:17am Sweet Potatoes are smeared all over Bode's face and hair.
[11 hours pass...]
5:30pm Mom finishes cake for Boden and O.B. who coincidentally has the same birthday as Boden and attended Bowdoin College.
6:00pm Beer flows, Bryhn and Boden scream with glee about something involving hockey or lacrosse sticks.
6:30pm Grilled meat consumed in mass-quantities.
7:00pm Bath time.
9:00pm Entire Fisher family has happily celebrated Boden's big day and are all snoring out of unison...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BODEN!

Happy Earth Day!

I should be going to bed, but I figured I'd better get this one in while I can...

So today is Earth Day. The funny thing is that I have my two VIth Form (senior) classes working on projects that are investigating ways to incorporate renewable energy sources into our lives here at school. I have been e-mailing with my dad about some ideas I had, and one that Haylee and I are excited about is putting up a wind turbine at the Fish Farm. Of course the apple doesn't fall far from the tree sometimes, but I'm hoping the young apple will have better resources available than the tree did (brutalized metaphor, but stay with me).
When I was young, Mom and Dad had a wind generator erected, and I believe it was the late '70's during the Carter oil embargo. I remember Dad and a couple guys putting up the tower and then mounting the very futuristic turbine proudly on top. Little chance was there that we could have envisioned all the excitement to come.
I can still clearly see the power meter spinning backwards as the gusts of wind brought tears to my eyes. Dad was pointing to the meter and shouting, "Look! We're making money!" That was because if the meter was spinning backwards, the power company would pay you for the electricity put back onto the grid. I wish to God Dad had knocked on wood when he hollered those words because, if I'm not mistaken, almost immediately after they left his lips, an awful, screeching, metal-on-metal cacophony caused us to look up and see the suddenly-frozen windmill was down to two propeller blades (from its original three). The speed at which the whole process took place, from the blurred motion of three blades making green-backs out of the demi-hurricane, to a violent, rather scary non-motion, was hard to believe.
I don't know how many times Dad climbed the too-tall tower because the motor burned itself out. That thing went through brakes like I don't know what. Ah yes, those were the days...

So now we are getting one! I hope and pray turbine technology has moved into the modern age. As I write this, I am envisioning that little wheel in the meter spinning madly in reverse, making the fat cash. Bet your ass I'm knockin' on wood!

Happy Earth Day!
www.skystreamenergy.com

Local Rock and Water Tasting

Bryhn, Boden, and Laura had a nice outing at The Steelhead Cafe two days ago. While enjoying the sun on the back patio, they situated themselves around the water table (excellent choice). The water table is reserved for only the most distinguished guests. The maitre d's are very discriminating about who is allowed to sit there.
In any event, the Three Stooges partook in a rock and water tasting of the finest reserves. As should be evident from the pictures, the customers were well satisfied. They indicated to the owners of The Steelhead Cafe that they would be back for more tender vittles soon.

Mad, Mad World

This morning I am sipping my coffee and browsing the news on-line when my eyes unfortunately find an article that causes my same said coffee to find its way back out of my nose at very high speed. Mr. I'm-a-dinner-jacket of Iran tells the world that the price of oil is not high enough in relation to its "true" value. Hmm. He may be correct in terms of supply and demand. The simple fact that we have reached this point is unacceptable. Living in an oil-based economy is no longer viable. Oil is a finite resource, and it is running out. Burning oil pollutes in many, many ways. And, by continuing to rely on oil for our fuel needs, we give power to all the wrong people. We don't need dictators telling us how to spend our money, telling us to burn our way into poverty because he holds all the cards.
It's time to wake up. There is nothing to debate here. We need to turn to renewable resources like wind, water, and sun. The technology is available. American car companies need to stop caving to the oil guys. It's time for the new. We want it; we need it. I hope we can make it until November. Fight the good fight. Now I need to clean up this coffee...

The Rest of the Gang

All right, I admit that I have wandered down a dark and dreary path there for a bit. I have also been remiss with my postings, as my dad reminded me on the phone a few minutes ago.

Spring appears to be serious, and she's now the harbinger of the birthday season. Finn's is on Thursday, and then Boden's on the 25th, and finally Bryhn's on the 29th.
Boden doesn't care what he gets, as long as he can smack a ball with a hockey or lacrosse stick. He's crazy about it. Bryhn, on the other hand, has some serious requests, and they change daily. Lately, he is all for a compact sized excavator, a shark or a lobster, a bike "like Laura's", or a bow and arrow set (Bryhn has informed us he is "Legolas" from Lord of the Rings), which he says Grandma Tone is getting him.
Haylee is not telling me what we are getting the boys because I am the absolute worst secret keeper around. She's right. I cannot help myself. I am not sure what my tell is, but it's obvious. I need to practice my guile.
All Remy wants are a rock and a bone. He and Boden are bonding quickly. Bode likes to use him as a pillow and pet him (softly) with the hockey stick.

So the school year is winding down, though not fast enough. Haylee has had her hands full trying to get two horses tuned up while working insane hours, being a mom, and logisticizing (my word) around my schedule. My schedule with school and training and racing is enough to drive anyone insane. We can't wait for summer, but there's nothing like a good birthday...

Poisoned

I finished The Road last night...weeping. Uuugh. It left ash-colored, frozen mud in my chest. The main characters hit too close to home for me. The spectre of a world war has, for a very long time, hidden itself, sometimes obviously, in my mind. I cannot imagine needing to scrape out an existence in such a world. Feels like a little piece of me died last night. I posit that the cost to benefit of this book is too high. Then again, maybe I'm just a raw nerve.

The flip-side to life's coin, here in the northwest corner of CT is that spring is in full effect. It is seventy degrees outside, sunny, the grass is definitely getting greener, and the heavy, life-giving scent of tilled earth wafts through the classroom windows. I'll take it!

Our boys are getting their long awaited grass stains and elbow scrapes kindly donated by outdoor play. There is a hint of sunburn on Boden's head from time spent toddle-running at the playground, and Bryhn didn't protest at all about his nap. As I write this, I can smell the sandbox just outside the window. Makes me think of Michigan...

Crisis Averted

It looks like the drama has passed, at least for now. I had a good meeting with the headmaster, and if we don't get the house we are hoping for this year, we are PROMISED an even better one next year. Moving on...

All is well and good on the family front these days. The sun is making regular appearances, the mercury getting bolder in its ascent. The only darkness, right now, comes from a voluntary action of mine: reading The Road by Cormac McCarthy. Holy cow. Talk about a thing of terrible beauty. The book reads like a poem. The post-apocalyptic images are so stark, cold, and improbably real, I find myself dreaming (nightmaring) about them. I want to recommend this book, but I feel like I need to do so with a disclaimer; "You need to read this (at your own risk)!"

Now, when I read the paper in the morning, world issues, pertinent issues, real issues are magnified in very specific ways. I do not want McCarthy's vision to manifest itself, ever. The problem is that we are headed, I think, in that direction, and if we do not make very concerted, conscious, conscientious decisions about where we are going... well, let's just get it together.

Politics 101

Well, 'tis the season, I guess. The presidential race that is becoming more heated every day seems to be suffusing itself into our daily lives. I am an expert in neither politics nor astrology, but my uneducated guess is that there is some crazy alignment of the stars (in both the heavens and the rally stages), which is wreaking havoc in our otherwise cozy, insular worlds.

In our case here at Salisbury, we are getting a crash-course in "the ladder". The issue has to do with housing. At a boarding school, new or upgraded family housing is hotly sought after. Basically, seniority and/or job description combine to determine which family is where on the ladder for new housing. A couple weeks ago we were told that we were in line for a beautiful new house on campus. Then, a week or two later, we were told that we may have a couple families ahead of us in line, families who are new to campus.

Ummm....no. We don't think so. So now I am trying to get a meeting with the headmaster who has been doing a fantastic job of avoiding me. He set up our first get-together for Wednesday morning, then, that morning, realized he had another commitment. Since then, I have tried, unsuccessfully, to set up a meeting with him. I cannot get him to get back to me. So it goes.

I would describe my political stance as "anti-Machiavellian". I abhor subterfuge and trickery outside of novels. Honesty and integrity are very high on my list of desirable character traits, one reason being that I can see the situation for what it is and then react to it as best I can. Don't get me wrong, there have been times when I have been less than honest or displayed a lack of integrity. I also know the world is an imperfect place, so theory and philosophy often become moot.

Really, we're just frustrated that this has even become an issue. Now we are blue-printing "plan B". Unfortunately for us, our world here at school is not a democracy. Stay tuned!

She Got Us!

Ha, ha! One can only laugh at the subtlety of the ruse.
I am not talking about the joke Haylee played on me when she looked me earnestly in the eye and said, "We need to talk." In our house, those words tend to preface a conversation I wish I could fast-forward through. I sighed, and asked, "What is it?"
"Maybe we should have a drink first," she suggested. Oh, Lord.
..."Are you pregnant?!" She smiled and nodded very slightly.
I respond with wide eyes and a gaping maw, mostly because I had a procedure recently, which is intended to prevent these types of conversations. While many scattered visions raced through my head, and I tried to come up with something to say (in English) that might be appropriate, she quashed my panic with two beautiful, yet infuriating words: "April Fool's!" (I yammered something and had to sit down until my legs stopped shaking.)
No- the ruse to which I am referring is of a different mother, our Mother. I figured yesterday may have been the proverbial yanking of our collective chain, and it was. The bone-cutting knife that is the wind is back. The sun is exposing itself with a wry little grin, but only enough to tempt us to shed one layer too many of our clothes and bring back our snifflings and hackings for another week. We want, so badly, for spring to hit that we eagerly reach for what is not really there. Oh, man, She is good!
So now Haylee will ride her horse wrapped in what appears to be a Michelin Man suit. My cycling kids and I will force ourselves into a headwind for as long as we can before finally surfing the tailwind home toward heated, indoor spaces. At least my nose might get some sun. Bryhn and Boden will layer-up and roll around outside like a couple of tumbleweeds heeding the wind's command.
Nothing like springtime in New England. Ain't no joke!

Spring Hits. Will It Stay?

Today was sublime. You may think I speak in hyperbole, but no. The temperature reached sixty degrees! It may have been rainy, it may have been windy, but it was humid, and the wind that we did have was not a bone-slicing knife that induced frostbite in under four seconds; rather it was a wind you would expect on April Fool's Day, like a wet, sloppy piece of cotton smearing itself across your exposed skin: nice. So now the entire school has the giggles. The grass is threatening to turn green, and study hall is all but a joke. Yep. We welcomed spring on April 1st. We'll see if Mother Nature has played a nice one on us...

"The great thing about the human language is that it prevents us from sticking to the matter at hand." -Lewis Thomas (1913-1993)