At Home on Thanksgiving
by Rob
We'll be home today for Thanksgiving. I never mind when this holiday is simple. Simple, of course, is relative. As I type, Kim's in the kitchen preparing the fruit salad. It's no simple recipe and I expect that she'll be at this for an hour or more. It's a tradition, and Kim doesn't like to celebrate without it. Abbie's become accustomed to it too, so I'm not sure Kim could skip making it without Abbie giving her grief.
But like I said, our day will be simple. Abbie's not up yet. I'm blogging. Nate's online watching 30 Rock. The Macy's Parade is on TV. We'll spend the day slowly preparing the meal, and expect to sit down to eat at about 4:00. In the early evening, we may go to the Barnes' to play games and have some (more) dessert.
We also don't have a lot planned for the next few days. This is not a problem. The biggest event will certainly be the replacement of our upstairs windows on Saturday. It sounds scarier than it is... I hope.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Saturday, September 6, 2008
And on Saturday
by Rob
If Saturday's are going to be this busy, at least the activities and the schedule will be predictable.
Nate auditioned for the Capital District Youth Choral this morning. CDYC, as it's usually referred to around here, has been around for about 25 years now. The founder and director, Diane Warner, is easily one of the most respected choral experts in this region. Years ago, after observing her teaching as part of an assignment for one of my graduate classes, I contacted her and requested more opportunities to observe her. She was very kind and gladly allowed me to watch her work with several choral groups at Schenectady High School. Hers are not your average high school choirs.
I have known about CDYC since that time, but in the balance of things, it just has not seemed that we could handle the commitment required for one of our kids to be in this group. The schedule requires a weekly Saturday morning rehearsal and two concerts each semester. Singers are admitted only after an audition. There is a "tuition fee" each semester, in addition to the cost of the music, and the clothing, and the tickets for concerts. I don't feel that the time and financial cost are unreasonable considering the level of the group; however, it's not something to enter into lightly.
But now that Nate is at Tech Valley High School, we have to find ways to provide for his music education and experiences. I want to be sure that he has a solid choral experience, and so CDYC has suddenly become an "obvious choice."
We were told that Nate's audition would be at 9:30, and that we would know the results of the audition right away. If he was granted admission into the group, he was expected to go directly from the audition into the rehearsal that was starting at the same time. When we were escorted to the audition room, I was told that I was allowed to remain with him, or I could wait outside. He told me to leave. I was neither hurt, nor surprised.
When he emerged from the room about 7 minutes later, he was beaming. In his hand was a slip of paper that he was joyfully waving about, "I'm in!" he said adding, "And I get to sing alto!" I love so many things about Nate, and this response demonstrates what I consider to be one of his finest qualities. He is not bothered by, and in fact can appreciate, some things that would threaten other boys. All last year at Schalmont he complained about how impossible it was to sing the "baritone" parts that he was assigned. He asked to sing with the altos and was flatly denied the opportunity by his director who told him, "You don't want to sing with all the girls!" (Sigh). Clearly, this is a different opportunity. When I asked what comments he'd received from the gentleman who conducted the audition, Nate said, "He wrote one word on my audition form, 'terrific!'"
When Nate came out of the rehearsal an hour and a half later, he was equally joyful. He loved singing with a group of kids who want to work. He loved Mrs. Warner's style and pace for leading the group. He loved the music.
At this point, the schedule doesn't look like it will overwhelm us. His first concert, on the afternoon of October 5, will take place during a youth group event. He'll have to miss it. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't complain for long. After that event, the next concert will take place on the weekend of December 6 and 7. The group will perform 3 concerts with the Albany Symphony Orchestra at the Palace Theatre in Albany that weekend. When I told Nate, it was like he'd hit the big time.
I guess if he can't be in a chorus at school, this will do.
This afternoon, Abbie had her first soccer game of the season. Hannah rained on the entire game, but it didn't seem to affect the play very much. Her coach, Bart, is the same as her first two years, although, many of the girls who played during the last two seasons are not on the team this year. Abbie's experience is showing now, and she played almost the entire game. It's also noticeable to see how much more confident she is now. She sticks to opponents like a mosquito, and she seems to know just where to put herself in order to shut down the other players. Her team didn't win this afternoon, which is a first, but she didn't seem affected by the loss. She did try to analyze the situation after the game though, and she came to the conclusion that the experience level of the other team was much greater than her own.
Last evening was her first "Sabre City." This is an event that takes place each month at the middle school. Each year, the sixth graders have their own Sabre City at the end of this first week of school; later this month, all 6,7 and 8th graders will be permitted to attend. The two hour event takes place on the first floor of the middle school. There's open basketball in one half of the gym and a dance in the other. Down the hall, at the cafeteria, there's food and ping-pong and air hockey tables.
I made sure to get my name on the list of chaperons for last night's event. I wanted to be sure to be there so that I would be able to have a first hand account of how it is being run. Even though we got a sense of things when we chaperoned several times when Nate was in sixth grade, we have heard that structure can change significantly from year to year. I feel confident that this year's parent planners are taking the rules and the supervision duties pretty seriously.
Abbie was funny about me chaperoning. When I first announced that I would be there, she certainly was not celebratory, but she didn't waste any time complaining about it either. But yesterday afternoon, as I picked her up from the babysitter, she started to explain to me how things needed to go for the evening. And she started with my clothing. "You are not wearing that." Now I'll admit that I don't belong in any fashion magazines, but my generic sort of work outfit, khaki pants, a solid colored short sleeve shirt, and a necktie, isn't either remarkably bland or scene-stealing. Nonetheless, she was insistent, and she announced that she would be picking out my clothing instead.
Now I struggled to decide what to do about this; after all, what kind of man allows his children to order him about, telling him what he can and cannot wear? On the other hand, did I need to be so much in control of things that I couldn't allow her to own this event, even if that meant allowing her a bit too much control? I finally relented, sort of, allowing her to determine my pants (jeans) while I selected my own t-shirt (she had suggested two others that I didn't want to wear). In the end, part of my submission came from the realization that we are always telling her what she can wear and what she cannot. Ultimately, I don't want her to think that she has equal say in matters; however, I'm not above modeling cooperative behavior.
Throughout the evening she vacillated between calling me, "Daddy," and pretending that she didn't know me. I was, at the very least, a convenient source for snack money and a place to leave her sweatshirt.
The whole affair was tolerable, but it was one of those parent things that makes you feel old and old-fashioned. The kids were absolutely nuts. If I had a dollar for every, "walk, please!" I uttered, we'd be able make an extra car payment. Some of those kids went back and forth between the gym and the cafeteria all night long. By 9:00, they were dripping with sweat, and had probably logged a couple of miles.
I found the music insufferable. And who, in their right mind, thinks that it's okay for sixth grade kids to be singing and dancing to "I Kissed a Girl"?
I also found myself a bit more tuned into the business of sixth grade girls. I have confidence that most of them will ultimately be alright, but I wouldn't want to walk in their flip-flops, not for anything. Fortunately, if any of them have taken notice of boys, they weren't willing to step out of their little, giggling circles of friends to do anything about it.
And the boys were even more oblivious. Watching their silly, rough and tumble sort of interactions reminded me of Nate's first Sabre City. The realization that that event took place three years ago was suddenly and surprisingly emotional for me. How did we pass completely through middle school so quickly? And the little boy of that time is changing so quickly that, except for standing in that gym, remembering him and his friends, I had all but lost sight of him. And worse for me now, how quickly will this new stage pass by? I realize that many people might think that I'm silly for feeling this way, but I'd simply be lying if I denied that this is what I'm experiencing.
This is a exceptional fall for our family. We didn't just start school again; both kids have entered a significant new phase of their lives. And so, Kim and I feel as though we have too. I'm happy to report that both kids have had a very positive first couple days at school. Nate is thrilled about Tech Valley. On Thursday night he was buzzing about his first day, and when he went to bed he told me, " I don't know what we're going to do tomorrow, but I just can't wait to get there." Abbie's response wasn't as enthusiastic, but it has also been very positive.
As I finish for now, I wonder how often I'll get to jot things down this year. It's hard to blog all of the time, but considering how I'm feeling about the changing lives of our kids, it seems more important now than ever.
by Rob
If Saturday's are going to be this busy, at least the activities and the schedule will be predictable.
Nate auditioned for the Capital District Youth Choral this morning. CDYC, as it's usually referred to around here, has been around for about 25 years now. The founder and director, Diane Warner, is easily one of the most respected choral experts in this region. Years ago, after observing her teaching as part of an assignment for one of my graduate classes, I contacted her and requested more opportunities to observe her. She was very kind and gladly allowed me to watch her work with several choral groups at Schenectady High School. Hers are not your average high school choirs.
I have known about CDYC since that time, but in the balance of things, it just has not seemed that we could handle the commitment required for one of our kids to be in this group. The schedule requires a weekly Saturday morning rehearsal and two concerts each semester. Singers are admitted only after an audition. There is a "tuition fee" each semester, in addition to the cost of the music, and the clothing, and the tickets for concerts. I don't feel that the time and financial cost are unreasonable considering the level of the group; however, it's not something to enter into lightly.
But now that Nate is at Tech Valley High School, we have to find ways to provide for his music education and experiences. I want to be sure that he has a solid choral experience, and so CDYC has suddenly become an "obvious choice."
We were told that Nate's audition would be at 9:30, and that we would know the results of the audition right away. If he was granted admission into the group, he was expected to go directly from the audition into the rehearsal that was starting at the same time. When we were escorted to the audition room, I was told that I was allowed to remain with him, or I could wait outside. He told me to leave. I was neither hurt, nor surprised.
When he emerged from the room about 7 minutes later, he was beaming. In his hand was a slip of paper that he was joyfully waving about, "I'm in!" he said adding, "And I get to sing alto!" I love so many things about Nate, and this response demonstrates what I consider to be one of his finest qualities. He is not bothered by, and in fact can appreciate, some things that would threaten other boys. All last year at Schalmont he complained about how impossible it was to sing the "baritone" parts that he was assigned. He asked to sing with the altos and was flatly denied the opportunity by his director who told him, "You don't want to sing with all the girls!" (Sigh). Clearly, this is a different opportunity. When I asked what comments he'd received from the gentleman who conducted the audition, Nate said, "He wrote one word on my audition form, 'terrific!'"
When Nate came out of the rehearsal an hour and a half later, he was equally joyful. He loved singing with a group of kids who want to work. He loved Mrs. Warner's style and pace for leading the group. He loved the music.
At this point, the schedule doesn't look like it will overwhelm us. His first concert, on the afternoon of October 5, will take place during a youth group event. He'll have to miss it. He wasn't happy about it, but he didn't complain for long. After that event, the next concert will take place on the weekend of December 6 and 7. The group will perform 3 concerts with the Albany Symphony Orchestra at the Palace Theatre in Albany that weekend. When I told Nate, it was like he'd hit the big time.
I guess if he can't be in a chorus at school, this will do.
This afternoon, Abbie had her first soccer game of the season. Hannah rained on the entire game, but it didn't seem to affect the play very much. Her coach, Bart, is the same as her first two years, although, many of the girls who played during the last two seasons are not on the team this year. Abbie's experience is showing now, and she played almost the entire game. It's also noticeable to see how much more confident she is now. She sticks to opponents like a mosquito, and she seems to know just where to put herself in order to shut down the other players. Her team didn't win this afternoon, which is a first, but she didn't seem affected by the loss. She did try to analyze the situation after the game though, and she came to the conclusion that the experience level of the other team was much greater than her own.
Last evening was her first "Sabre City." This is an event that takes place each month at the middle school. Each year, the sixth graders have their own Sabre City at the end of this first week of school; later this month, all 6,7 and 8th graders will be permitted to attend. The two hour event takes place on the first floor of the middle school. There's open basketball in one half of the gym and a dance in the other. Down the hall, at the cafeteria, there's food and ping-pong and air hockey tables.
I made sure to get my name on the list of chaperons for last night's event. I wanted to be sure to be there so that I would be able to have a first hand account of how it is being run. Even though we got a sense of things when we chaperoned several times when Nate was in sixth grade, we have heard that structure can change significantly from year to year. I feel confident that this year's parent planners are taking the rules and the supervision duties pretty seriously.
Abbie was funny about me chaperoning. When I first announced that I would be there, she certainly was not celebratory, but she didn't waste any time complaining about it either. But yesterday afternoon, as I picked her up from the babysitter, she started to explain to me how things needed to go for the evening. And she started with my clothing. "You are not wearing that." Now I'll admit that I don't belong in any fashion magazines, but my generic sort of work outfit, khaki pants, a solid colored short sleeve shirt, and a necktie, isn't either remarkably bland or scene-stealing. Nonetheless, she was insistent, and she announced that she would be picking out my clothing instead.
Now I struggled to decide what to do about this; after all, what kind of man allows his children to order him about, telling him what he can and cannot wear? On the other hand, did I need to be so much in control of things that I couldn't allow her to own this event, even if that meant allowing her a bit too much control? I finally relented, sort of, allowing her to determine my pants (jeans) while I selected my own t-shirt (she had suggested two others that I didn't want to wear). In the end, part of my submission came from the realization that we are always telling her what she can wear and what she cannot. Ultimately, I don't want her to think that she has equal say in matters; however, I'm not above modeling cooperative behavior.
Throughout the evening she vacillated between calling me, "Daddy," and pretending that she didn't know me. I was, at the very least, a convenient source for snack money and a place to leave her sweatshirt.
The whole affair was tolerable, but it was one of those parent things that makes you feel old and old-fashioned. The kids were absolutely nuts. If I had a dollar for every, "walk, please!" I uttered, we'd be able make an extra car payment. Some of those kids went back and forth between the gym and the cafeteria all night long. By 9:00, they were dripping with sweat, and had probably logged a couple of miles.
I found the music insufferable. And who, in their right mind, thinks that it's okay for sixth grade kids to be singing and dancing to "I Kissed a Girl"?
I also found myself a bit more tuned into the business of sixth grade girls. I have confidence that most of them will ultimately be alright, but I wouldn't want to walk in their flip-flops, not for anything. Fortunately, if any of them have taken notice of boys, they weren't willing to step out of their little, giggling circles of friends to do anything about it.
And the boys were even more oblivious. Watching their silly, rough and tumble sort of interactions reminded me of Nate's first Sabre City. The realization that that event took place three years ago was suddenly and surprisingly emotional for me. How did we pass completely through middle school so quickly? And the little boy of that time is changing so quickly that, except for standing in that gym, remembering him and his friends, I had all but lost sight of him. And worse for me now, how quickly will this new stage pass by? I realize that many people might think that I'm silly for feeling this way, but I'd simply be lying if I denied that this is what I'm experiencing.
This is a exceptional fall for our family. We didn't just start school again; both kids have entered a significant new phase of their lives. And so, Kim and I feel as though we have too. I'm happy to report that both kids have had a very positive first couple days at school. Nate is thrilled about Tech Valley. On Thursday night he was buzzing about his first day, and when he went to bed he told me, " I don't know what we're going to do tomorrow, but I just can't wait to get there." Abbie's response wasn't as enthusiastic, but it has also been very positive.
As I finish for now, I wonder how often I'll get to jot things down this year. It's hard to blog all of the time, but considering how I'm feeling about the changing lives of our kids, it seems more important now than ever.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Nathan Rides the Short Bus by Rob
This morning we all were awake by 5:30. That may never happen again. We are a cocktail of anticipation and anxiety, and although I wouldn't call the mood "volatile," one or more of us has been known to snap for a moment. But it's exciting to be starting a new year, and even more so, this year.
Our first day of school pictures took place at 6:25. Nate's bus left at 6:40, which was five minutes later than we were told. He expects to be at school a little before 8:00 AM.
This evening will be homework, stories, soccer practice and pasta (the sauce is already in the crock pot).
Off we go...
Friday, August 22, 2008
Morning by Morningby Rob
Where does it go? It's such a cliche, I know, but it's now the final morning on the final day, and I can hardly understand how two weeks have passed so quickly. It's all been great, a good break from hussle-'n'-bussle, enjoyable and relaxing, but the addition of the great weather during the last few days has made it seems incredibly pleasant; dare I say, "perfect?" Add to this, that Mom and Dad are here now, and it's even better.
As usual, my blogging dropped off. Not a surprise really (just wait 'til we get home), but I want to be sure to jot a few things down. Just this morning, I looked back on some of the entries from last August and it was helpful to see some of the details that I have forgotten. I have no idea how long these notes can be saved in cyberland, but it's my hope that these entries will be useful and enjoyable for the kids to read years from now.
Daddy did this for you two, okay?
On Sunday, Nate and I took our bikes out and traveled over to the Owls Head Lighthouse. I was more interested in the activity than the location, since the weather was beautiful and it seemed like a waste to sit around here for the whole day. I like visiting there each year, and since it's an easy bike ride, it was a good plan. Turns out it was an especially well timed plan too, because the light house was open and we got to go inside. I have no idea what the schedule is for that, but in all of the years that we have been coming here, it's the first time that we've been able to go inside of it. The man who was monitoring things was wearing a shirt that had the name of some lighthouse preservation society on it. 
The building itself is not really tall, but because of it's placement high on the rocks it's easy to see in every direction.
Abbie has been dog sitting this week. Paul and Donna have gone to visit their son in Bar Harbor this week. Last week, as they watched Abbie interacting with Toby, Paul got the idea that a "win/win" scenario was forming. He needed a dog sitter and he figured out that Abbie would love having the job. So Abbie has been getting out of bed before 8:00 each morning and heading over to their house. She takes care of the obvious things, food and water, but also takes Toby for a walk. She also checks on the chickens, and if there's an egg (there has been one each morning), she brings it back to our cottage. 
We also have been taking Toby with us when we've headed to the beach. Yesterday we went back to the trail head for Ragged Mountain and took another hike. This time we crossed the road and headed up East Peak, which may not be the actual name of the hill, but that's how it's labeled on the map. It was a much shorter hike, and the view at the top is more obstructed than Ragged Mountain. Nonetheless, the sky was so clear that the view was more than worth the trip. It was also interesting to be able to look back at Ragged Mountain and see where we had hiked last week. Oh another difference, far less berries on this trail. That's wasn't a problem, because we wouldn't have picked any more anyway. They were good while they lasted, but after blueberry pancakes, two batches of blueberry muffins, and a (really good) blueberry pie, I think that we're about blueberried out for awhile.Nate's been working on homework this week. He had planned to work on things while we were here, and he didn't really do much of his work last week, so he's been putting in a daily session this week. I'm sure that he's not happy about doing it, but I doubt that it's ruined his week. When we get home, the rest of us will have to join him in the "work-mode." I have painting to finish and we have a slew of appointments and things during the week. It all starts with a doctor appointment for Abbie on Monday morning. Grrr...
We continue to be able to connect with people that we have met other years. On Monday, we ran into Harrison and his family. Nate and Harrison played together on the beach at Birch Point years ago, so we got acquainted with his parents, Jamie and Margie. They live in Connecticut and Jamie works as an antique and art appraiser. He helps folks get some really high-end stuff to auctions at places like Sotheby's. We seem to run into them every August at this point, and although Nate and Harrison seem less compatible right now, I think that they get a kick out of reconnecting each year. We were at Crescent Beach when we met up with them this time. The boys headed down to the water to fool around; I stood near the parking area and talked to Jamie. He's an interesting man, very intelligent and forthright with his ideas. I'm sure that we'd never end up hanging out with each other, but I find it interesting to talk with him. I usually end up with a sense that he and I are from different worlds.
As our conversation was winding down, another acquaintance from year's past spotted us and came over to say hello. Erin is a police officer from Albany. He and his wife, Stephanie, have been coming here for several years now. They missed last summer, because the cottage that they had been renting was torn down and a new cottage was being built. I remember that two years ago they were aware that the old cottage was about to go. They also were pretty sure that the new building would not be available for rent. As it turns out, the family that owns the place had planned to be away this week, and although they are not actively trying to rent the new house, they offered it to Erin and Stephanie for the week. Their boys, Ryan and Jack, are younger than our kids, so they don't really play together. It was great to see them again, and yesterday we spent some time talking with them while we were hanging out on the beach. We have never spent any time with them at home, but I can imagine that we could. It's kind of funny that we know them, but have only ever seen them here; Stephanie's office is only about 1.5 miles from our house.
Dad has been picking up realty fliers throughout the week. He made a comment yesterday that he thinks that there are more places for sale this year than other years. I hadn't consider that, but I'm inclined to agree. I actually called a realtor yesterday about one of the listings; it's a couple of acres of land just down the road from where we rent. The listing said that it had 50+/- of waterfront, but it turns out that it's "rights" not actual waterfront. Instead of being on the water, it's sort of in the water; most of it is swampy and could not be used for building anything. There is a spot for a house, but there wouldn't be any view of the water... except maybe the pond. All this could be ours for just $125,000.00. So imagine what a decent parcel costs.
Why is it that what you dream about can be such a pleasant thing, but the experience of dreaming about it ends up feeling so unsatisfying?
Last night was one of the warmest and clearest that I can remember. Abbie and I decided to brave the bugs and sit out on the porch. I lit up our "Off Lantern," and we sat together on the steps of the porch. I played the guitar a little bit while she read by flashlight. After awhile I began to notice the stars, and before long, we were walking around in the yard together, holding hands, whispering to each other, and gazing up at the sky. It was so clear that we could see the bands of the Milky Way. Amazing. Abbie commented that she would like to see the Big Dipper, and when we turned around to walk back to the porch, there it was all at once, beautifully clear above the cottages. She was so excited.
Another detail that captured our attention remains a bit of a mystery. To the southwest, above the tree line we could see three stars... or were they all stars? They kept their relationship to each other, so I'm sure that none was a satellite or a plane, but the center light, just slightly above the line between the outer ones was twinkling. Actually "twinkling" doesn't really fit because this thing was so active that it was almost flashing. And to our eyes it seemed to be changing color constantly. We looked at it through binoculars and the display of color was even more impressive. But what was it? It was no bigger than the other stars in the sky, and although we watched for the better part of 30 minutes, it didn't move. I'm not sure how to begin to find out what it was, but I intend to try. Maybe, if this evening is as clear, we'll get to see it again.
I woke up this morning at about 5:45, which is a bit earlier than normal. I could tell that the sky was still clear, so I decided that it was worth getting up, on the chance that I'd see the sun rising. I was right; it was worth it. Based on the cold and foggy mornings of last week, I would have guessed that this type of a morning was out of season, but we're enjoying another warm, clear and sunny morning on the porch with our coffee.
Abbie has been teaching us the art of self-portrait photography. These are a couple of photos that Kim and I took this morning. We took dozens, and at one point we were laughing so much that I was afraid we would wake up other people. Okay, we're not really very sophisticated, but we have fun.Today, there are a few things that are planned; we'll head to the beach this morning while the tide is out, Toby will need to be cared for this morning and this evening, and we will go out to dinner tonight at Cafe Miranda. The restaurant is a bit of an "adventurous" choice, but we believe that the payoff will be worth the risk; the food is unusual but very, very good. We hope that Mom and Dad will agree.
But as far as the day's events go, there is also the unspoken agenda... and yes, I'm going to say it now: packing and cleaning. Between all of that, and trying to read a few more pages in our books, or play a few more rounds of Bananagrams, the day is looking pretty full.
No complaints.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
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