State of Grace

Best Picture from the First 100 Days!

P020109PS-0339
Originally uploaded by The Official White House Photostream

Interrupting my bout of "Swine Cold" to present this gem from the Official White House Flickr Photostream. I don't see Sasha or Malia anywhere and that means only one thing - the adults in the White House have fun with or without the kids around. And, that's a healthy thing.

Now back to my hacking, coughing, sneezing and very loud nose blowing. (Ask anyone in my family, my nose blowing could also serve as a civil defense siren. "Was that a tsunami warning?" "No, Grace is just blowing her shnozz.")

Hubs Likes the Future Son-in-Law's New CD

Silversun Pickups, our family band aside from stepkiddo Tracy's band Twilight Sleep, just released their new CD, 'Swoon'. Silversun took a major step-up with this CD, adding orchestral movements, more enhanced vocals (with a lot more Nicki the bass player in the harmonies) and an overall bigger sound.

Here's lead guitar/singer Brian (aforementioned future SIL) and his band performing "Panic Switch", the first video from this impressive endeavor.  You will watch it, because these are our kids and we are pushy stage parents in the worst possible way:

Jack vs Kid

When Malcolm Babysits
Originally uploaded by GraceD

This is the sort of stuff I live for: Today, Malcolm, our Jack Russell Terrier, dragged our three year old friend Bubbles  across our bedroom floor.

Bubbles' mom was downstairs on the phone while this mighty tug-of-war action was happening. Thank God for that, because I was laughing like a madwoman at this spectacle of raw strength and silliness and took pictures with the wholly evil intent of posting scenes from this battle royale on the Internet.

What's that you say? You'll never come over with your kids again? Oh, you are so boring.

A Big Softy at Sixty

Hubs and his Kids
Originally uploaded by GraceD

My husband turns 60 later on this month but we gathered this past weekend to celebrate his birthday. Our experience with the Hubs is that he's almost always on a business trip on his big day, so we closed in on him early before he could get away to Mexico, Singapore, the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota or wherever else he's doing business when he really should scarfing down some major birthday cake action with us.

Hubs' five kids converged from near and far - flying in from Brooklyn and Los Angeles, driving up the coast from Santa Barbara, making the quick trip over the hill from Silicon Valley. We cooked a big Italian dinner, drank wine and toasted the Hubs/the Dad. The sweetest part was that instead of giving our good man gifts, the kids wrote him letters, a few of which were read aloud. One of these was the following list, put together by Hubs' beautiful and brilliant daughters:

60 Things we Know About Dad at 60

1. He wears a leather watch vest around the house
2. He lifts grocery bags so as not to miss any opportunity for exercise
3. He eats late night snacks like ice cream and cereal standing up in the kitchen
4. When he’s frustrated, he says, ”Dammit!”
5. He likes to take things apart and look at them under microscopes
6. He reads Watch Magazine
7. He loves the History Channel
8. He loves that Malcolm is aerodynamic
9. He pines for vintage pocket watches
10. He gets mad at flashy watches with diamonds all over them
11. He uses a snorkel and mask for ease of breathing in hotel pools
12. Wine gives him headaches sometimes
13. He likes to wear his red bow tie at the office for an idiosyncratic look
14. He also likes his red glasses for the above reason
15. Despite over 50 years of phenomenal guitar playing, he won’t play in public
16. He’s a smarty pants with patents and such and he doesn’t brag about it
17. He and Grace talk to Malcolm in strange voices
18. He’s turning into a big softy
19. He always says he doesn’t really like people but we suspect he does
20. He does his exercise at the nearby resort hotel gym
21. He always seems to be watering the yard
22. If not, he’s probably reading a science publication on the deck
23. He’s one of the few people whose slide shows you actually enjoy
24. He enjoys smoking his pipe
25. He loves Beyonce
26. He imparts wisdom, for example telling  (our friend) Jordan, “When you feel like you don’t want to edit yourself, that’s probably when you should.”
27. There is no where he’d rather be than at the house with his family
28. He thinks Bush should be publicly executed for crimes against humanity
29. He doesn’t take any b.s. from airline ticket agents
30. His secret wish is to retire and take science courses at UCSC
31. He likes to sail
32. He is one of the worlds few men who can pull off a Hawaii-5-0 mustache
33. Perfume gives him a headache
34. He hates New Yorkers
35. He still has a little New York in him after all these years in California
36. For example, telling a taxi driver to just “let him out” for not knowing how to get to the hospital
37. He loves the Sopranos
38. He misses Lola Falana's long elegant fingers                                                                                     
39. He yells, “I know these women!” when he watches 'Sex and the City'
40. He always answers the phone, “(ahhhhh) George Marcellino”
41. He responds to the following names: Popsy, Monkey, and Badoo
42. He’s the only person we know who got his dog laser eye surgery
43. He and Grace like to wear sporty gear for potential spontaneous activity
44. He eats pizza with a fork and knife
45. In recent years, he’s been taking on a Sean Connery essence
46. He also eats quesadillas with a fork and knife
47. He always says, “what the hell is this?”
48. He likes to call things by their proper names including:  CoCAH-CoLAH or DOHs OHsos
49. He once grew marijuana under the house and asked Jenn to water it
50. When drunk Irishmen look at his daughter on the tube, he turns into Tony Soprano                                         
51. He likes to talk about YOUR feelings
52. He calls us all “baby” because it’s easier than mixing up all of our names
53. As an adult, he played on a softball team called,”The Inner Kids”
54. His favorite snack is a block of cheese with cashews
55. He’s extremely punctual but he’s trying to be relaxed
56. He always has his suitcase packed a week before he leaves for a trip
57. He hates matching his socks ("they all look the same!")
58. He’s a late developer in the dog lover community
59. Yesterday, he couldn’t find his cookie and realized it had been flattened (against his wallet) for 4 hours in his pants pocket
60. His daughters adore him

Back online! And, a little WoolfCamp drama.

Holy cow moly, our neck of the woods - Santa Cruz county, California - was plunged back into the late 1800s when some asshat cut through the fiberoptic cable lines that pours the internet into our computers. Cell phones and land lines were down as well. We were Amish for a day, and, truth be told, it wasn't bad at all. I got some extreme gardening accomplished and potted my tomato seedlings. I was just about to plow a field for a wheat crop, but then the internet flowed back into our monitors and we were back in the 21st century.

Speaking of drama, some of you have kindly inquired about a picture of our dog-man Malcolm that I posted on Flickr. Here it is and doesn't he look like a novitiate at a convent? Sorta in the Audrey Hepburn way in "A Nun's Story"? Anyway, every gathering has an incident and this is what happened:

Molly the Dog, a Bichon Frise/Poodle mix, was one of our WoolfCampers. A very cute and friendly little lady dog, but she had it in for Malcolm the Dog. She hated him on sight and Malcolm hated her back. They fought every time they were within 3 feet of one another. We would stop the fighting and pull them away to their corners, but I thought at one point they should just duke it out. So, I let them have at it, then separated them when I realize it was going nowhere.

I picked up Malcolm and saw on the floor - BLOOD. DROPS OF BLOOD. Both Molly's human Jane and I checked our respective dogs, both looked okay, maybe the blood was from a little cut, all's good. I proceeded to take Malcolm's mind off the smackdown by playing a little ball with him.

When Malcolm came running back with the ball after fetching the first throw, HE WAS SPATTERED IN BLOOD. I gathered him up, grabbed his leash and quietly and quickly left WoolfCamp for the vet's office.

I have never driven so fast in my life. I'm still shocked at how fast and, actually, how skillful I was at the wheel.

I pushed through the doors of the vet's clinic with my bloody pup. Our vet, a very nice no-nonsense sort, happened to be at the reception counter. She sized up the situation in an instant and took Malcolm from my arms and rushed him to the back.

I sat down on a padded bench and cried. A vet tech and the receptionist, cute young women with tats and piercings, rushed to my side and comforted me in the sweetest possible way. I let them pat my back and tell me stories of when their pets got into fights.

The doctor came out while her assistants were cleaning up Malcolm. She told me that the pointy tip of our little guy's right ear was bitten off. It looks okay from a distance, but up close, it's pretty gnarly.

When Malcolm emerged from the back of the vet's clinic, his little head was wrapped up in this hoodie bandage. He looks kinda sad-cute, don't you think?

Malcolm was given a hero's welcome upon his return to the house. Molly the Dog was still mad and Jane had to take her home.

I know. Crazy. Still, WoolfCamp was big fun, Malcolm got a lot of sympathy but I really didn't want Jane to go home (shout out to Jane - thanks for the Get Well card, dollin!)

The Talking Year

 

I have no idea whether the Google execs clicked to my kids' bands MySpace pages as per the previous post, but I can say that my time on their panel of moms who wander around the Information Super Highway marked my entry into my Talking Year.

Not that I "talked" on this panel; I more or less stood on my chair and hollered at a genteel audience comprised of Kelloggs-as-in-Corn-Flakes marketing gurus who were visiting Google. Kelloggs wanted to know how us wandering moms - aka "Digital Moms", a term that smells demographic to me and makes my friend Brian wonder who might be the "Analog Moms" - use the web as consumers. My beloved longtime "Digital Mom" friends Beth Blecherman, Jill Asher, Mindy Roberts and fabulous new friend Megan Calhoun were eloquently professional on the panel, dazzling all with descriptions of "reader engagement" and other very cool terms that both intimidated and fascinated me.

I, on the other hand, more or less waved my crutch at these very nice Google/Kelloggs marketers and bellowed,

"You gotta get on Twitter!"
"You could do that on Twitter!"
"I can't believe you're not on Twitter!"
"Holy crap, would you get on Twitter!" 

Oh, I didn't cuss, really. Anyway,  I'm pretty sure the crazy crutch waving drove my point home.

This is how I began my Talking Year, 2009, shouting at the product teams of Google and Kelloggs.  I would not have done this, much less accept such an invitation to sit on a panel last year, my Silent Year. The Talking/Silent years alternate, odd years I blab, even years I shut the hell up and listen.

I was in my mid 30s when I started this practice. At the time, I was a regular at a local Zen Buddhist group in Silicon Valley where I sat in meditation, attended workshops and silent meditation retreats. I will always be grateful for whatever forces led me to these Zennies, as I fondly call these Buddhists. I learned what it meant to be truly present, right smack dab in the moment and that the present moment is all we have. Tough stuff, staying in the present moment. It was toughest during meditation when I battled monkey-mind who insisted on going through shopping and to-do lists as well as asking the person next to her if meditation is almost over.

"SHUT UP!" yelled the part of me who wanted quiet, no chatting and certainly no grocery lists.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF!" monkey-mind would shoot back, who really wanted to get up from the meditation pillow, add low-fat yogurt to the list in her purse and go over to talk with her friends.

"Everyone calm down and breathe." said my inner Zennie softly with compassion and non-judgment.

It was a solid year of brutal back and forth with Zennie calmly but firmly moderating the war between monkey-mind talker and the shut the fuck-up quiet one. Then, I had a revelation during meditation:

Clearly, monkey mind had a lot to say.

And, I had someone in me who needed silence.

Hey! I'll give them a year each!

Thus began my practice of having a Talking Year and a Silent Year.

Last year I was silent with intention and in how things worked out. I went into intense therapy which demanded deep introspection.  I was less interested in participating in conversation, both online and off. This blog was nearly dead. I would spend weeks without Twittering and why would I want to invade the youth turf of Facebook? I didn't see too many people and when I did, it would be sweet but awkward, like the time I had a picnic with wonderful Glennia. We ate baguette sandwiches on the Stanford Campus in the shadow of Rodin's Gates of Hell sculpture. Glennia was and is always articulate but I didn't say much and felt bashful while my eyes involuntarily wandered over to hell's gates with its scenarios of sinners getting chased down by devils while others were thrown into bonfires.  Clearly this was a signal to inform me I was toying with being social in my Silent Year, and I had hell to pay.  I was quiet in a somber, funereal way for days afterwards.

This year, an odd year, I have been babbling happily since the first of January.  I'm rearing to get the blog going, had a false start, but I now feel like I'm in the swing of things.  I accepted the invitation to talk to Google and I will be doing that again later this month with their guests from the Nestle Corporation (the nice Kelloggs folks provided Rice Krispies swag, so I'm hoping for Nestles chocolate swag).

I really upped the ante in talking by having another WoolfCamp gathering at the house this past weekend.  If you're going to host 30 people at your house, you're going to do some talking.  WoolfCamp, a happy gathering of bloggers and non-bloggers who want to be together in real life, is a talking bonaza.  We get up and talk as teachers, talk to learn, talk in sharing and talk with others in rich fellowship. 

It was a blast! I'd like to think others thought so, too.  Perhaps they did, because folks in these pics are looking pleased with things:

We talked and dined.

  

   

We talked and blogged and Twittered.

 
  
 
 
 





  

We talked in BarCamp style sessions.

 



 

 
 

  

We talked while the kids hung out.

   

    

  

Clearly there's much to talk about WoolfCamp, and I will leave that to the next post which will be way sooner than two weeks if not two months.

In the meantime, talk to me! Say hi and I'll say hi back! I thank you in advance for helping me out in this, My Talking Year.