Play Ball

So, I watched that game that was played yesterday.
Go Packers!
Half of my friends love football, and follow it, and get it, and know a tight end from an end zone. Half of my friends could not care less, and proudly proclaim that yesterday they were busy with anything other than American football.

I am caught in the middle, and I was wondering why this is... why do I like seeing one or two games a year? Why do I understand it well enough to get a thrill over an interception, to feel excited over a great pass, a great catch, a good brat?

My brothers and I used to play touch football, in the street, in empty lots, at the park, and we could play with three, or five or eight kids... and there was always room for one more. All we needed was the ball and a clear space. We also played soccer, which is the real fúbol, of course. We often played Bill Ball, our own baseball game, where the rules were loosely based on Bill's diplomatic and fair sense of play... Rule Number One: no one can be bad at Bill Ball.

I loved these games, maybe especially football. Later in middle school and high school my science-math-gym teacher had us on the field playing all kinds of games, and she really helped my sporting skills. I like that when we played football each play was a new opportunity to turn the game around, and that each play gave every player a chance to be part of the action. Defend. Run. Block. Run. And catch? Wow, catching a football, running ahead of your opponents... it's a great feeling. Soccer is great too. Baseball? Eh... too slow, too little going on most of the time, for most of the players. Bill Ball? Bill Ball rocks!

I will never follow teams, or schedule my days around any sporting season. I do not have to watch the SuperBowl, the hype is a turn-off, and so is the single-minded focus, money, and attention football receives, pro and high school... My heart and big cheers still belong to the sports of the mind! But still... it was a good game, and it was fun to watch. In fact it was a better game than the commercials, which is not usual. Maybe it was a better game because Holly grilled brats, and we were cheering for the team from the greatest place in the world! Maybe it was just fun to see other people having fun with something they love, and remembering my own love of running to the end zone with an intercepted ball!

It's only a game.

Dirt Heals

A few years ago Geoff sent me an article about the actual healing properties found in the garden... in the dirt. I love it when science and my beliefs harmonize.

Maria and I went to the garden center. We invited Max. He was very interested in planting seeds in his garden bed, but that was last week. This week he is not feeling the same way about things, which is understandable. He is hurting, and sad. He loves Ferris, his furry friend. I am not saying retail therapy is the answer to grief and longing, but I know that time in the light, time away from the usual, daily patterns, and creating an opportunity for getting dirty... those are a very good answer to sadness.


We came home with new flowers, like pansies and poppies. We bought more soil, and a special dark pencil for our garden markers. We chose seeds for our cold season... peas, cucumber, lettuce and spinach. We walked around admiring the trees and blooms, the prettyness of a winter day in Southern California.

I even managed to deliberately abandon all of the burdensome supposed to's that plague me when I am aware that I am not excelling on all fronts feeling like shiaving cream. While there may be "important" things being neglected, I gotta believe working in the garden is a huge improvement over FB gazing.

We got home and made the able-bodied men unload our wagon. After that I sort of reverted back to feeling the deep funk. I expect to see him. I look for him and call him... Ferris! Ferris, kitty-kitty! I even open doors, enter quiet rooms and think he could have been locked in here. This may be a place we forgot to look... Fortunately, something compelled me to rise from my descent, and get back outdoors.

Maria and I brought Sanka out of her house and set her in a raised bed. She was almost as melancholy and homebodied as me... she would not hop out of her box. But when I stuck some celery in the dirt, she could not resist. The rest of her afternoon was spent in happy digging, and contented nibbling.


So often I feel really inadequate, very ineffective. I do. But reflecting on yesterday, I realize that a lot got done. We planted nasturtiums around the fruit trees. We put in rosemary and geraniums along the driveway. We planted a barrel with peas and violas, then weeded all around the barrels. We brought the ratty-rats out and gave their home a thorough scrubbing, then played with them in the sunlight. We scrubbed the watering and grain feeders for the chicas. We planted a second barrel with the poppies and pansies. And more... including a haircut for Maria.


She has been asking for a haircut, at home, for some time. I finally got a new pair of shears, and we sat outside, dropping about three-four inches from the bottom. She is very happy with the results.

We were so dirty. Even with her new gloves, Maria managed to get good and grubby. And it felt great. We still have seeds to plant, and the chicas coop could stand to be raked out and freshened. The sky is blue. It is, no doubt, warmer out there than it is in the house... I think we should enjoy another round of therapy. And I plan on dragging Max out there with us, because if he doesn't believe me, I know he will trust the science: dirt heals.

Not Supposed To

I am not supposed to sit, idly, like a stump.
I am not supposed to lose my keys, my crochet hook, my nerve, my heart.
I am not supposed to lose sight of the good and the beautiful, the nearly endless mercies.
I am not supposed to neglect... anything, or anyone.
I should not be obtuse, or evasive, maudlin, melancholy, or bitter.
I cannot turn my back, or let go... but I would like to. Right now, I would like to.


I think Chango knows where Ferris is. What happened. Chango has not left the house. Not to wander. Not to part with us. I think he knows what happened.

I think if Ferris returned, because sometimes these miracles happen, I think I would still be in over my head, but it would feel so good to see him, and enjoy all of the many stinky-pinky things he did.

Gung Hey Fat Choy!

Hey, Sanka!
Sanka, have you heard?


Happy Lunar New Year, pretty bunny.
And did you know, this is the year of the rabbit? The Golden Rabbit.


Of course you know.

What a great year to be a bunny. What a great year for all of our family, and yours. "According to Chinese tradition, the Rabbit brings a year in which you can catch your breath and calm your nerves. It is a time for negotiation. Don't try to force issues, because if you do you will ultimately fail. To gain the greatest benefits from this time, focus on home, family, security, diplomacy, and your relationships with women and children. Make it a goal to create a safe, peaceful lifestyle, so you will be able to calmly deal with any problem that may arise."

Oh, Sanka... this sounds wonderful.

The Wise Whistle-Pig Says...

Winter is not the only season we are immersed in. It also happens to be Build Season! If you are on a FIRST Robotics team, then you know it means that machine shops, and silk screening rooms are working in full swing to prepare for regional robotics competitions around the world.

The clever Groundhog, also known as a Whistle-Pig! is our go-to prognosticator, and judging by the kind of weather blowing through the Midwest, and heading east, I think it is safe to say that "more winter" is the Groundhog's prediction.

As for Build Season, the wise Whistle-Pig says... "Twenty-one days on the build calendar, before the robot ships!"


Only this year, it's not just one robot that is meeting on the field of LOGOMOTION! This year FIRST is celebrating twenty years of promoting "The sport of the mind," and with this in mind, the challenge is for the high school teams to incorporate elements of robotics from the middle and grade school robotics programs, by building a mini-robot that will play in the game.


Basically what this means, is that there is more fun for everyone! Taking the optimist's point of view. It can also be implied that Alex, like all of his teammates, and mentors, is deeply immersed in designing, machining, building, programming, wiring, and testing two unique robots. And so, our Groundhog celebrations are very much robo-themed.

Yes, I am actually trying to tie Groundhog Day and robotics into one neat and tidy post. Work with me, people.


Unlike last year, we did not have a campfire, and this morning I did not get up early enough to make Groundcakes. I fell asleep, very late, to the steady hum of boys in the carport, milling really tiny parts, for a really tiny robot..


I have not chronicled the ups and downs of all the work Alex, Eli, and William have been doing for the mini-bot. William has been preparing the home metal shop, where we have a lathe and mill capable of cutting those very small pieces needed to build a small robot. Alex and Eli have been designing, and redesigning, a robot under fifteen pounds, capable of launching itself from a larger robot, then rising up a ten foot pole, and triggering a switch.

In Alex's hand you see a poly carbonate cylinder. He and Eli made it into a coupler, so that the motor's gears can be reconfigured... are you following this? 'Cause I am not. I just made Geoff explain it to me, and I am pretty much lost.

I do know that Alex and Eli have been calculating and configuring and working in measurements that are one-thousandth of an inch... then converting those figures for the metric lathe!

Go Robotics!

Okay. Maybe tonight we can add a little more Whistle-Pig to our Groundhog Day. Believe me, I am not above serving Groundhog cakes for dinner. And a nice roaring fire would be really nice. It's cold here... 53˚ f! Never mind our "cold." It really is cold in the mountains of snow in Massachusetts! And there will be big bonfires in Spain, for Día de la Candeleria. Go to "Moving On" and read all about this interesting occasion, the anticipation of spring. North of España, Pink Purl is recognizing Imbolc. Imbolc, or for us Groundhog Day is "A cross-quarter day... a festival day halfway between a solstice and an equinox." The things I have been learning suggest to me that we were right to bring home a tree to plant, and that we should probably add butter to our Groundcakes.

Well, whatever the weather, whatever you are immersed in, robotics or snow, or both: I wish you joyful anticipation and a spring full of dreams coming true, happy adventures, and many celebrations.