This Is Getting Bigger

Updating Our "Robotics to Atlanta" campaign:

Thank you. Gracias. Mahalo. Dankeschön. Toda Raba. Domo Arigato.

Your support and encouragement are fuel for our souls. The good things transpiring have energized me, brought me to tears of joy, and redoubled my determination to never give up, never surrender!

I have learned from SDA Foundation that earmarking donations for "Academic Council-Robotics" is very important and this is done in the PayPal section. Checks work too! These can be sent to me (email me for details) or directly to the Foundation.

Please make checks payable to SDAF-Robotics and mail directly:
SDAF
P.O. Box 235109
Encinitas, CA 92024

In other news: The ratty-rats are fine. Betty is laying. Joe is still the world's oldest rabbit. Max is happy that this is conference week. William, Alex, Geoff and Max thought Avatar should have won an Academy Award in every category, including "Best Use of Sigourney Weaver," "Best Foreign Language," "Best Movie Ever Nominated." Geeks.

Please keep praying, meditating, cheering, searching, supporting and celebrating with us. Thank you.



photo credit to Denise B.

Welcome to Chickenblog. Today I want to use this space to recognize, celebrate and promote FIRST and Team Paradox, of Team San Diego. If you regularly read this blog, then you know I love Robotics and all things Geek. If you are new to Chickenblog... welcome to our family scrapbook, where for almost eight years, I have been chronicling our ups, downs, ins and outs, my deepest thoughts and other musings. This has always been a personal space, that has slowly expanded and grown. Now I want to go to another level in communication and outreach. I need your help to achieve my goals.


In the last twenty four hours I have learned that dedication and heartfelt spirit can take a Team a very long way, but to get to the next level it takes daring faith and a willingness to reach out to the world for that extra push. I want to make the push. I cannot contain my emotions, or my determination to get 2102 Team Paradox to the next level.

At FRC, this weekend, Team Paradox played Breakaway with diligent, tireless determination, and courage. Our robot held together and we are already preparing to breakout at our next regional competition.

Were we discouraged not to make it to the final rounds? Yes, but we were not defeated. In the arena, across the grandstands, no one could miss the team that never sat down, that never stopped cheering, that never surrendered. Team Paradox cheered for the underdog, for the math, for the mentors and parents, for the kids from across town, out of state and across an ocean. We cheered for the love of working together to build a robot and to build relationships with our families, our schools, our community and the world. And we did not stop until the end... and not really even then.


We cannot ever lose, because there are so many ways to win, when you are a part of FIRST.

This journey began when the team started over three years ago. Many of those founding team members have graduated and gone on to universities, but they have not moved away all together. Team Paradox has a lasting and supportive core of members that return to mentor, support and stay with the Team. When Alex joined last year, he was coming from another school in the district. He was warmly welcomed. Last year, in San Diego we got our first taste of how amazing FRC is. The regional competitions have no equal for sporting-engineering fun. Wild, intense, fun.


This year we have more new members than ever before, and the team is as strong as ever. The energy and determination of the freshmen class, combined with the experience and dedication of the rest of the team is a winning combination. We have mentors that are as steadfast and focused as the students, willing to step in, or step back. The mentors have staying power. The team is supported by teachers, parents, siblings, the community, and some great sponsors.

Last year we broke new ground and became an award winning team. In San Diego and in Phoenix, Team Paradox 2102 won the Spirit Award :: "This award celebrates extraordinary enthusiasm and spirit through exceptional partnership and teamwork." We believed we had as good a chance at earning this award again... no kidding, you have not seen spirit until you have been with us through sixteen hours of regional competitions!

So.
Back to this year's FIRST Regional Competition...

We did not make it to finals.
We did not win the Spirit Award.
It was getting down to the wire, wrap up time.
Then something wonderful happened.

This year's Regional Engineering Inspiration Award to 2102 Team Paradox!


I think we experienced all of the emotions last night, but mostly joy and shock. We were over the moon to be there. We were totally stoked to take home such a distinguished award. But the biggest news of all spread slowly. We were a bit confused actually... things got kind of surreal as it very slowly dawned on us that the "Regional Engineering Inspiration Award" includes an invitation to Finals in Atlanta, Georgia.

One more time: The Regional Engineering Inspiration Award includes an invitation to Finals in Atlanta, Georgia.

Check. Double check. Confirm.

Can this be for real?

Well, it can be for real. We can go to Atlanta and compete in the FIRST National Finals, but we are going to have to redouble efforts that have already been extreme. The students, teachers, mentors and families have given their best and it has paid off. The design team excelled. The build team excelled. The marketing team excelled. We gave 100%, so we could excel... we just didn't know it would take us this far!


Team Paradox is about outreach, in our families, in our schools, in our communities, in FIRST.


Team Paradox is about experienced members guiding and encouraging new members, so that our future is as strong as our foundation.


Team Paradox is about believing in science and math, art and community, believing in our students, and loving all of it!


Team Paradox is about supporting and nurturing everyone on the Team.


I will never forget the power and awesomeness of these last few days, and I do not want to stop here. I do not want our memories to be a blur. I do not want to pass up an amazing opportunity. We need help to get this Team to Atlanta, to the Olympic Stadium. Our resources and energy are nearly tapped. We have one more regional to get through. These are huge events that take a lot of money, time, effort and brain power to coordinate. Please help us.

I need your help to achieve my goals. All of this is going on while the students are in school. They have homework, testing, classes... the works, and unfortunately the school does not support the Team as "a team." In the eyes of the school we are "only a club." No disrespect, but "teams" get a lot of attention and support from their schools, and we need support. Our mentors, the teachers work their day jobs, and then they give all of their "free time" to Robotics. This next level, that we are so hopeful to reach, needs more support, for us to attain it.

Chickenblog has a few readers out there... right? Hello. Hello? If you are out there, please leave a comment today. Please say "GO ROBOTICS!" Please move a ton of traffic here. Please suggest ideas and give advice. Please give me contacts and suggestions. Please step forward with your skills and connections. Please help us raise funds, get sponsors, and bring a winning team to Atlanta. We need you. Anything might help.


We stood and cheered for all forty eight teams in the arena, today I humbly ask you to cheer for us.

Thank you.

It's In The Crate
Time's Up!
And that is the official end of Build Season.
Six weeks of late nights, and pizzas. Six weeks of design, design, design. Six weeks of manufacturing parts, debating strategy, cleaning the shop, silkscreening T-shirts, sewing plushies, looking for contributions, training new members...


It is all a bLurR.
Especially after last night.
Especially for mentors, teachers, and team members that were actually doing the work.


With only about sixteen hours left, after school on Monday, the team kicked in to high gear for an all night push toward completion. Yes, after school, and before classes today.

A student led team.
Designing a robot from the gears up.
Students in high school, with regular classes and homework loads, in addition to running a marketing and business model.
Students manufacturing parts, bringing components and wiring together.
Mentors, teachers, parents... sharing their knowledge, offering their support.

Robotics is amazing. I know I have said a lot of this before, but it simply cannot be overstated. This team represents leadership, innovation, ingenuity, perseverance, dedication and creativity. The students do not hand the reins over to able mentors, they do not send away for a shiny robot kit with assembly instructions, they do not surrender.


They hold each other up, respectfully making the most of each members' skills. They look for solutions, make ends meet, and find answers.


Robotics is a family. Robotics is an exchange of knowledge and skills between generations, between teachers and students. A two way exchange of knowledge and respect.


Robotics is late nights, cooking for 40, or 30, or 20, or 60. It's drop-off and pick-up, and knowing that our children are part of something that is very, very good.


Robotics is being part of a team of bright, generous, dedicated, intelligent and flexible people... willing to lose sleep, willing to stay the course.


Robotics is messy.
It takes thick skin, humor, an appetite for pizza, brownies, orange slices and metal shop grime.

I took snacks about 7 PM. Maria and I brought some chips and organic fruit juice popsicles. Geoff was in the middle of the shop with his crew of newly minted freshmen programmers. Alex was getting ready to work on the gear box. Maria and I hung with marketing, took some pictures and made a list of what provisions were needed for later.


I returned to the metal shop at about 9 PM, and this time I brought sliced oranges and sliced carrots. I checked on Geoff. I checked on Alex. I took more pictures. Dinner the sequel was being finished up, and donuts were delivered.

At 10:40 PM I was back at the metal shop to bring Geoff his coat, and some other necessities. To warn him to stay away from the donuts. I also brought a folding mat and a sleeping bag... two vaguely comforting pieces for anyone that might need a nap. Everyone was in good spirits, going strong. Some students were squeezing in Catcher In the Rye assignments.


Some students were simply squeezed. Looks like the robot is in good hands. Many good hands.

William and Max kept Maria safe and happy, when I ran these little missions to Robotics. By the time I got home she was asleep, Max was reading in bed, and William was playing in the Mud.

My phone rang at 1:30 AM. "I think I am ready to come home," Alex said politely, with hints of nervous exhaustion. The metal shop was still quite full and many hands were on the chassis, testing the tower, adjusting a piston, bringing parts and ideas together. I brought Alex home, so he could do his homework.

School begins before eight in the morning, and when I woke-up at seven, I jumped into my jeans and hustled back to the metal shop to collect stuff, and check pulses. All those moving parts, boxes, tools, jackets, bodies, bedrolls, feathers and paint sets had to be cleared out, and students had to get to class. Bagels and coffee were on hand. Geoff had just left for home.

So... the robot gets sent to the arena of the first regional competition. Whatever the team built is what they will find on competition day, and whatever is missing they will have to figure out in the next nine days. It may be the end of the build season, but this is not the end of Robotics. And marketing... marketing is as busy as ever. Note to self: Gotta put some time in the plushie factory.

Do the math, save the world.
I want a nap.

Our Own Mountain
The giddy bliss of living here still finds new ways to make me deeply happy.


The south side of the house is fenced around and was once a dog run. When we moved in it was the bare, dry, sun-scorched zone that I mostly avoided, except to contemplate its ultimate purpose. Well, since all the great rain we've had, the area greened up, with weeds, and it is easier on the eyes, sheltered and appealing. I figured it might be a better place to house the *farm* until the lottery coughs-up barn money, so that is where I moved Betty and Joe... the south side.


What a great decision. Rather spontaneously I tore down the messed up shelter, then dragged coop and hutch across the lawn and around the corner of the house to their new zone. I can fence in Betty, while still giving her free-range space. Now the kitchen entry does not have to be a -ahem- POOP DECK. That is progress.


I think I can muster about 42% more interest in decorating and arranging my exterior farm, than for "normal" decorating. I hung some art, and dusted. Worked on the color scheme. Pulled weeds. Watered weeds. Accessorized weeds. My dear potting table of eleventy years was put in to service again. And as we sat back to soak in the loveliness, it occurred to me that by summer the green weeds will be toasted duff, and the loveliness will have lost most of its power over our hearts. It will be too bright, too hot, too dry to be a farmy nook for our livestock.


And so I brought home trees. More trees, and a planting box and trellis. Setback from the house, but not on the fence, in line with the west heading sun, I planted a Genoa White fig and a blood orange. The fig is a new variety to me, but blood oranges are a longtime sentimental and flavorful favorite. The fig is hilarious. It's a ten foot pole. It looks like the world's worst horticultural choice ever. It is a stick in the mud. Cracks me up.


The last feature of the south side is the mountain. In fact I think this whole thing merits caps. South Side Mountain was built by all the trenching, ditching, hole digging, earth moving labors of the Fall, when we were getting control of drainage and repairing sprinklers. I love saying "we." There is more digging in our future... and Geoff was going to have all of the dirt hauled away at once. But now that we have claimed South Side Mountain for ourselves, it shall remain right where it is. It will be a pumpkin mound, or seeded for wild flowers, or we will sink a fire pit and call it our own South Side Volcano.


In the meantime it is a quarry-castle-hole digging place. This makes me happy. I love dirt, and earth, the coolness and the warmth, the wealth of opportunity. Joe, the rabbit, was digging in the soil, then throwing himself in to the the loose dirt. Betty was having a record breaking dust bath. She looked euphoric in her rapture. I have waited seven years to witness and enjoy this liberty and earthly delight.


Max and Maria played for hours. I fell asleep beside Betty. Alex took a homework break and admitted he was not too old to want to join the dig. William too recognized the attraction of dirt play. I fondly recall his tunnels to China. I was afraid Max and Maria would not have this experience... freedom and ownership, time lost to being in the dirt, making stories and games, escaping to imagination. We have played, of course, at the beach and in other gardens. But the tunnel they made is still in their garden, not washed away by the tide, or collapsed by a careless landlord. No one will object to what they make, what they explore, what they tear down. It is their own.


I do not tell them that this is "special." I am not teaching them to see it in a particular way. I like them to make of it what they will, and my pleasure is in being a witness, being beside them, planting seeds.


There are many pleasures in life, many things to desire, and places to see, but this... being in our garden, listening to their plans and watching their play... this is one of my greatest pleasures.


New seeds, likes wishes and dreams in a packet.
There is so much goodness already sprouting and taking hold. I am deeply happy.

The Trouble With Travel

It's not that I have any regrets about traveling. Truly. La Paz, BC, 1987, may be the only regrettable trip we've ever made and yet it recalls priceless memories. Heat, hunger, illness, flood, boredom, and *"Rosa Salvaje."

No, mostly travel has never been regrettable, and yet it is not without its risks. The trouble with travel is that sooner or later I have to go home, and eventually when I think on my experiences, the new things I discovered and tried, it will stir feelings and desires. And there is nothing to quell the stirrings, the antojo, except more travel, to return... It may be true :: Un poquito de lo que te antoje te hace sentir bien, but having a little bit of Europe is not as easy as I wish it could be. Oh, those cruel cravings.

Maybe because it is breakfast time and I am hungry, I am missing dinner in Bruxelles.


Salad at T Kelderke, Grand Place.
Fruit and nuts and a toasted cheese over a bed of fresh greens.
I miss salad at T Kelderke.


I almost skipped this one, because thinking of it really makes me want to insist to Geoff that we go back. Now. How else to satisfy the rumbling ache of desire? Okay. If you get to go to Bruxelles consider sitting for a slow dinner. Never mind the slow part... bring a book or just sip your beer and gaze at the crowds in the Grand Place. Just be sure that you order this soup. It is so good. So good. It's all about warmth and cheese and stuff... whatever. I don't need to take it all apart. Whatever they put in there works. Geoff and I shared a bowl the first time and we managed to be dignified, but the second and third time we definitely ordered two bowls.
I miss this soup.


I miss this beer.
Stunning. I am not a big drinker. For one thing it does not take a big drink to effect affect me, and otherwise few alcoholic drinks really hold my interest. My brother Hans said good things about Belgium beer, and I have found him to be a dependable guy, so I made a point of ordering beer our first night in Bruxelles. Maybe it's being on vacation, sitting amidst beauty and history, and next to my sweetheart, maybe I was super thirsty... or maybe Belgians really make awesome beer. Whatever. I drank two Grimbergens that night. I miss this beer. Solely for scientific purposes, of course, I would like to research this point, to better understand the deliciousness and thirst quenching satisfaction of this particular beverage.

Moving on.


I miss slow dinners. The T Kelderke easily takes the prize for slowest service in Europe. Oh. So. Slow. And yet... oh, so good. So, who cares? The waitstaff looks indifferent? C'est la vie. No one comes to take our order? That's fine. We can outlast them. It's worth it. And initially it does feel like some kind of contest: Our will and patience vs. their neglectfulness. But eventually we learn to go with it, relax, sit back. Bring out a book, start a conversation or several conversations. Make new friends. Organize the backpack. Scroll through pictures in the camera. Sip another Grimbergen. It gets so mellow and... and ... what's that word? Relaxed. Yes, I missed relaxed, slow, delicious dinners, with cranky waiters.

I miss Belgium. Even the waiters.


I miss red geraniums. And flower boxes. And Paris. There were red geraniums all over Europe and flower boxes too. I noticed flowers everywhere. We come from an area that prides itself on its flower heritage, but our town needs to step-up, because the flower gardens and borders and beds and windows and corners of Europe were more abundant and lovingly tended than any place I have ever seen. I miss the alpine flowers in Switzerland and the miles of sunflowers in France. And I miss the hundreds and hundreds of window boxes I saw, everywhere we went, overflowing with brilliant, red geraniums.


I miss this dancer. Well, not really. She's here, in the next room, and she still dances. All the time. Everywhere. It was so sweet and amusing to be in the Louvre, at the Eiffel Tower, in the Alps, on a train... anywhere and see Maria overcome by a song, a melody, a distant tune, and begin to dance. She cannot help herself. She dances all the time. Unless she is talking. Or drawing. Or making wishes about God sending ponies to her, over rainbows. So even when the Venus De Milo was in the room, I could not keep my eyes off of Maria.


I miss sailboats and Jardin des Tuileries, and Max's away smile. It started in Paris, and maybe that is because we had finally shaken our jet lag... Max started smiling. He works so hard during the school year, trying to exceed his own rigorous expectations of himself, that I think the vacation part of our vacation really did him a lot of good. I love that I have dozens of smiling Max pictures, more in those three weeks abroad than in a whole year of at-home-time photographs. It's an away smile, at ease and confident. He loves Paris, and Rabbit Hill, and he mastered all the metro systems and switching languages. He had a good handle on Euros, gladly calculating exchange rates for me. He was no chicken abroad. He excelled and exceeded all of my hopes for him.


Speaking of Rabbit Hill, I really miss the Netherlands and Landal GreenParks. I miss bunnies frolicking with bunny abandon. I miss the total rest and ease of feeling at home, while traveling aboard, that one can enjoy at Rabbit Hill.


I miss our cute little home and the fun modes of transport at our disposal. I miss the respect and space given to cyclists and pedestrians. Sure, I would love to see new places and have other adventures, but ooh... ooh, I could totally spend another week or two here again. Maybe like an annual thing, or every other year.


I would have no trouble at all convincing the children.

I miss the places we went, the things we did, the fun we had... I miss Europe. All of it.


Okay. Maybe not all of it.
But enough of it, that I would even face three weeks of doing this by hand, if we could go back. That's the trouble with traveling... it makes you miss a lot of stuff and then you gotta figure out how to go back. I did have my doubts, but that's okay. I like to keep it true.


*The World Wide Interwebs are amazing. After twenty three years with the theme song and basic narrative haunting the recesses of my cerebellum, there she is: Veronica Castro and the whole telenovela outline. Bill... hey brother, can you still sing the song? Want me to make you a Pinesol-lemon-lime margarita, hold the ice, so you can have total recall? Good times.

The Many Facets of Geekdom
In the sidebar you may have noticed a long list of labels, with names like Chicas and El Rancho... those are a way for me to bring some order to 7+ years of Chickenblog posts. Click on the link and you get oodles and oodles of posts about my Chicas, or our lives as Jolly Green Ranchers. One of the labels is Geek, which I figured would cover all the areas of our lives where we get Geeky... Legoland, SIGGRAPH, Comic-Con, Robotics...

Hold on... we really get geeky a lot, and in many ways. I think we are going to require a Geek subheading or two. Yes. One for Comic-Con and another for Lego business, and now, one exclusively for FIRST and robotics. Obviously the beams will cross occasionally, but I think we have enough robotic material and future robotic plans to make this category worthy of its own Chickenblog label.


January 9, 2010. Launch.

So. Last year Alex was a visiting student, who joined the high school robotics team, which is part of FIRST :: For Inspiration and Recognition of Science and Technology. It was obvious from the start that we had found a special program and an awesome team. And by the end of the build season our whole family was on board.

This year we actually know what's going on. Or at least we know more than we did this time last year. It's hard to contain our excitement about this build season... the next six weeks of intense-full time robot design, building and team building.


There are a lot of new team members, and this year the team is helping bring a new team up to speed... yes, we share tips, advice, support and spirit with other teams... it's all a part of the program. "Gracious Professionalism" might sound like just a "nice" idea, but in FIRST and with this team, Gracious Professionalism is a working-living-competing attitude in the arena and out. The notion of "good sportsmanship" could learn some things from robotics' Gracious Professionalism.


Yesterday the new season launched, which means teams around the world tuned in to the live NASA feed for a first peek at this year's robotics competition arena, rules and theme or game. It marks the very beginning of everything that will lead to competitions, when the team brings a completed robot to a regional event to play. With videos to watch and thick, heavy manuals to read, the team spent the entire day learning, planning and preparing for what lies ahead. It's just the beginning.


I won't be posting specific details about our team, because I am not an official media-representative, with permission to share personal photos or names... but the specifics aren't even necessary. All the teams matter. All the teams represent dedication, hard work, brain power, and the spirit of robotics. It's a Geek thing.

A Very Full Year


So much has happened in 2009. So much that was good and memorable. I would be remiss to leave out a special day in July when us Chickens were Abroad, enjoying our first family European travels. Some years Chickenblog has done a retrospective, highlighting the special events that made up an entire year. Today I will recall just one special day, as a favor promised to a favorite aunt... this one is for you Carol.

Before we resume our Chickens Abroad travelogue, please be advised: This post is a doozy. Get a snack. Brew some coffee, find the lumbar pillow, stretch. Don't hesitate to schedule an intermission.

Ready?

We were in the Netherlands and thoroughly enjoying the restful and full days after the big city days in London, Paris and Bruxelles. Even our one day braving Amsterdam traffic was lovely and worthwhile. Leaving Rabbit Hill was hard. We had had a lot of fun there. From this very central part of Holland we were heading south, to an area that is a narrow slip of country nestled snugly between Germany and Belgium. Our GPS, flakey yet indispensable, was aiming for the little town of Valkenburg and a certain castle.


It turns out this is not the Kasteel we were looking for.


Not the moat.


Not the cows.

I suppose if we had brought guide books with us, or if we had bothered to learn to read and speak Dutch, then finding the ancient Kasteelruin Valkenburg would not have been so challenging, but then we might not have discovered this beautiful spot. That would have been a shame.


We aimed for town again and realized that the elusive castle was actually right in front of us, or more accurately: Right above us.

Of course. One of the highest points in Holland would be up.


But first, before any more climbs, we stopped for some local brew.


Then we climbed. The most sacked castle in Europe on the right and the entrance ahead of us...


Or so we thought. Even without our GPS, we managed to find the longest route to our destination, so our walking tour of the town was extended as we circled the base of the castle.


If Alex were writing this you would be enjoying fascinating details about castle construction and history, the lives and means of castle dwellers. He was an ideal companion on our self guided tour. His enthusiasm was infectious and his knowledge extensive.


Up we went.

I am not going to provide detailed analysis of the the layout, the features, the history. No time. Besides, it's been done.


Alex was making sense of all of it. He understood that cut stones and crumbled walls were once whole walls and actual rooms. He painted a picture for us, told us stories that filled the space with voices and possibilities. I could imagine dark, cold winters, long sieges, daily life, order and labor.


Narrow passages and medieval justice, made me grateful to have been born in the twentieth century.


There is something stirring and indescribable about standing in ancient places, seeing the hills and trees that were seen hundreds of years before and sensing that somehow there is still a connection between then and now, us and them.


We felt reverent. We were surprised and engaged. It's not a polished site, with everything reconstructed and served up for simple consumption, but I think we preferred it this way. We were on our own to detect the quieted, yet real history all around us.


It was beautiful.


It was neglected and old and messy and interesting. It was great to be there and not have a guide telling us what to think and which direction to look. We touched the walls, and deciphered the purpose of rooms and corridors. We saw the flowers growing between ancient floor tiles.


Looking up or looking down, our eyes met stories told and untold.


It's good to know history, to feel familiar with local culture and language, but there is a pleasure in wondering too. I do not mind mystery, quietly reflecting and enjoying my own experience. A lot of places and sights that we found in Europe were new to me and I have since been inspired to learn more, to read and research, but I am happy to have made my own first impressions as well.


Kasteelruin Valkenburg inspired reflection.
I think this was a baptismal font. The stone was very different from the walls. It was in the chapel.


Here is a chapel arch.


We sat in the chapel for a family portrait.


This is an embarrassing admission: There were plenty of markers and signs that detailed specific aspects of the architecture and some history, and the castle is being restored, but I rarely read plaques and history markers. Isn't that wrong... wasteful or something? I don't know. Maybe I am too absorbed in being there. Facts and dates don't last as long for me as feeling and experiencing. For me reading info can come later, when the real place is far away.


So, if you go there and want to know how many times the castle was under siege and sacked, or when the Wolf's tower was constructed, it's there. You can read all about it. You can study the detailed models too. This one shows an earliest version of the castle. (Very Monty Python, I thought. Peasants packing mud etc.)


At its best, when the paint was fresh and all the light bulbs were working, it must have been amazing.


And when I was thinking of the castle walls tall and intact, the gardens tended, the wells full, I marveled at what people accomplish, what nature erases, what time takes away. And I am still trying to understand why, after all this time, I still felt something living there, something from then, when it was a working home, a real place. What is that intangible, elusive sense that history is present and its voices are still around us?


So much to ponder.


Even when historians can fill in the gaps and I can read all about it in a book, there is a tremendous privilege in seeing it and exploring it for myself.


Alex believes this must have been the great hall.


And Max knew these were the arrow loops. He took aim. He was there.


She was there.


We were all there.

And we are looking forward to this new year and the new places we will go.

Happy New Year dear friends.