Saturday, April 22, 2017

22~ We Got STEAMed

Grant and Alex~

On our way to March for Science... for Science. For Technology. For Engineering. For Art. For Math. For Education! As the Benevolent Order of Makers we couldn't miss marching for STEAM Education, and we couldn't miss bringing out our 12' tall benevolent cosplay, the Laputa robot!

Look at me still marching when there's science to do... I borrowed from Portal and Still Alive, to express the exasperation of marching in defense of empirical data, research based evidence, education, the EPA. I mean, seriously?? And Paul's sign was a brilliant reminder that we cannot let the Anti-science culture get us down. We gotta get STEAM-ED! Not mad. Good stuff, and right in line with my mantra... I'm here, and acting out of love, out of inspiration, out of resistance to tyranny, ignorance, hate, and fear. Love trumps hate.

Hey, it's Kevin S.!

We marched. We marched hard for Science!

It takes a team of BOoM Nerds to bring out this robot, and make our way through crowds, around trees, under overhangs.

We became a Robot Parade within the March, drawing our own crowds and Miyazaki, and robot fans.

In a future time children will work together to build a giant cyborg
Robot parade, robot parade, wave the flags that the robots made
Robot parade, robot parade, robots obey what the children say

There's electric cars, there's electric trains, here comes a robot with electric brains
Robot parade, robot parade, wave the flags that the robots made
Robot parade, robot parade, robots obey what the children say...

They Might Be Giants

The 'bot is a big hit. We stopped for pictures all the time, and we had fresh Happy Earth Day flowers for anyone that correctly identified this big fellow.

The robot is from the animated film, Castle in the Sky, and is the one that cares for the garden. Our robot has been to two Maker Faires, and to Fanime conventions.

He's very popular.

He's popular, big, and benevolent, his eyes are programmed to light in the same sequence as in the movie.

And he makes cool shade.

Amira and Maria were happy to march, to show they are passionate about education, about health, and the planet, about our National Parks, and natural resources. There's a lot to get STEAM ED about!

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Thursday, April 20, 2017

20~ His Spot

You wouldn't think this would be an appealing spot, to stop, and sit... perched on someone who is balancing on a stool, in the middle of a haircut. But cats, right?

Mister Foo sauntered across the lawn, right up to Max, then jumped onto his knees for a face to face visit. Then he turned, and kneaded, and settled right into his spot.

He didn't mind the snip-snip of the scissors, the falling, cut hair. Cats.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

19~ Waiting For Maria

Mister Foo, gazing out the window. Cairo, luxuriating. And Chango, in one of his favorite spots. They are waiting for Maria. We are all waiting for Maria.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Tuesday, April 18, 2017

Monday, April 17, 2017

17~ She Is Ready

Maria, our youngest, our child who has counted down to 6th grade camp since first grade. Packed, with a book (Lord of The Rings,) her favorite pens, a journal, Blue Bumby, the extra shoes suggested on the packing list, and body wash & shampoo all-in-one. Just everything, you know, because that's how you pack when you send your child to their first away camp. If not actually, then at least mentally, you pack for every possible circumstance and foreseeable situation, and you pack for improbable things like blizzards, wolverines, impromptu poetry slams. Everything, because if I cannot be there to kiss her goodnight, to hear her reading aloud, if she has no kitties to greet her when she enters a room, then she should have a suitcase full of clean socks and love, and affection, and best wishes, and all of our support and encouragement, and a toothbrush.

I am trying to be funny, to make everything humorous, and I think this is because I hesitate to admit how difficult all of this is. She is our youngest, our baby. I love and trust everything about her, her intelligence, her curiosity, her enthusiasm, her emotional capacity to empathize, to express her own ideas, feelings. She is capable, and more importantly, she is resilient. I know all of this, and also what our culture insists are the ideal things to do... to coax independence, self-reliance, to push them out into the world. I know all that, and I know this, too... it is an honor and a privilege to be her parent, to bear witness to her growth, her voice, her doubts, and revelations. I am in no hurry to rush this. Her life, all of my children's lives, are like marvelous novels, and I do not intend to re-write them or put calls into the editor, but neither can I put the books down, stop caring about the settings, the characters, the plot. I cannot help but wish to have more time, more space, to see how it will play out, to watch her choose a camp activity, to hear her impressions of archery, night hikes, camp food, to catch the details I know will not come out in her retelling, the highlight reel. In my defense, because I distinguish my love and curiosity from obsession and hovering: It's not about stalking her... it's just that I really miss her. I love to see her happy, I love to hear her laughter, to know when she's tired, or short, or insightful. She's such a compelling story.

I have been happy to love every stage of my children's growing up. Infancy, toddler years, betweens, teens... all of it. So, here we are, on the brink of new points of view, new kinds of stories... ones all her own, with parts hidden, and parts she will tell in great detail. And I will love this, too. And I hope that everything we packed, everything we've held up to her, and wished for her, I hope it's enough for a week at camp. And... and I hope that she sees, too, that she has her own resources, her own strengths, her own wishes, that can carry and sustain her, that get her through this week, and all the rest of her long, marvelous story.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.

Sunday, April 16, 2017

16~ Hello Easter

Easter. I could go through the archives of this blog and pull up all sorts of evidence. Evidence that decidedly proves that I am forever dropping the ball when it comes to Easter. Sometimes, rarely, we have success... really lovely occasions, to be sure. But there are far more accounts of melted chocolate bunnies, empty baskets, and general confusion. Never mind all that. This year I let the day arrive quietly, with no big demands, or expectations. We invited our friends, Paul, Janece, and Amira over to share in our No plans for Easter? gathering. We made five, or more, different salads, and I hid a basket for Maria, and another for the big kids, which included croutons for the salad. William baked his beautiful challah loaves. Everyone was on hand in preparations, and clean-up, and that was wonderful. Did we decorate eggs? Uhm... No. But we may, yet. We played badminton, and thanks to Amira, we all learned how to make white glue and borax slime, which was loads of gooey weird fun. Hello, Easter. Welcome hope and spring, and re-birth. We needed a gentle, quiet day, no less full of reflection and gratitude, but slightly less sugar infused, fancy, demanding. Maybe next year we can get the families together, which I would dearly love, and maybe someone will grill lamb, or we can try our hands at pysanka eggs, but I think I will retain this new tradition of allowing for a quieter, gentler, slightly less demanding celebration.

With Infinity More Monkeys, a picture a day.