Mr. Blue Sky Vs. The Monsters Under the Bed

Minion: So what's the plan, sir?

Megamind: I have no idea!

After the little one went to bed at just before 8:30, Dan and I started watching Megamind. I don't always like computer animated movies, but this is one of my favorites. Funny and sweet, the bad guy decides to do the right thing and changes for the right reasons.

Megamind movie poster, from Wikipedia, here.

ELO's Mr Blue Sky is featured in Megamind. ELO made a new video for it last year, in 2012 for some reason - the original came out in 1977. I've always liked it and have always thought I heard a dog panting in the song. Having seen the new video, either I'm right about the dog, or the animator mis-hears the same thing, because a doggie is animated in at just the right spot. Sweet, right? 

2012 ELO Mr. Blue Sky

The previous video of Mr Blue Sky was a more straightforward performance piece by ELO. From the marvellous and much-missed era of huge 'fros and rockin' mullets, it's neat, but in a different way.

Original video, ELO, Mr. Blue Sky

About an hour after we started watching the film, the little one came down crying. Fast forward another 40 minutes, and we sent her back to bed, still a little upset, but mostly calm. Now I'm upset, too.

Mr. Blue you did it right
But soon comes Mr. Night
Creepin' over, now his hand is on your shoulder
Never mind, I'll remember you this, I'll remember you this way
Lyrics from Mr. Blue Sky by ELO

She couldn't sleep because today at school, when she had a moment to read, she picked up a book called More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark (link goes to the Amazon page for the book). Tonight, in bed, she had plenty of time to think about the stories, and when she came down, she was terrified. I have the feeling that she may have picked this particular book up because it has a horse on the cover. She loves horses.

I'm actually not upset about the book. In spite of the title, it seems to be age-appropriate, from what I can see. It simply was not "our child" age-appropriate, but the teacher would have had no way of knowing. Additionally, I'm not one for censorship. Still, I know my child, and could have foreseen this. But I wasn't there. And she wasn't here.

For half an hour or so, we talked to her, and I held her & her pony and gave her tight hugs. Dan told her about a scary movie he'd seen when he was little (he'd seen Jaws) and how he'd had a hard time sleeping when he saw it, but how now he knows that movies and books can't hurt us. When she was calm, but still a little worried, we sent her to bed.

Jaws movie poster, from Wikipedia, here.

Normally, when she's scared, we'd sit up and talk and maybe find another book to read or do something to replace the scary ideas she has swirling around in her mind. We'd take the time until the issue was resolved, even if it took a while.

But we can't sit up for another hour or so.

Sending her to her room is a rude reminder of what "going to school" means.

Hey, you with the pretty face
Welcome to the human race
Lyrics from Mr. Blue Sky by ELO

She has to get up early in the morning for school, and I had to tell her that she had to go back and try to sleep.

Now I'm sitting here, sad and frustrated that I couldn't do everything I felt called to do because of time constraints. We did what we needed to do to calm her and get her back in bed and hopefully  to sleep. With school looming,  though, there is no time to find stories to give her new things to think about, or to have a talk about why we sometimes like scary things and how they aren't always bad.

She asked to stay home tomorrow, right before she went back to her room, and I had to say "no". School is something to fully commit to and attendance is important.

I desperately wanted to say yes.

Taking the time to talk and spend time with her and to fix things is how we've always done things. We both miss that right now.

I feel like crying, and I didn't even read a scary book.

Infinity

I am incapable of conceiving infinity, and yet I do not accept finity.

Simone de Beauvoir

 

Egyptian symbol
for 1 million or "many"

For as long as she's been talking, Clementine, five, has been asking about numbers. For years, she has asked me half a dozen times a day, every day, to tell her what time it is. I answer, knowing that she can tell time at this point and is only asking for confirmation. She let the fact that she could tell time  slip out last summer when she was taking her Kindergarten placement tests. We also discovered that she was reading well enough to answer multi-step math problems. This was only slightly surprising.

Newton's 

Philosophiæ Naturalis Principia Mathematica

Clementine has always been all about math. She gets it from her daddy. Dan is an engineer and thinks in the same terms, sees the world the same way.

solid figures by ppdigital,
by permission of MorgueFile^

This way of viewing the world is foreign to me. I am not all about the math and really have to think about it sometimes. It helps to tie math to something concrete. For me, geometry works better if I'm calculating something real, a wall to be painted, for example.How much fabric to buy to make a dress.Real stuff.

finger symbols for numbers, 

from the 16th Century

Because their thinking is foreign, I find it fascinating to watch Clementine make all these connections that don't always seem obvious at first. Dan, too. I love to listen to him explain something new. I love to observe the way these two think about the world.

the Ancient Egyptian symbol for 100,000, 

a frog or tadpole

Clementine learned to skip count by 2s recently, and the next day, she taught herself to count by 3s and 4s. 5s were easy, because they repeat a pattern of 5 & 0, but she quickly taught herself 6s and 7s, too. Clementine asked about 9s, and we taught her the rule (the "ones" number goes down by one and the "tens" number goes up up by one as you count up). The next day, she knew her 8's, figuring how to take away 2 instead of the "take away 1" from the 9 rule. On Monday, she asked about 11s, and was counting them within minutes.

Six 6's by alvimann, 
by permission of MorgueFile^

Clementine asks several times a day about what will happen if you add two specific numbers. Or if you subtract them. Or what would happen if you added them to negative numbers (which she calls "minus numbers", and has understood since she was tiny). Or what would happen if one number was a minus number, and one number was a positive number.And so on. She thinks about numbers and sees patterns all day every day.

 peeling numbers by chelle,
by permission of MorgueFile^

And Clemetine constantly asks about infinity. She's fascinated by the concept, and is always asking different questions about it, trying to find a way to push the idea of an endless number into a space she can handle. We've explained that it isn't a real number, but a concept, an idea about numbers. She loves that part. She wants to be reassured that you can
"always add one more".

 train tracks by DarrenHester,

by permission of MorgueFile^

Clementine seems to worry about infinity a bit sometimes. One day, I showed her the symbol for the concept. I"See, it goes around and around. It never stops." She "got" it and loved it.

This is infinity:

lemniscate

In math and physics, the figure-8 infinity symbol on its side is called a lemniscate. Like a Mobius Strip, it never ends.

I showed her this, from my own childhood:






There are other, similar lemniscates in math: the lemniscate of Bernoulli,^ the lemniscate of Gerono^, and who can forget the lemniscate of Booth^?

Pythagoras

Recently, we went out and grabbed a bite after a busy day. We were given a number, an 8 on a red acrylic disk so that our food could be brought to our table.

 Einstein at the blackboard

Clementine, put the number in the holder, declaring that, "Our number isn't 8, it's infinity!"

Not an 8!

Infinity!

Watching her thoughts unfold is like trying to talk to someone with whom you don't share a common language. You know that they probably make sense somewhere, but not necessarily to you.

I love her so much, for so many things, including letting me see what is important and what makes sense in her world.

Namaste

deena

Sunday morning...

Sometimes the questions are complicated and the answers are simple.

Dr. Seuss

Namasté,
deena

This week is...

So much better.

Much less stress, so much more peace.

I want to thank everyone who sent a note or an email or called about Petey last week. It made a bad week not-nearly so bad.

Thank you so much.

I was looking through some photos tonight and wanted to share these, from a city park near our house. We go here for picnics sometimes, and always take out-of-town guests, as it is a great place to see wildlife.

These were taken after a heavy rainstorm, and sort of typify the past week for me. 

Namaste,

deena

Petey

This has been the worst week, and I am so glad it is over and done with. I spent today writing emails and making phone calls after discovering that my daughter's school materials (which had come earlier in the week) had arrived without of couple of the key components which I will need Monday morning.

Monday morning.

As in: the office is closed until Monday. I have been kicking myself all day long.

I blame myself because I should have checked as soon as the material arrived, but I didn't because...

My husband had a pretty substantial (but hopefully very temporary) change at work, and I did my very best to be supportive. I think I was pretty successful, but I probably should have done more to stay on track in other areas. I might have made it, too, but for one thing...

The unthinkable happened, which pretty much blew the whole rest of the week for me.

My husband noticed that our kitty, Petey, was acting weird. She was actually acting super-friendly and cuddly. Petey is normally shy and retiring, afraid of everything loud and busy, especially Clementine, so it really was odd. Right after he mentioned her to me, I picked her up and snuggled with her, and immediately noticed a strange scent. Her breath smelled strangely sour - a smell I was sadly familiar with. It was galvanizing.

Petey

I lost a cat, Winnie, years ago to kidney failure, and though I didn't know it then, soon found out that the scent was a byproduct of the illness. I smelled it as soon as I picked Winnie up that morning. She was acting odd, and I asked my (now) ex-husband to take her to the vet. He did, and soon the vet called to tell me she was in kidney failure, that there was nothing to be done.

I decided to have her put down. I can't remember the details, but I couldn't go into town that day, and never saw Winnie again.

I'd had Winnie since before we had children.
Since before we lived in the country.
Since before we lived in the state, or even the state before that.
Several houses, and two children and three states away. So much crammed into so little time.

We'd been through so much and she was so loving and she died without me. She was only five. I've never forgotten it.

Our vet was in town, quite a ways from home, near my (then) husband's office, and because there was nothing the vet could do for Winnie, my (then) husband went and held her while she was put to sleep, a kindness I will never forget and can never repay. I couldn't be there, and I couldn't make her wait until I could.

So, when I picked up Petey and smelled that smell, I wanted so badly to be wrong. As the evening progressed, I was less and less able to convince myself. Petey slept on our bed, cuddled with us, and seemed so frail and weak. Petey was not old and had not been sick, and the smell... I just knew.

Dan and I petting Petey together

Dan called early the next morning, got an 8:30 appointment, and I took Petey in. Our vet saw her and gently examined her, and took blood. He told me that he was going to keep her and would call me with the results, but something in his voice told me what I didn't want to hear. I cried all the way home.

The vet called within the hour and told me the news - she was in kidney failure. Her numbers were too high to accurately measure. There was nothing he could do. He would try if I wanted him to, but it probably wouldn't be a permanent fix and... I don't know what else he said, but I told him I'd talk to Dan and call back.

Dan and I decided to have her put down. There is no way to justify making an animal suffer if there is no way for them to get better.

Dan called our vet. I laid down on the bed and cried.

We went over a bit later, and we all held her and petted her while she was eased out of her pain.

Petey's beautiful golden-green eyes

She died before the vet had finished the injection.

It was painless and quiet.

We weren't sure, right before, if Clementine should see the process. Our vet said that he thought Clementine would be okay, but that she could leave if she wanted, one of us would go with her. That's what we told her.

But Clementine asked to stay, and we are all glad she did because right before the injection, Petey raised up and nuzzled Clementine, wanting to be petted. In the moments before she died, she snuggled with Clementine, something she almost never did. Clementine has always been too active and full of energy for shy little Petey.

We all cried. I am so grateful that Clementine's last moments with Petey were good. Grateful to Petey for one last gift. Thankful and grateful to God or whomever arranges such things in the Universe for giving our small child the priceless gift of acceptance and love from our cherished pet.

Thursday, we all went together at lunchtime and picked up Petey's ashes. I've never had a pet cremated before, but I badly needed to have her back, though I'm still not sure why.

Me and Petey

Today we got a note about Petey's passing from the vet. It was moving and heartfelt. We will always cherish it.

So.

I should have looked through the material, and I have a good excuse as to why I didn't. But that doesn't really matter and now I'm kicking myself.

Having written this, though, I think I'll stop kicking myself. I think I'd rather spend my time thinking of other things, doing other things.

My cat is in a tasteful gray box on the mantle. I wish she wasn't, but I thank her for her love and companionship, and am glad to have the reminder.

My husband is home in bed, tired, after a good, productive, but slightly hectic week at work. I'm glad he's here. I hope the "slightly hectic" is ever-so temporary. I will be joining him upstairs soon. 

My sweet daughter is asleep in her bed. She asks questions about Petey several times a day. She thinks Petey is in Heaven with my Dad, and my cat Winnie, and her sister's cat, and the dog my dad had when he was a boy.

Clementine never met my Dad, his dog, Winnie, or her sister's cat. Petey gave her a connection to all those people and pets. All those souls and personalities. She knows that Petey is with them all, and is closer to them as a result.

Thank you, sweet Petey.

Thank you so much for everything.

We will all miss you and we will not ever forget you.

Ballet, Baseball, and Soup

We've had a busy week.

Preparing for a business trip. The last ballet rehearsal for the season. The first baseball of the season. And Dan has been on call. We're always thankful for on-call weeks, because they encourage us to stay close to home, which tends to result in more relaxed time together as a family. A good thing, as Martha Stewart says.

Still, we were out and about a bit.

The first baseball practice of the season was on Tuesday. Clementine's team was assigned and she met her coach for the first time. Dan helped coach last year, and probably will again. He has as much fun as she does.

If you've never seen really little kids playing baseball, you're missing out. Children scatter everywhere when the ball is hit, and they run all over the field for no reason at all. Last year, two kids skipped off to chase butterflies while their team was in the field. Lots of fun.

first practice of the season

Domo-Kun proudly wearing this year's team colors

We had our last ballet rehearsal this week. Clementine's recital is this weekend (she's a dancing flower, the program is Little Red Riding Hood).

It is every bit as cute and sweet as you might think.

 The last practice of the year

We spent a late afternoon outside after work one day, one planting flowers and tomatoes, and re-potting some indoor plants.

We have a few tiny tomatoes already!



what we're hoping for
from here^

Clementine has been worried over a barrel of marigold seeds we planted last year. We went outside every week toward the end of summer, deadheading the flowers and scratching in the dirt to plant the seeds.

She fussed over them all winter and spring, and grew terribly concerned that they wouldn't come up this year. It took us a moment, but we were finally able to find the little leaflets of the new plants this week. I was happy because I'd all but promised that they would be back.

Marigolds
from here^

And Clementine was happy because our "sleeping" seeds from last year decided to return.

We took time to play outside in the water with Clementine, and to enjoy the sun and heat after what seemed like an endless winter and a cold spring. Welcome back, summer.

Dennis enjoying the sun

A few months back, I managed to take the tip of my finger off on a mandoline cutter, cutting carrots for the dehydrator. This is what a mandoline cutter may look like:

(okay, probably not)

This is what a mandoline cutter actually looks like:

the real deal

Mandoline cutters make short work of veggies, and are capable of making very thin cuts without mangling the produce. Perfect for dehydrators and recipes that require thin slivers. Thin slivers means that the blades have to be very sharp. And they are. There are warnings all over the thing, and all over the box it comes in, telling you that it has really sharp blades.

Apparently, even though I read the warnings, I didn't take it to heart the first time. Bye-bye fingertip. Been good to know ya.

Ignore obvious warnings
at your own peril

This time was different. I managed to make it through several pounds of onions in a few minutes with all of my remaining fingers intact. The difference? I used the &^%%$&-ing guard, just like the directions said to do.

The resulting French onion soup was delicious. We had it in bowls with gluten-free bread and melted cheese one night, and as an accompaniment to turkey and mushroom sandwiches the next.

In case anyone wonders:

1. Yes, your fingertip will grow back, but it will be  incredibly sensitive compared to other, older hand parts. It almost hurts to touch anything with any sort of pressure.
2. When it grows back, it mat be flat at the tip, even if the other index finger is more rounded. 
3. I don't know if my fingerprint is different or not. The whorls and ridges  look the same to me. 
4. I have no idea how long the sensitivity lasts or if the sensitivity ever ends. It is good to have this sort of sensation for working in clay though, so I'm good with it either way.
5. Mandolines are devices which are used in the kitchen to cut food.
   Mandolins are a type of lute.
   
   

   

   Woman in a Toque with a Mandolin
   Jean-Baptiste Camille Corot (1796-1875

The greatest of these is love

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
and never stops at all.

~ Emily Dickinson ~

My dad, who died in 2004, would have had his birthday this week.

This week, and the week that he died in are always difficult for me. Some are worse than others, though I am never quite sure why.

I am happy and glad that our oldest daughters knew him.

I am sad beyond measure that Clementine will never know him. She would have adored him, and he would have adored her.

Dan met him only once. I wish Dan could have gotten to know him when my dad was healthy and whole.When he was himself. He would have loved Dan, and Dan would have loved him. They have a lot in common.

We must accept finite disappointment, 

but never lose infinite hope.

~ Martin Luther King, Jr.~

Every day, I miss my dad, and mourn him.

What you can't understand until you have lost someone important, is that the feeling of loss will never leave you. It isn't until after you lose someone that you come to understand what it means to mourn. 

It gets better.

It gets worse.

It never goes away.

Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.
~ Matthew 5:4 ~

Eventually, you come to confront the elemental understanding that it isn't supposed to ever go away, because it has become a part of you in the way that the person you loved was a part of you. Until they are a part of you again, you will feel the loss.

After that, at some point, you come to understand that it is good that the feelings of loss never leaves you.

You come to understand that you will always mourn while you are here and they are not.

You will mourn and miss and hope and have faith until you do see them again.

from here^

But now remain faith, hope, and love: these three. 

The greatest of these is love.

~1 Corinthians 13:13~

...the full value of joy

To get the full value of joy

You must have someone to divide it with.

~ Mark Twain~

 2011 Year of the Rabbit Stamp
from Taiwan

Love has no desire but to fulfill itself.  

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.  

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and
give thanks for another day of loving.

~ Kahlil Gibran ~

 by phaewilk^ at Morguefile^

Love is life. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love.
Everything is, everything exists, only because I love.
Everything is united by it alone.
Love is God, and to die means that I, a particle of love, shall return to the general and eternal source.

~ Leo Tolstoy ~

by ppdigital^, at Morguefile^

Happy Sunday!

 

A Simple Woman...

Every month, I remind myself to participate in the thought provoking Simple Woman's Daybook^. It's a series of questions to answer on your blog or journal. Reading the answers other women have given written always gives me a sense of who they are and what is important to them.

But every month, I don't. I don't know why I don't, because the questions are great and I do want to. Sometimes I start, but I never finish. I'm odd like that.

So this month, I forced myself. I' m so happy that I did. It didn't hurt a bit, and I like my answers, which is unusual, and I normally don't like much of anything I write.

Here they are...

Outside my window...
a ruggedly handsome man. From here, he looks to be grilling carmelized onion-chicken burgers.

I am thinking...
about a conversation I had with a friend a few days ago about (other) friends who believe in improbable, often wacky conspiracy-theories. I once read that people who believe such things are usually brighter than normal, which may be what allows them to discern and latch onto what seem to be patterns and coincidences (but which aren't really there). Once ensnared, confirmation bias carries them over the it's-a-conspiracy goal-line.

Alice laughed. "There's no use trying," she said: "one can't believe impossible things."

"I daresay you haven't had much practice," said the Queen. "When I was your age, I always did it for half-an-hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

(Through the Looking Glass, Chapter 5)

So, I wonder why I haven't ever fallen for anything like this.

Maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am.

Maybe we don't always know when we have a blip on the ol' logic detector and I have fallen for something unawares. This is my least faorite possible scenario. 

Maybe I've just been very lucky (so far).

“In fact, one thing that I have noticed . . . is that all of these conspiracy theories depend on the perpetrators being endlessly clever. I think you'll find the facts also work if you assume everyone is endlessly stupid.”

Brian E. Moore

Maybe there is no good reason at all.

More things in politics happen by accident or exhaustion than happen by conspiracy.
Jeff Greenfield

::shrugs::

Also, I am thinking...
about having grilled caramelized onion-chicken burgers.

With a ruggedly handsome man.

I am thankful for...
ruggedly handsome men who love to cook, having my dog home again (he was at doggie daycare for the last week while Dan was gone), my family, my friends, my home, and being able to enumerate simple pleasures.

I am blessed.
 
We are blessed.

From the learning rooms...
I have promised myself that I will re-learn how to cable knit if it kills me. Hoping it doesn't, but I'm prepared for the worst.

From the kitchen...
grilled caramelized onion-chicken burgers with mango-Serrano salsa, fresh corn on the cob, melon, and s'mores (with GF graham crackers) for dessert.

I am wearing...
a black cotton knit shirt, a tan skirt with blue and yellow flowers, and the silver bracelet I always wear. It was a gift from Dan, and I cherish it.

I am creating...
the finishing touches on a long languishing, soon-to-be-felted knit handbag. I started it last year. It's in autumn-y colors, which made sense at the time, because it was early autumn. I hope to have it done before the middle of the month so that I can start one in summer colors. I hope to have it finished while we're still in summer, but recognize that the blues and greens will probably go well in winter, when it is most likely to actually be finished. Also, I'm working on a a handbag made from vintage bark cloth. It's handbag week here, I guess.

I am going...
to be quilting later this week. I finally have enough vintage bedsheets in the right colors to start (and finish) a quilt in oranges, yellows, pinks, and reds.

I am reading...
Living Crafts magazine, which came in the mail today, and which I so look forward to. The editors and staff are able to capture and showcase the work of so many talented individuals, and the writing perfectly captures the mood in the photos (which are always gorgeous). Also, Babbitt, by Sinclair Lewis. It's one of my favorite books, and I read it from time to time to gain clarity.

I am hoping...
to get my nose pierced this week. It used to be, then it grew over. My face looks empty without it. Go figure.

I am hearing...
that Sarah Palin is considering running for President and has asked Donald Trump to consider running, too. They could run together and call it the You're Fire/I Quit ticket.

I have very little respect for Donald Trump and very little for anyone who would publicly bolster him by lending him any sort of respectability. So, phooey.

Around the house...
I have some laundry to do, and a schedule to make before I go to bed tonight. I want to re-do the spare room downstairs to use as a craft room/study, and want it to be as complete as possible before the first of August when I hope to put new shelving on the larges expanse of wall. So, it's time to schedule all that. I love schedules. And lists. Make them all the time. Sometimes, I even follow them.

Also, I'll be making laundry detergent tomorrow. I make it from scratch. It's easy and quick to make, it works at least as well as the store bought kind, and a batch lasts about a year and a half. And it smells better.

The best part: it costs about seven dollars for the entire batch. Seven dollars for a year-and-a-half.

The cheapest detergent at the grocery store does about 32 loads for $7.99. I was using one of the ones which was perfume and dye-free, so it cost more because they left stuff out.

32 loads for $7.99 comes to about .25 per load. We wash at least 1.5 loads a day, times 365 days a year. That comes to 547.5 loads a year, 821.25 loads in a year and a half. Minimum. $205.31 dollars every 18 months.

Versus $7.00.

And the neat thing is that without artificial perfumes, I can add natural essential oils. I added Frankincense and Myrrh (the real things) the last time. I already had it to scent some soap, so the carrier oils (what the teensy scented bits float around in) are safe for the skin and non-irritating.

And it smells wonderful. I will post photos and my recipe later this week.

One of my favorite things...
sitting outside in the summer as the sun sets over Pikes Peak, grilling on the back deck, eating on the patio table outside with family and/or friends. We did that tonight for the first time this year. It was lovely.

A few plans for the rest of the week...
working on our bedroom this weekend. I'd like to sort through some stuff for donation, to make it easier to repaint this summer, which is my goal. I should probably share my goal with Dan. Hi, Honey! I want to paint our room!

Here is picture I am sharing...
actually three.

First, one of our three beautiful daughters, 

on Dan's family's farm

Second, one of Clementine petting a horse on the farm. 

She loves horses more than almost everything else, 

so you can only imagine how wonderful it was 

for her to be able to pet 

and snuggle with a real horse.

Third, this is a brick path on the farm that Dan, 

his cousin, and grandfather (who has since passed) 

built about 30 years ago. 

And those are Clementine's feet on the very same path. 

So precious.