Biking Home

Me: So, N rode her bike home from school again today.
McK: Yeh, how'd that go?
Me: Pretty well. She was scared at the start. It's been a while since she was on the bike and she was convinced this couldn't possibly go well.
McK: Did you tell her not to worry...
Me: Yeh.
McK: ...that it's just like riding a bike?

Colorado Trip Random Observations

1. I am a glutton for free wi-fi.

2. It never fails: walking by the bottle of Avian water in the hotel room I feel suddenly parched. Then convince myself not to drink it by muttering some choice words over the insane, INSANE price tag.

3. Occasionally I will speak up in a large group of my utility-enviro peers and I won't sound as dumb as I feel. Sometimes I'll even speak in complete sentences. Yay, me!

4.Whenever asked to orient myself amidst the Denver Metro area, dance clubs serve as my primary landmarks.

6. Awkward and clumsy as I am I can't stand to impose upon my cab driver to schlep around my luggage.

7. My friend, Ashlee, has a 13 month old girl who bites, kicks, and tackles kids twice her size. As a (formerly) small kid myself it was all I could do not to high-five her with congratulations.

8. Anytime I gaze upon a bed that's made, or a hotel room that's suddenly tidied I consider my lucky and glamorous life.

9. The sight of the Colorado sky-line still takes my breath away.

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Brush with Greatness: As many of you know I have a clutch of Colorado girlfriends. Whenever I travel to Denver they are gracious enough to make the time to see me. On this latest trip my friend Lisa mentioned her brother (A.J.) won the 2008 Popular Science Best of What's New Award. He invented a "smart-fabric" for self-heating gloves. No joke! How cool is that? Though, personally, I'm holding out for the self-heating socks.

The Gross Part

Driving in the car and listening to this song by Tristan Prettyman.

Naomi: What does she mean when she sings that?
Me: Sings what?
Naomi: Madly, madly, madly...
Me: Oh, she's singing about being both madly in love with someone and mad at them too.
Naomi: Like when you're mad at Dad but you still love him?
Me: Yep. And also loving someone so much it makes you silly and crazy.
Naomi: Because, you're mad at Dad sometimes.
Me: I am mad at Dad sometimes.
Naomi: I know.
Me: I also love him so much it makes me silly.
Naomi: Uh-huh (pause) that part's just a little gross though.
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An Unlikely Coupling

My car radio dial landed on KZUM this noon and found the weekly polka show in full swing. Living so close to the Czech capital of Nebraska, I'm quick to identify a good polka riff when I hear it. If pressed I could even dance the polka. Don't press me on this, because I won't actually do it I'm just saying I could.

I was about to switch the dial, this noon, to another station when I recognized the polka tune. Deep In the Heart of Texas. Want to, or not, you know some version of this song "...the stars and night...are big and bright...deep in the heart of Texas..."

The juxtaposition made me laugh out loud. When I think of polka music it's a thought unrelated to Texas. When considering Texas my mind doesn't wander off to polka. Playing musical matchmaker, I considered the musical genre and tune a sort of an odd coupling. Kind of like a blind date. One that doesn't work out that well.

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Currently Watching: This American Life (Season 2)
Shameless Plug: A Novel Idea Bookstore has agreed to donate a percentage of the Oct. 2nd sales receipts to Naomi's Prescott School. This is my favorite used bookstore in town, run by some of my favorite people on the planet, so I need no excuse to browse their collection. Save the date: Oct. 2nd. Buy books. 'Nuff said.

My Inner Ethel

I've enrolled in a six-week series called Progressive Yoga through the downtown Y. A small class of six. The instructor spends most of her time coming around to help correct your position in the various poses. We got started this past Saturday.

In one session I learned how to better manage my elbows. Being double jointed, those elbows can twist or tug me off course. And I found out that my body favors its left-hand side. The left leg in particular.

I've been a closet yoga practitioner for years. I'm not particularly skilled but I stick to it and advance in small steps. I'm bendy enough and all. The struggle is finding that peaceful mind or bodily space that gives rise to yoga practice. I'm a loud, chatty sort of person. The sort of yoga-faker who lays still, breathes deeply during the relaxation session all the while making a mental list of ingredients for Bombay Potatoes, because I'm in an Indian Food mood. I'll consider whether or not to swing by the store for some ingredients. I like to put it this way: if yoga is the cool, melodious sound of Billie Holiday then I'm Ethel Merman at heart. Always have been.

This class was quite nice. A collection of people interested, for whatever reason, in advancing their practice. As far as classroom settings go, I liked it. Incense, moody music. I walked into a room completely washed in earth tones and had to chuckle at my Ethel sense of sporting a vibrant-lime-green. Next time I'll opt for OSHA safety orange, I think.

The Open Road

Naomi has graduated from the world of training wheels. All summer long we’ve given this two-wheeler thing a go but it’s been in fits and spurts. With our summer routine, and McKibbin still working odd hours, we never really found a block of time to stick with it. Naomi would get frustrated or I’d have to get dinner started, and the whole effort would unravel.

The turning point came last week when Naomi set her sights on a purchase from the Scholastic Catalog that exceeded what she has in her piggy bank. After dinner she urged me to list some of her earning potential. I cast out a couple of ideas: extra chores around the house, memorize Sojourner Truth’s “Ain’t I A Woman?” speech, ride her two-wheeler home from school every day for a whole week…

She took a shine to this bike ride idea. By comparison to folding laundry, or memorizing the words of some dead person, I’m sure the bike ride sounded like a snap but, elieve me, the week proved to be harder than she expected. At times she’d crumple into my arms, frustrated and mad at that stupid bike. Other times she’d beg me to let go of the handle bars confident she could do it.

Living about eight blocks from Prescott Elementary school the trip proved a reasonable distance. But it was a long enough jaunt that she had to tough it out when she got stuck or skinned up. One way or another the three of us (her, me, and the stupid bike) had to get home.

Its official, though, as of last as night she got it. Even Naomi would have to say she’s a two-wheelin’ sort of a gal. She mounted the bike and took off for a two-block stretch. The sunlight spilled out on the pavement ahead of her. She bobbled to a stop well before the busy intersection, turned back to me and whooped with glee.

Math Tutor

Naomi: How come Granddave tucks me in tonight?
Me: Because it's a school night and you need to sleep in your own bed.
Naomi: Dad's at work?
Me: Dad's at work.
Naomi: Where are you going?
Me: I'm getting together with a person named Lucinda. She's helping me with my calculus homework.
Naomi: You get together and do hard math problems, then?
Me: Yep.
Naomi: So it's like a math date?
Me: Kind of.

Naomi stares at me, here, for a long time. Finally she sighs, and rolls her eyes with envy.

Naomi: Lucky.
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Recent Mistake: The color of hair dye I selected from Walgreens. It looked so flattering on the box, but, oy!
Daily Soundtrack: Crazy by Nelly Furtado
Quote of My Day: "You've just got to put it into perspective. Calculus never did anything useful like mow the lawn or anything."