I start things a lot and then cancel them. Or not, as it happens, because apparently, just like I lived in the same house for more than 15 years and still banged my shins on the dishwasher, I cancel out of email messages on my iPhone on a daily basis, and still, every time, suffer confusion about the resulting dialog, which reads "Save", "Don't Save", and "Cancel". Often I stare at it ...

Feb 16, 2009

Today was Opal's school Valentine's party, so she had a snack in the afternoon, and they let her eat a piece of chocolate, and yet, when I picked her up, she said she was STARVING and why were we going to the LIBRARY anyway? "Because you wanted to get another Tiger Moth book and the recording of the next book in the Young Wizards series." "Oh. I guess. But I am yearning to eat my ...

Feb 13, 2010

Opal and Jason were discussing their first computers. "Mine was grey," said Jason. "Mine is green," said Opal, "and it came with games already on it! I didn't even have to go get them!" "What kind of games?" "Well, there's this one with numbers? And you put the numbers in? And then you press the equal sign and it tells you the answer!" That would of course be the calculator. I ...

Feb 11, 2009

Arnold succeeded in becoming less peaky and Ned sprung him from the hospital today. This went faster than anything else on this hospital visit, and unimaginably faster than the last time we did it, when we waited long enough that people kept coming around to see if they could have the bed for somebody else yet, with varying degrees of sensitivity.

The going-to-the-hospital ...

Feb 10, 2010

Usually, I hate January. I live in the northern hemisphere, it's cold and dark (yes, even in sunny California). Plus my mother died in January (yes, that was more than 20 years ago. Look, I've loosened up about Mother's Day, but January I'm never going to forgive. It doesn't care.) This year, January seems to be spilling over into February.

The good news; hey, that bronchitis? ...

Feb 1, 2010

Our friend Christine has new poison dart frogs. They are shiny, and blue, and improbable; as an adult observed, they look rather like their fingers aren't even properly finished. Opal observed them closely, and then said "One moved!" "That's how you know they're real," I answered. She contemplated their container. "Well, that one is, anyway." We admired her skepticism. She watched ...

Jan 31, 2009

Opal: "I'm really tired." Me: "Good, then get ready for bed spit-spot." Opal, winsomely: "Sometimes when I'm really tired I don't have to brush my teeth." Me: "Those are times when you didn't just eat a dried apricot." Opal: "What difference does a dried apricot make?" Me: "They're yummy, but they stick to your teeth something terrible." Opal: "What?" Me: "The dried apricots." ...

Jan 30, 2009

Opal and I read some Maira Kalman, about Max, the dog poet, and she wrote this poem

I saw Miss Cat
Walking on Miss Catshair
Walking on Mr. Cat's feet
And I'll bet you who you're betted in
Little bed of twine

(Yes, there are three people here, Miss Cat, Miss Catshair, and Mr. Cat. I was taking dictation, and I checked.)

Read to and by Opal recently: I ...

Here is The New York Times talking about frequent passwords. And here is TechCrunch, ...

Jan 20, 2009

It is raining here. Sometimes hailing. There was what the locals called a tornado warning, while all the midwestern transplants scoffed and called it a watch. The weather is, all told, nasty. This complicates school, since Opal needs a rain coat, and rain boots, and shoes. Normally the only thing she takes to school is her lunch, so she just carries it, but there's a high risk in ...