I could tell you about the shuttle drivers we had this weekend. (They were each great in their own ways. The first because she was enthusiastic and opinionated and talkative and honey this and darlin’ that. And the second because he was waiting just for us and took us directly to the car and then told us which way to go to avoid the new toll on the bridge.) I could tell you about the six-and-a-half miles I ran today in the fog. (It was slow and I’m still not a very good runner.) I could tell you about one book I just finished and another I started. (One was fiction, the rare piece of the genre I read and, thus, a real guilty pleasure. The other is a historical collection, and we’ll get into it at a later date.) I could talk about a lot of things, I suppose.
But I have a picture of The Yankee with a horse:
And we also met a donkey this weekend:
That was at the ranch, which I’ll tell you a bit about tomorrow. But, first, there is a video of the sky:
And, tomorrow, we’ll talk about a historic farm.
family / Friday / photo — Comments Off on We come to sing true praises 13 Jan 17
We buried my step-grandmother today. This is my step-father’s mom and she was just a gem of a human being. A lovely Southern lady, through and through. She lived a full life and was independent, and fiercely so, right up to the end. She still traveled, alone, at 92. And to know her was to be charmed by her and to be charmed by her was to be a person who said something like “I hope I’m like her at that age.”
The pastor gave a nice little service and then Rick, my step-father, stood up and talked about his mother. And in front of a room full of people that had known him his whole life and her their whole lives, he really painted the picture well. Her niece talked and then a nephew. A former college professor colleague of hers (she taught English and reading) and a friend of hers spoke about her as well. It was a celebration, which is what they had wanted. There was a reception afterward. And then we all took a long drive so that she could return to the place from where she came, surrounded by her family again. And in that there was a little history lesson for the family, too.
Another preacher offered a graveside service and it was lovely and somewhere in all of this someone had this great notion that essentially said our elders give us love and we repay them with joy and happiness. And that seems like something you really would hope is true.
It was cold, but the rain had stopped. We placed our pall bearer flowers on the coffin. Right after the service concluded this large flock of birds that had been just a bit away in the cemetery, the size of which you don’t often see anymore, decided to start singing and flew off to the west. We heard them all, and I managed to catch the last few on my phone.
I saw this on her porch yesterday, and if there’s ever been a more apt thing said about a person or her philosophy on garden decor, I don’t know what it would be.
“O, Tiger-Lily, I wish you could talk!” says Alice in Lewis Carroll’s ‘Through the Looking Glass.’
“We can talk,” the flower says, “when there’s anybody worth talking to.”
And she was one of those, because she wanted to listen to everything, because she was interested in everything. The thing about people that invite you into their circles — and I’ve had some experience with this — is that when they welcome you in you don’t often want to leave. And she was good about that, bringing you in, making you feel welcomed and the center of things. So it is with the rest of her clan. Near the cemetery is a family ranch, and we went there for a visit. It was more of the family, and more neat history that we got to learn about. I’ll write a few things about that next week.
We were standing in a viewing room in this fancy Texas funeral home. Fanciest one you’ve ever been to, probably. My mother and stepfather had let the grandchildren in. There are four of us. I was the step-grandchild and the oldest and whatever else I was and I was standing back there behind the grandkids as they looked at their grandmother. I watched them thinking whatever they thought as our folks left the room and after a while I finally said this thing that I’d been thinking about all day.
The thing I’ve learned in the last few years is that the thing about grandmothers, or any person that has that much importance in your life, is that no matter what has happened or what will happen or what you might imagine for yourself later, they are still there. She’s still around you and with you. The things she tried to teach you and the good times she showed you and the lessons she really hoped you’d learn, they’re all still there. She’s always still going to be with you as an influence and a guide. That’s the great thing about the people that are important to you. They always stay with you. There comes a time, in your own time, when that occurs to you. And that is a really, really, really comforting thought.
It had come to me just today. It had taken me almost two-and-a-half years to figure that out and I think I needed to hear it as much as I wanted to say it.
Two of my grandmothers. (The way my family tree works I’ve had a handful of amazing grandmothers and great-grandmothers.) Dortha, my step-grandmother, is on the left. Bonnie, my mother’s mother who remains one of the most important people in my life, and impacts all of my big decisions, even still, is on the right. This was taken on a trip they made with my folks to the Butchart Gardens in Canada in 2014.
My office has the three coat hooks behind the door. I’m not sure why there are three. It is a small office — just me in here — and it surely won’t get three-coats-cold. But it has been plenty chilly the last few days. So gloves and a scarf came to work today, as did the heavy leather jacket. And so I used all the hooks. Didn’t want any of them to be left out, lest the mishape a coat, so I used them all and created an unholy beast.
But at least its a warm and inviting one.
Here’s something else a bit weird. In the microwave the cook sensor found something it didn’t like last night:
Oh, sure, we made scissors jokes and Big Lebowski jokes and then this morning I noticed the other corner of the clock display. Clearly the magnetron inside knows something is wrong. You wonder if the cathode or the anode has the bigger problem with cooking toes.
(I had to read a bit about magnetrons to make a joke, so it seemed like there should be some internal conflict there.)
This morning, Allie is securing the perimeter from birds:
The Yankee put a bird feeder right outside that window and it seems to be working for everyone. This is the morning routine now: push a hooman (me) off the bed, enjoy the heated blanket for an extra half hour after he gets up, set up camp guarding the library windows from the offensive birds.
Those birds are a morning problem. They don’t seem to be an issue later in the day.
She does a great job keeping the birds outside.
At work we got to tour the Cuban Center at Assembly Hall. There’s a giant green screen room and some high end broadcasting gear going in. They are building up facilities to run all of the video screens in the athletic facilities from there. The original scoreboards are on display outside of the newly renovated gym. Inside the actual court there are 28 cameras making the new FreeD technology. You’ve seen this, the cameras in certain venues where you can see a key play in the game from a revolving series of angles.
It takes two people to run, a pilot and a navigator, and right now there are 11 people in the world that know how to do this.
Eleven. That’s the legitimate number. And if you want to get into the technology, IU is the only place in the world to do it. Soon, major soccer leagues and Major League Baseball will have this technology in all of their stadiums. And it all started with a small Israeli company, recently purchased by Intel, and the Cuban Center here at IU.
Also, being Indiana, there’s basketball, of course:
By transitive properties The Yankee is now a five-time national champion.
Back at the office, where things are slow, but productive. They’re moving around a few editing bays and I’m dealing with email and various administrative things like deadlines and deliveries and purchase orders and its all great fun.
My watch beeps and I have to walk around a bit. I discovered that someone brought their foosball table. Not sure who, or if there is an expectation that it will be played, but it is in a common area, and does make that particular room feel something like a startup:
Students will be back next week. I bet it sees some use.
I made this video as a quick experiment. I wanted to see which version looks better when it is embedded. There are three versions of the same below, but more words following that.
I think the last one has the best quality and look. What do you think?
It was 11 degrees outside, so we went to the gym. I joined the gym. Now I have to see what all they have. They do have a nice track, though:
Eight laps equals a mile. The place is newer, cleaner, brighter and has people on it, which is an improvement from the track I was running on last year. That was 10 laps per mile and about 55 years old and I’ve only just realized how drab and lonely that track was.
But indoor running anywhere beats 11 degrees outside. And laps, when you find a rhythm, go fast. I got in six miles tonight. Six miles before a salmon dinner. Salmon is good, but it fills me like an empty lecture. I’ll be snacking again in an hour, I bet.
