Thank you for this lake, for these friends, for this family, for this life.
Author: afthead
The lesser known bluebird
All day I watched a bluebird flitting around my rental car. After examining my car I determined he was the lesser known Bluebird of Crappiness.
A Wild Rumpus Tradition
There is somewhere you must visit if you are in Minneapolis, Minnesota if you are a reader, or a parent; if you are a parent of a reader; if you are a lover of books; or if you are a lover of pets. You must visit Wild Rumpus. You know the allusion right? From Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Thing Are.
“And now,” cried Max, “let the wild rumpus start!”
Let’s start at the door, shall we? The youngest Afthead is almost too big for the small purple door built into the normal grown-up sized door. Almost too big, but not quite. 5 years now we’ve been making an annual trek to the purple door.
You walk in and the store is half zoo, half pet shop, half bookstore, and half magic land. (Yes, I know that equals two, but this bookstore is greater than a single bookstore.) It has cats with no tails, chickens, doves, creepy albino rats, cockatiels, chinchillas, ferrets, tarantulas, fish hidden in the mirror in the bathroom, and a really ugly lizard. The cats are free to roam the store and their tailless ends are usually followed by a parade of children trying to grab a pet or a snuggle. The chickens are also free to roam with a similar parade of kids, but they aren’t normal chickens. They are like poodle chickens cute but a little foreign. If chickens and cats need a break they retreat behind the sales counter taunting the children with their proximity and inaccessibility.
When you are done staring at the floor looking for animals your eyes travel upwards to the shelves and shelves of books. There are books taller than you can reach: picture books, beginning readers, later readers, science books, geography books and even grown up books. In the back of the store there is a scary section. The albino rats live there, and there is a hole in the floor where some other creature lives. When I was a kid, this would have been where I lived. I’ve always loved scary books. Not my kiddo though, she’s in the beginner readers picking out books she’s never seen outside of her classroom and she’s delighted.
About this time you glance up to stretch your neck and notice the boat carving a path through the ceiling. Yep, in case there isn’t enough magic in this place the ceiling is actually a river with a rowboat carving a path through the white ceiling and leaving a path of blue green water behind it.
If you are in Minneapolis carve out an hour and go visit. It’s right by the airport. You won’t regret a moment there. In fact, you might end up feeling like you’ve doubled your investment.
Favorite Lines – Jim the Boy
“During the night something like a miracle happened: Jim’s age grew an extra digit. He was nine years old when he went to sleep, but ten years old when he woke up. The extra number had weight, like a muscle, and Jim hefted it like a prize. The uncles’ ages each contained two numbers, and now Jim’s age contained two numbers as well.”
– Jim The Boy, by Tony Earley
I have not been a writer my whole life: I came to that lately. I have been a reader my whole life, and since starting to put words to paper my love of books has grown. I will be reading or listening to a book and have to stop to re-read or rewind a passage marveling at “how they put that”. That said, I have always loved certain books and certain lines in certain books, so I thought I’d start to share some with you. These phrases, they are my inspiration, and I’d love to share them with you.
This one is from Jim the Boy, by Tony Earley. I haven’t read the book in forever, but I remember loving this line the first time I read it. I even read it to my mom, my partner in book love, so she could hear how wonderful it was this first line in Book 1 of the novel. Earley captures the magic of turning 10 from a child’s perspective in such a unique way. While my daughter has always talked about how many years she has in fingers or hands, I love how Earley describes it in terms of digits, and how ten has the same number of digits as his uncles’ ages: so momentous and yet a mystery there. Why uncles and not parents? I tried to create a similar feel in my story The Fisherman. Earley’s is much clearer though. There is no question about how old Jim is or what Early is trying to convey. But this writing thing, it’s all about learning right?
The book is a great read, and I’ve tucked it away in my backpack to enjoy again. Watch for more favorite lines in future posts!
Super Duper Excited about Healthy Snacks!
There’s a new vending machine at work named “Healthy Vend”. It’s been there for almost a month now. It accepts a wide variety of payment options: cash, coins, several credit cards and Apple Pay. Everything in it is $1.00, so it’s a super convenient and inexpensive way to grab something when I forgot my lunch or need a quick snack to tide me over before dinner.
The best part is that the snacks are not only healthy, but they are also invisible! Or maybe they just want to give health nuts the joy of buying something out of a vending machine, while not tempting them with the almonds, beef jerky, pretzels, or gluten free cookies that so often get dubbed “healthy” but really aren’t.
I haven’t tried it yet, but I’m going to. I love me a healthy snack. Maybe tomorrow…
A Sample of Historical Aftheads
The idea of afthead was one that wouldn’t let go of me. It started goofing off at work, when someone wondered, “What’s that called, that back part of your head where men never go bald?” An afthead of course! We started looking and couldn’t find a reference to an afthead, other than an occasional discussion of putting toilets in the back of boats. We searched domains and found that afthead.com was available for a pittance. The domain searcher said to me, “You’ve come up with an actual original idea!”
For a few months, heck probably years, that statement and the afthead idea drifted around in my head. I looked up the domain. Eventually I bought it, and did nothing with it. It was interesting though. I started noticing that I had a long standing penchant for aftheads. There is something natural, unposed, and real about snapping a shot behind someone’s back. It draws your attention to the scenery, to where the photograph-ee is looking, and it lets their personality shine through.
First there were a series of pictures from Italy featuring my husband’s aunt Bonnie. She passed away almost five years ago, and she was my favorite traveling companion. I love these pictures because they are are so her. She loved to walk, and we walked everywhere together. In the first image she’s climbing down to a city in Cinque Terra. I love her wide-legged stance. She was so strong and so curious about things. She’s reading something, and she has her horribly embarrassing fanny pack on: so practical yet so ridiculous to her then 27 year old traveling partner. If I’d captured her from the forehead side I would have seen a different Bonnie. A posed Bonnie who didn’t really love having her picture taken; I love this image because it is really her.
This second picture is amazing too. We were touring around Rome looking for the Forum and the Colosseum. We were walking and walking with our maps and guidebooks. Every ruin, every old looking building we’d say “Oh! Here’s the Forum” but it wasn’t. It was drizzling, and all the panhandlers who had tried to steal the fanny pack the day before were now selling umbrellas, and Bonnie bought one. We marveled at the multi-talented homeless people of Rome and wondered if they sold umbrellas they had stolen the day before. Finally we turned a corner and both said, “Oh! This is the Forum”. It was obvious. Bonnie then became the methodical tourist. She visited every ruin, would read about it, and study it. I stood back and just took the whole thing in. I didn’t need the same attention to detail; she’d tell me any of the really interesting parts. This left me free to take sneaky pictures of her. In this one she’s reading something, again. I love the umbrella discarded for the reading material, and I love the emptiness of the Forum. It was a mystery to us how anyone could be in Rome and not go out just because of a little rain.
Similarly, I found two sets of afthead images that featured my husband. One set is from our wedding in Scotland, and the other is from our ten year anniversary trip last year.
This one is the day we were supposed to drive to Loch Ness, but we both woke up tired and not excited about spending another day driving. Our bed and breakfast hosts suggested we visit the white sand beaches outside of Mallaig instead. A genius idea. Who knew Scotland had white sand beaches? It was the perfect honeymoon location. Rather than fight tourists and look for Nessie we took off our shoes and relaxed. I also love this picture because we did a lot of hiking that trip, and I spent a lot of that time behind my new husband, unable to keep up with him and angry because he wouldn’t wait for me and angry at myself for wanting him to wait. Ah the joys of new love.
This one brings back different memories. I was crazy into triathlon when my husband and I got married, and I remember taking this so someday I could go back to this lake and start Ironman Scotland. I marveled at the beautiful clear water and the perfect roads for cycling. Now I look at this and marvel at how much hair my new husband had on his afthead.
Fast forward ten years and we are in Acadia, Maine for our anniversary. Similar look and feel to our beloved Scotland isn’t it? But with a six year old at home starting a new school we didn’t want to go so far away. This first picture is from one of the hikes we did that we couldn’t have done with our daughter. It was so fun to be grownups for eight whole days. I’m happy to report that we didn’t have one fight this trip about who was walking in front, who was carrying the backpack or which one of us should wait for the other. Ten years of progress.
This one is another “give up the plans for a more leisurely adventure.” The plan was to go rent bikes and ride the carriage roads all over Acadia. Instead we showered, went for a walk on the carriage path, drove up to watch the sunset from a mountain top, splurged on a dinner in Bar Harbor, and watched the stars from a trail-head. That part of our relationship hasn’t changed. We pack our vacations full of plans and dreams, knowing we’ll kick some ideas to the curb and actually have more impromptu fun than our plans would have yielded.
The rest is history. Eventually I tied a blog to my domain and started writing in public. Since then I’ve compiled tons of other afthead pictures, but that’s enough for tonight. Oh, except that first one of Valentina, our resident cat in Lucca, Italy. Oh how I love that brown, warm fuzzy afthead.
Finish something, part deux
Now that the Afthead lice infestation is officially over, my hands were itching to do something more productive than comb hair. (I spent a lot of time examining my daughter’s afthead, let me tell you!) I wanted to finish something, like my BFF Neil Gaiman encouraged me to do a few weeks ago. The novel is still inching along, but I’ve had a knitting project in the basket since February, and I had Women’s World Cup soccer and Tour de France to watch this weekend. Knitting time!
My husband jokes about my knitting and my writing, “You’re so lucky. You’ve already got all your old-person hobbies figured out.” In retaliation I poke him with my knitting needle and make fun of him publicly on my blog. I’m excited about my first knitting blog, because I can try some cross linking between my Ravelry page and my blog. If you aren’t a knitter just look at the pretty pictures and wonder why on earth I’d want to work with a toasty pile of of wool when it’s over 90 degrees out. The pattern is the Chevron Scarf from Last Minute Knitted Gifts, and I used Liberty Wool from Classic Elite Yarns. It took about 3 skeins of the light tone (color 7804) and 3 skeins of the dark tone (7898). It’s a really long scarf. 
I also have a shower to go to next weekend for a dear friend’s baby boy. Well there’s nothing I love more than knitting baby hats, so I also started, and finished a baby hat this weekend. I watched a Lynda course about design and by the time it was done my yarn had become a hat! I have found that I can learn from those online courses if my hands are busy while I’m watching. It alleviates some of the tedium. I’ve yet to be brave enough to bring knitting to a meeting filled day at work, but I bet it would work in person too. Sadly I think knitting at work is at best weird and at worst rude.
This pattern is a modification of the Magic Coffee Baby Hat pattern. I used three Debbie Bliss yarns; the brown and blue are cashmerino aran (300008 and 300005) and the red is cashmerino astrakhan (31006) which is a yarn with a little texture to it. The cashmerino yarn makes the hat both not-itchy and machine washable, critical for a baby. I did a slip stitch on the fourth stitch of the brown row to make the brown bump in the blue stripe. I think it’s cute and should be a great first hat for a September baby. 
We are supposed to bring a book instead of a card to this shower, and as the book lover in this group of friends, I picked out the books for three of us. I’m like a kid’s book personal shopper. I love all three of these books. The hat is included in the picture so you can see how teeny tiny it is. 
What a productive weekend! Now I just have to wait two months for anything I created to get worn. The best part is, now that I’ve finished two somethings, I can start something…or tackle that sweater that was under the scarf in the knitting basket. Just one more sleeve! Maybe I can get it done before winter.
Yummies and Yuckies
When my daughter was little our pediatrician encouraged us to start doing “yummies and yuckies” as part of our bedtime routine. Each night we’d all share the best things (yummies) and worst things (yuckies) of our day. Sadly this little tradition has gone by the wayside – I think it had something to do with my daughter’s behavior being a yucky one too many times – but I’m going to bring it back here to catch you up on the life of the Aftheads recently.
Yummy/Yucky #1
- Yucky – my daughter got lice. It finally happened. I’ve been dreading this day and threatening to abandon her at the fire station if it ever happened. (I’m convinced that “safe haven” thing extends to seven year olds, but only if there are lice involved). I didn’t leave her though. I’m mommed up, dumped insecticide on her head, and combed through her long hair for two hours and 45 minutes removing lice, nymphs and eggs. Then for a week after I spent an hour going through her hair and my hair with a literal fine toothed comb – man I really get the imagery behind that phrase now- to ensure we were done with the infestation. She had a really mild case. It wasn’t that bad. I won’t get PTSD, unless those crawly things end up in my hair!
- Yummy – The lice killing chemicals had detailed step by step instructions for dealing with head lice, and vague references to “pubic lice”. I am thankful that I didn’t have to decipher those.
Yummy/Yucky #2
- Yummy – we had an amazing trip to Washington D.C. to kick off our summer. We took my daughter when she was four, and she really didn’t have any context for why our nation’s capital is a cool place. This year she got it. She knows the president lives in the White House. She stood on the step where MLK gave his “I have a dream” speech and recited the first few lines. Making it even more special was that we got to go with her best friend. I’ve got an adorable picture of the two of them, head to head, wind whipping their hair in front of the Washington Monument.
- Yucky – the best friend had lice when we were in D.C. but no one knew it yet. If you zoom in on the Washington Monument picture you can see those little burgers leaping off the friend’s hair into my daughter’s hair riding the currents of the wind to a new fertile land.
Yummy/Yucky #3
- Yummy – Marriage equality happened! I have friends and co-workers whose lives are changed because of this, and I’m so thrilled. I didn’t find out the way I’d imagined, but I got to find out with my daughter and we had a great conversation about what the supreme court ruling meant. It went like this,
Me – “Kiddo, this means people can marry whoever they want. If a boy loves a girl they can get married. If a boy loves a boy they can get married. If a girl loves a girl they can get married.”
Kiddo – “I don’t want to get married. Why do kids have to get married now?”
Me – “No I meant a man can marry a man and a woman can marry a woman now.”
Kiddo – “Oh. I don’t ever want to get married.”
Me – “That’s still okay.”
Then we picked up one of her friends and headed to camp. The two seven year olds had another great conversation about the ruling:
My kiddo – “Hey my mom said that anyone can marry who they want now. It’s a big deal.”
Friend – “Yeah, people can kiss whoever they want. I hate kissing.”
My kiddo – “I’m not getting married to anybody.”
Friend – “Me either.”
Thus the nation changed to be more tolerant, more accepting and more equal, but you still don’t have to kiss anyone or get married if you don’t want to.
- Yucky – I kind of forgot that everyone wasn’t anxiously awaiting this ruling. Its made some people I really love and care about pretty angry. While that doesn’t change my feelings it does remind me that change is hard and this ruling doesn’t mean that every individual has become more tolerant and more accepting.
Two more days of lice hunting and we can claim the infestation over. Maybe then my head will quit itching and I’ll have time to write again.
Spirit Animal
I work in a pretty conservative organization, so I was shocked at our strategic planning offiste when my new director recommended we start off sharing our “spirit animal.” We were to write down our choice on an index card and then pass the cards to him so he could read aloud all of our spirit animals to the group.
I was delighted with this little task, but couldn’t decide if I should take it seriously, make a joke, or be an ass about the assignment. A variety of options passed through my mind: owl, Loch Ness monster, cat. Then someone in the room said, “We should have picked our patronus” and I wrote down unicorn.
The mixture of animals our leadership team picked was pretty cool and diverse: fox, penguin, Canadian goose, sea lion, otter, turtle, mouse, deer, dolphin, desert sheep, baby robin and duck-billed platypus were all in the mix. (I said we were a conservative organization, not lacking creativity.) I was the only mythical creature and when asked to explain why I picked a unicorn I said:
- “Because a unicorn seems like it might wear rose colored glasses.”
I am a bit of a Pollyanna at work. I think things are going to work out and that people are trying to do their best and in the end things will be okay. This perspective is a bit unusual in my organization, so I wanted to pick something that conveyed that optimism.
- “We could really use more magic at work”
Who can’t use more magic at work? Pixie dust, Star Trek transporters, a pope who believes in climate change, and miracles all are welcome additions to my tool box.
- “I wanted something different from everyone else.”
I am an individual. I want to stand out and be noticed for the things that make me special and valuable.
By the end of the day I really liked this weird exercise. We referred to our own and other’s spirit animals throughout the day. We acknowledged the accuracy of choices and suggested modifications. At one point my spirit animal morphed into unicorn mold. Something about my growing and sticking to things, like mold. So the final evolutionary step of my spirit animal is a magical sparkly rainbow mold with spiky horns. Be careful not to step on me.
What’s your spirit animal?
E-mail divorce
I am going to share an image with you. I predict that you will have one of two responses to this image:
- Nothing
- Your eye will start twitching and you will run to find your own phone just to ensure that those little red numbers aren’t really there… Dear God is that 5,793 UNREAD EMAIL MESSAGES?!?! The horror….
In case it isn’t obvious, I am in camp 1. This is a screenshot of my phone. I leave e-mails unread, voicemails unlistened to, I have no earthly idea what Redbox wants to tell me 77 times, and none of this bothers me. My husband is in camp 2. He has a sparkling clean, organized, empty inbox. He clears up all those calendar items, whatever they are. Mostly, our relationship is pretty symbiotic. He deletes stuff he needs sometimes, but I can find that precious message in my heaps of electronic data.
Today we reached an impasse. We have had a shared e-mail address since we have had e-mail. We’ve managed our oil and water methods by keeping two outlook accounts where he can delete everything and I keep everything. However, a year ago we bought a crappy computer, moved to gmail and our system fell apart. Two outlooks was too much for the computer to handle so he took over the e-mail management. He moved everything into folders I couldn’t search and kept the inbox at a 50ish e-mail limit, thinking that was a compromise. But this was no compromise. This was him managing our joint inbox his way, and I hated it. So today we’ve had our first divorce in our relationship. 6 years after going to shared money, 10 years after getting married, 15 years after buying our first house, and 18 years after our first date I am leaving him and our shared e-mail. He gets custody, and I’ll have some visitation rights while I move my electronic stuff to my own place. We’ll still have some shared responsibility, but really it’s better for everyone this way. Me, my husband, and all those poor messages who have been stuck in the middle this past year. I can’t wait to watch my 5,973 unread messages start growing again.
Afthead 