Bliss in the Weeds


Besides earthquakes and aftershocks, something else has been going on in So Cal... we've been blessed with amazing weather. Almost summer-like, almost late summer-like, which is when it tends to be even better than the month of gloom we have in June. We've been making mint tea, and minding the rose buds, watering our orchard, taking dinner outdoors, and soaking up the beauty in the breeze.

Even the weeds look verdant and good, although on closer inspection I can see we are going to be plagued with stickers if I don't selectively yank the offenders. Betty surveys the land, and she is glad. This is spring, she declares. This is Betty season.


Up close I notice the stickers, and closer still... I see the lady bug beetles. Loads and loads of scurrying red beetles, and black dotties on red beetles. Eating the aphids beetles. Darling and good, lady bug beetles.


And baby ladies. Baby beetles. Did you know? Some people don't recognize these reticular little bugs as ladybug larvae. Now you understand why I am delaying the weed pulling party. I love pulling weeds. Honestly. I would gladly pull weeds in my yard, than get my nails done. There are lots of things I would rather do than get my nails done. But still. I get lost in happy garden bliss when I am pulling weeds. When I get around to it, I will be very courteous of the ladies.


Betty?
Betty, are you courteous of the Lady Beetles?


Yes, Betty and the Lady Beetles are neighbors, and friends.
O, Betty, eres bellisima. Chica-chica.


So, with the children home from school, and the sun shining, I am blissfully sitting amongst the weeds. Counting hummingbirds and dreaming of figs. The lady bugs are traveling up and down the highway of stalks and leaves. Maria digs holes. Alex builds a windmill. William watches, and chats. Max reads The Hobbit, again. Geoff makes garage progress. And slowly the sun slips west.


Stickers are inevitable, as is the return of school.


Happiness can be so fragile. Fortunately it is also abundant, and easily nurtured.


I like to pause, to recognize happiness, and the pleasure it gives... before the memory flies away.

SadisticsStatistics


I wish I had never bothered. With the stats, that is. Checking the daily-weekly-monthly numbers of readers, skimmers, lurkers visiting Chickenblog was slightly amusing, kind of interesting, and ultimately intimidating. I learned that Sunday and Monday are slow days, not too many visitors. I learned that most visits to Chickenblog come on Tuesday. Like today. Today is Tuesday and there may be ten or more people here. Seriously. Wow. Wow.

I mean whoa. Like when you drop your head, turning it slowly and sort of sigh disappointedly, whoa. Actually it could be horse talk too... like when you pull on the reins and say firmly "whoa!" It could be like bringing a horse to a quick stop, because it feels like that is where the blog is headed: A complete stop.

After three times checking stats about Chickenblog, I also leaned that readership has plummeted. Dropped. Nose-dived. Tanked. Imploded. Evaporated. *poof*

Where did every body go?

Ah come on. No one really believed I was writing this blog for the heck of it, right? Regularly dragging my brain through html and proofreading my own deep thoughts and other musings, just so I can have an excuse from scrubbing toilets? I am in it for the book rights, the movie contract, the ad revenue (eighteen cents to date). I've been blogging so Ellen would catch wind, and ask me to bring my favorite robotics team on to her show, so she could bestow plane tickets to Atlanta on them, and give me dance lessons. I've been thinking how to sound interesting, modest and super cool for my Fresh Air interview. This is my job people. I am not going down without a fight. *power fist in the air... cheesy grin on face*

Just kidding.

Or am I?

Just kidding.

I don't need a job. I have Molly and McGee to fill my time with productivity and interest. And children, and laundry, and Betty.

Oooh... look, Molly is preening.


Maria did not want to miss the executives' meeting yesterday. She loves this team. Gee, do you think I've had some influence on her? I honestly do not dictate art assignments for her, or drill her on the Paradox dance. She has an internalized passion, that is self-motivated.

I didn't want to miss the executives' meeting either. I keep showing up, uninvited, and they are starting to accept it. I was even offered a private mentor's swearing in ceremony, as soon as Isaac can locate his wand. I hope he wasn't kidding. I plan to mention it, casually, to Terry. I crave ceremony.

This post is mostly random. And I am okay with that.

Spring, It Sprung!


Happy Spring!

Did it surprise you?
It surprised me.
I saw it coming, but then I kind of missed the spring-eve anticipation, and then this morning WhAm! It's Spring.

You'd think, with no less than three calendars hanging in just one corner of the Bird House, I would be up on these things. Our calendars mostly say : Robotics. Go to... robotics. Meet for... robotics. Take dinner to... robotics. Make reservations for... robotics.

So, signs of spring must be elsewhere... let's see...


Hmmm... we cannot get enough.
I took almost every post I ever wrote about robotics and put them all in one post, so that it is like a massive Robotics index for Chickenblog. It was pretty much a nightmare trying to make the code work, because I am pretty much an amateur when it comes to code. But I keep trying.

And Maria... she's learning code. Look at all the words she is writing. Her writing skills are springing! I love our message board.

But, spring is outdoors. Right? Nature. So, outside I went, in search of the new season.


Ah, the morning light, the glistening dew. Here is spring. In the flowers. In the air.


And I saw the calla lilies, and Chango reposing in the garden bed. I thought how idyllic and good nature is, how lovely the forms and lines, the rhythm of the new day. And I was totally getting poetic and reveling in the nature high, and this seemed like a good time to photograph Chango. He was there, still and content... what a perfect opportunity to capture the essence of spring.

But.
Nature.
Nature is brutal.
I mean, come on... poetry, and dew drops on lilies... it's real nice, but nature has all kinds of plans and devices.
I'm just saying...


Chango?
Chango, what are you... ?
Nooooo!
Don't eat nature Chango, not spring. Not the very emblem of cute, fluffy-tailed baby spring.

Okay.
Go back inside everyone.
Come on.
Spring is inside.
Let's go.


Blinded by grief, I point my camera in all directions, looking for something lovely to erase the graphic nature of events I have witnessed. Pictures of my ranchero boys. Happy memories of springs past, elotes, beseros, y sombreros. My thrift shop find, a sleek red handbag... perfect for no occasion I am likely to enjoy, but I like the possibility.

Then, salvation. Bill is sending me real life nature pictures. Action shots from Soquel-Cal, where the dear and the antelope play. The dear are my nephew and niece, Dominic and Marissa.


Ah, Nature. Here is Nature. At the lumberyard and garden center.

Thank goodness.


Bill says these reindeer are pretty wild, like buckin' reindeer. Seriously. You have to hang on for eight seconds. Don't get bucked off.

I'm telling you, Nature is brutal.
And spring, spring will spring on you.
You gotta be ready.
Just sayin'.

You're probably thinking I am trying to "look busy," just because Geoff says "Before we go to robotics, we should clean."

Spring Cleaning.
Brutal.

Never Give Up, Never Surrender


When I put those words on Chickenblog, in my profile, it wasn't because I am chronically optimistic, or whole heartedly ambitious, or even particularly perky. For me, Never give up, never surrender, is more than a great movie line... it's a great reminder of what I am striving for. I want to be resilient and daring, I want to overcome obstacles and navigate rough water. And when I lose my way, or get knocked down, I want to believe that those words will rise in my mind, and spirit, and get me on my feet again. I need support. I need encouragement. I need affirmations. Left to my own devices, I am a bit too attracted to feh and meh.


This has been a bad week. Not fatal. Not devastating. Just bad, which is not good. Know what I mean? Hmmm... just admitting this, actually makes it seems a bit better... less bad. Cool.

I was in the yard yesterday and from our bedroom upstairs, I heard Maria's rescue me now cry. I bolted in to the house and flew up the stairs. And even though I was flying, somehow I managed to tear the thingy that makes the calf muscle stick to the thing, which is in my leg... not sure if it was the gastrocnemius or the soleus. I am quite certain it was the one that lets you freely put your own weight down on your leg, which I can longer do. My leg screams at me, then goes floppy. Maria fell though a chair that broke, and scraped her back. Between my wincing and her crying, we were quite a pair.


Geoff is not working one hundred hours/week, and we are all getting reacquainted, which is good, but not as easy as it might sound. Post-crunch mode is always a bit of an adjustment, a combination of recovery and realigning. And now we have a secondary and almost equally consuming project... a little something we call Robotics!!!! Man, I love robotics. Man, do I need a robotics break. Mostly though, I love robotics. Geoff is logging some serious hours as programming mentor, and you may have noticed I have added my unique, sincere, amateur touches here and there. Anyway, our family-domestic Bird House Rhythm is kind of on hold, which is not easy. It might help if there ever was a Family-Domestic Bird House Rhythm, but whatever, it will happen. Right? It's not too late. I am really hoping it's not too late.

Okay. What was my point?


I am taking the high road. My complaints and laundry list of bad week evidence are done. I will leave the rest unsaid. I am going to accentuate the positive. I am going to make that leap of faith, and believe that if I do not give up, if I do not surrender, that we will be alright. We will find the way to heal, and to grow, to learn, to make do, to feel good, be good, and do good. Affirmations, jokes, hugs, band-aids, faith, sweat, Lexulous, and signs of spring... those blossoms of hope, love and courage... those are what I am going to focus on. Maybe especially Joe's nose. Look at it. It makes me feel better already.


Flowers are blooming, even a rose. Betty is happy. The cats are alive, and they are happy too. The children keep working, and learning, and making me proud. Geoff found the Tylenol. Delia and Ron will be in Vegas. William was offered a paying job, from his good work at his volunteer job. Alex recognized Japanese words and phrases when we watched a movie in Japanese. Max makes awesome wishes. Maria is writing and reading words (her own name, Max, Izzy, love, and more). The rainy season is mostly over and the leak in our roof didn't get too bad. Good stuff. Yup.

This Is Getting Bigger

Updating Our "Robotics to Atlanta" campaign:

Thank you. Gracias. Mahalo. Dankeschön. Toda Raba. Domo Arigato.

Your support and encouragement are fuel for our souls. The good things transpiring have energized me, brought me to tears of joy, and redoubled my determination to never give up, never surrender!

I have learned from SDA Foundation that earmarking donations for "Academic Council-Robotics" is very important and this is done in the PayPal section. Checks work too! These can be sent to me (email me for details) or directly to the Foundation.

Please make checks payable to SDAF-Robotics and mail directly:
SDAF
P.O. Box 235109
Encinitas, CA 92024

In other news: The ratty-rats are fine. Betty is laying. Joe is still the world's oldest rabbit. Max is happy that this is conference week. William, Alex, Geoff and Max thought Avatar should have won an Academy Award in every category, including "Best Use of Sigourney Weaver," "Best Foreign Language," "Best Movie Ever Nominated." Geeks.

Please keep praying, meditating, cheering, searching, supporting and celebrating with us. Thank you.



photo credit to Denise B.

Welcome to Chickenblog. Today I want to use this space to recognize, celebrate and promote FIRST and Team Paradox, of Team San Diego. If you regularly read this blog, then you know I love Robotics and all things Geek. If you are new to Chickenblog... welcome to our family scrapbook, where for almost eight years, I have been chronicling our ups, downs, ins and outs, my deepest thoughts and other musings. This has always been a personal space, that has slowly expanded and grown. Now I want to go to another level in communication and outreach. I need your help to achieve my goals.


In the last twenty four hours I have learned that dedication and heartfelt spirit can take a Team a very long way, but to get to the next level it takes daring faith and a willingness to reach out to the world for that extra push. I want to make the push. I cannot contain my emotions, or my determination to get 2102 Team Paradox to the next level.

At FRC, this weekend, Team Paradox played Breakaway with diligent, tireless determination, and courage. Our robot held together and we are already preparing to breakout at our next regional competition.

Were we discouraged not to make it to the final rounds? Yes, but we were not defeated. In the arena, across the grandstands, no one could miss the team that never sat down, that never stopped cheering, that never surrendered. Team Paradox cheered for the underdog, for the math, for the mentors and parents, for the kids from across town, out of state and across an ocean. We cheered for the love of working together to build a robot and to build relationships with our families, our schools, our community and the world. And we did not stop until the end... and not really even then.


We cannot ever lose, because there are so many ways to win, when you are a part of FIRST.

This journey began when the team started over three years ago. Many of those founding team members have graduated and gone on to universities, but they have not moved away all together. Team Paradox has a lasting and supportive core of members that return to mentor, support and stay with the Team. When Alex joined last year, he was coming from another school in the district. He was warmly welcomed. Last year, in San Diego we got our first taste of how amazing FRC is. The regional competitions have no equal for sporting-engineering fun. Wild, intense, fun.


This year we have more new members than ever before, and the team is as strong as ever. The energy and determination of the freshmen class, combined with the experience and dedication of the rest of the team is a winning combination. We have mentors that are as steadfast and focused as the students, willing to step in, or step back. The mentors have staying power. The team is supported by teachers, parents, siblings, the community, and some great sponsors.

Last year we broke new ground and became an award winning team. In San Diego and in Phoenix, Team Paradox 2102 won the Spirit Award :: "This award celebrates extraordinary enthusiasm and spirit through exceptional partnership and teamwork." We believed we had as good a chance at earning this award again... no kidding, you have not seen spirit until you have been with us through sixteen hours of regional competitions!

So.
Back to this year's FIRST Regional Competition...

We did not make it to finals.
We did not win the Spirit Award.
It was getting down to the wire, wrap up time.
Then something wonderful happened.

This year's Regional Engineering Inspiration Award to 2102 Team Paradox!


I think we experienced all of the emotions last night, but mostly joy and shock. We were over the moon to be there. We were totally stoked to take home such a distinguished award. But the biggest news of all spread slowly. We were a bit confused actually... things got kind of surreal as it very slowly dawned on us that the "Regional Engineering Inspiration Award" includes an invitation to Finals in Atlanta, Georgia.

One more time: The Regional Engineering Inspiration Award includes an invitation to Finals in Atlanta, Georgia.

Check. Double check. Confirm.

Can this be for real?

Well, it can be for real. We can go to Atlanta and compete in the FIRST National Finals, but we are going to have to redouble efforts that have already been extreme. The students, teachers, mentors and families have given their best and it has paid off. The design team excelled. The build team excelled. The marketing team excelled. We gave 100%, so we could excel... we just didn't know it would take us this far!


Team Paradox is about outreach, in our families, in our schools, in our communities, in FIRST.


Team Paradox is about experienced members guiding and encouraging new members, so that our future is as strong as our foundation.


Team Paradox is about believing in science and math, art and community, believing in our students, and loving all of it!


Team Paradox is about supporting and nurturing everyone on the Team.


I will never forget the power and awesomeness of these last few days, and I do not want to stop here. I do not want our memories to be a blur. I do not want to pass up an amazing opportunity. We need help to get this Team to Atlanta, to the Olympic Stadium. Our resources and energy are nearly tapped. We have one more regional to get through. These are huge events that take a lot of money, time, effort and brain power to coordinate. Please help us.

I need your help to achieve my goals. All of this is going on while the students are in school. They have homework, testing, classes... the works, and unfortunately the school does not support the Team as "a team." In the eyes of the school we are "only a club." No disrespect, but "teams" get a lot of attention and support from their schools, and we need support. Our mentors, the teachers work their day jobs, and then they give all of their "free time" to Robotics. This next level, that we are so hopeful to reach, needs more support, for us to attain it.

Chickenblog has a few readers out there... right? Hello. Hello? If you are out there, please leave a comment today. Please say "GO ROBOTICS!" Please move a ton of traffic here. Please suggest ideas and give advice. Please give me contacts and suggestions. Please step forward with your skills and connections. Please help us raise funds, get sponsors, and bring a winning team to Atlanta. We need you. Anything might help.


We stood and cheered for all forty eight teams in the arena, today I humbly ask you to cheer for us.

Thank you.

Like Being Drunk, But Less Social
I really need sleep. The uninterrupted kind I have heard talk of. Not eight collective hours. I need eight consecutive hours of restful, cough-free REM.

Otherwise I am inclined to write unedited posts like this.


Sleep, I have read, is necessary for our mental health. Without good mental health, things begin to slip. When things slip it is possible that someone will completely forget:

1. Back to School Night (an evening for good mothers to demonstrate their love and dedication to higher learning for their progeny.)

2. To return books, papers, forms, sign-this materials.

3. To make motel or camping reservations for our robotic weekend in Lost Wages, Nevada

4. Floss teeth and pluck eyebrows... it seems my sinuses are not the only things congested around here.

5. Choose a school. Hope the school chooses us. Then enroll someone in a kindergarten.

When things slip it is possible that someone will be attracted to reckless ventures and irresponsible impulses:

1. Buy an egg incubator and hatch chicks.
2. Buy chicks.
3. Adopt a kitten and a hedgehog.
4. Drive to Oregon.
5. Get something dyed or lifted, tucked, sucked, or removed.
6. Give up.
7. Say what I really think.

Me, Like A Chickadee

How, like a chickadee?
I cannot seem to stop chattering. Maybe not out loud, but certainly on this blog. And sometimes, like a small bird, I flit from branch to branch, or from subject to subject.

I never have been sure how to categorize Chickenblog. "Random" comes to mind.


A Whatbird.
Ever seen one before?
This bird, and several shyer ones, was sitting on the top of our apricot tree. And it sounded... don't worry, I am not about to give you my audio bird call interpretation... it sounded like a chickadee. When the sky was blue, it did not look as yellow.


And when the clouds filled in, the yellow was more pronounced. Does anyone recognize our little Whatbird?

Last night it rained. It rained more than I had expected it to, which is not necessarily significant information meteorologically speaking... it's just me, chattering away. Yvette you were right about the mud at South Side Mountain, which is why I am glad I left most of the weeds alone. The weeds do a lot of good, I say.


Have you ever had a season when you were sick so frequently that you felt embarrassed? I believe I wash my hands frequently, and I have been taking vitamins. I own and use a neti pot (this might sound like a bad testimonial) and I think happy thoughts. I kind of squirm uncomfortably when I have to admit that, yes, I am sick, again. Recently I missed a very important celebration. Maria was croupy, and I was "under the weather." I thought I made a full recovery and certainly had no clue that I was headed for worse. But. Here I am. I blame Dr. Drillhappy Martin. In 2002 he found his way through my tooth, through my jaw, and into my sinus cavity. I am not sure he was going to stop, but lucky for me Alex walked in to the room and demanded to know, "Why is my mom's mouth filling with blood? Nothing sinusly has been the same since. *shakes angry fist of indignation*

Did I have point?
Maybe the picture is an extreme macro-shot of my sinus cavity?


No. Self-sinus-photography is not one of my skills.
This is Geoff's. He is the Robotics programming mentor.
I was going to make this control panel and write programs to operate the robot, but then I got this sinus thing, so I let him take over.
I would explain it all. Describe the function of that metal box with the thingy sticking out, and why when it is on it sounds like a breadmaker, but... Top Secret.


Yeah, it's pretty much classified. Technical and classified, so sorry. Please step away.


This is slightly less technical, but equally as elaborate as Geoff's programming driver station. It is one of my baking drawers, and it is decadently loaded with measuring cups and teaspoons. The wealth of this drawer makes me lightheaded and bakingly gratified. There is abundance. Disorder, only to the untrained eye. I see clean supplies, ready to go to work. I even have a tool for making raspados and two maple leaf cookie cutters... two? I do love Canada, and autumn.


Want the dish on my kitchen?
I love thrift shopping.


I love aprons.
I love table cloths, dish towels, and bowls.
I really love bowls.


I love these teeny tiny glasses... Holly, Rich, and Ruth came with a bottle of limoncello for Geoff's birthday. We enjoyed the powerful sips from larger cups, but a few weeks ago I saw these pretty five for two dollar glasses and I instantly knew what they would work for... limoncello anyone?

The cow and kitty creamers look like they are straining to get a sip. It is such a blessing to be easily amused.


Not amused.
Time's up. Kitty says so.
Enough random chattering from this Chickadee.
I am going to drink hot tea and go to bed, or the sofa, or maybe to the South Side, and nap with Betty.

Our Own Mountain
The giddy bliss of living here still finds new ways to make me deeply happy.


The south side of the house is fenced around and was once a dog run. When we moved in it was the bare, dry, sun-scorched zone that I mostly avoided, except to contemplate its ultimate purpose. Well, since all the great rain we've had, the area greened up, with weeds, and it is easier on the eyes, sheltered and appealing. I figured it might be a better place to house the *farm* until the lottery coughs-up barn money, so that is where I moved Betty and Joe... the south side.


What a great decision. Rather spontaneously I tore down the messed up shelter, then dragged coop and hutch across the lawn and around the corner of the house to their new zone. I can fence in Betty, while still giving her free-range space. Now the kitchen entry does not have to be a -ahem- POOP DECK. That is progress.


I think I can muster about 42% more interest in decorating and arranging my exterior farm, than for "normal" decorating. I hung some art, and dusted. Worked on the color scheme. Pulled weeds. Watered weeds. Accessorized weeds. My dear potting table of eleventy years was put in to service again. And as we sat back to soak in the loveliness, it occurred to me that by summer the green weeds will be toasted duff, and the loveliness will have lost most of its power over our hearts. It will be too bright, too hot, too dry to be a farmy nook for our livestock.


And so I brought home trees. More trees, and a planting box and trellis. Setback from the house, but not on the fence, in line with the west heading sun, I planted a Genoa White fig and a blood orange. The fig is a new variety to me, but blood oranges are a longtime sentimental and flavorful favorite. The fig is hilarious. It's a ten foot pole. It looks like the world's worst horticultural choice ever. It is a stick in the mud. Cracks me up.


The last feature of the south side is the mountain. In fact I think this whole thing merits caps. South Side Mountain was built by all the trenching, ditching, hole digging, earth moving labors of the Fall, when we were getting control of drainage and repairing sprinklers. I love saying "we." There is more digging in our future... and Geoff was going to have all of the dirt hauled away at once. But now that we have claimed South Side Mountain for ourselves, it shall remain right where it is. It will be a pumpkin mound, or seeded for wild flowers, or we will sink a fire pit and call it our own South Side Volcano.


In the meantime it is a quarry-castle-hole digging place. This makes me happy. I love dirt, and earth, the coolness and the warmth, the wealth of opportunity. Joe, the rabbit, was digging in the soil, then throwing himself in to the the loose dirt. Betty was having a record breaking dust bath. She looked euphoric in her rapture. I have waited seven years to witness and enjoy this liberty and earthly delight.


Max and Maria played for hours. I fell asleep beside Betty. Alex took a homework break and admitted he was not too old to want to join the dig. William too recognized the attraction of dirt play. I fondly recall his tunnels to China. I was afraid Max and Maria would not have this experience... freedom and ownership, time lost to being in the dirt, making stories and games, escaping to imagination. We have played, of course, at the beach and in other gardens. But the tunnel they made is still in their garden, not washed away by the tide, or collapsed by a careless landlord. No one will object to what they make, what they explore, what they tear down. It is their own.


I do not tell them that this is "special." I am not teaching them to see it in a particular way. I like them to make of it what they will, and my pleasure is in being a witness, being beside them, planting seeds.


There are many pleasures in life, many things to desire, and places to see, but this... being in our garden, listening to their plans and watching their play... this is one of my greatest pleasures.


New seeds, likes wishes and dreams in a packet.
There is so much goodness already sprouting and taking hold. I am deeply happy.