Purposeless Dry Erase Board?

A glowing white dry erase board! What an interesting thing! A blank canvas equipped with an array of colored markers and magnetic erasers gets parents so excited. We envision black, red, even purple swirled in a mess of quotes? lists? silly drawings? Fun, thoughtful and responsible parents we are! All really in effort to motivate or briefly inspire our kids.

Tonight it hit me like a heavy brick tossed by an angry overworked mason. The dry erase board will soon see brighter days! To hell with the itemized "chores" list for kids.

My motivation for getting right with the blog? (Thanks, Lucinda) I was told tonight, by the 13 year old boy, that if I want him to feed his animals when he has cleaned his cages early on Sunday, to "write it on the board". Are you fucking kidding me? So in addition to "clean the cages" which entails replenishing food & water, I need to whip-out my marker for clarification? Lame ass dependency and an interesting stalling technique at 9:00 p.m. on a school night. Especially when cleaning a cage & feeding the rats has gone hand in hand for years now...Call me crazy, or having expectation but "I forgot" doesn't work too well.

One can imagine how much we adults enjoy being told what to do by a child, let alone a 13 year old pre-pubescent boy.

Repetition forms habit. So shame on me! Writing essentially the same thing on Mr. Board for the past 2 months with brief deviation has run its course. Now I have kids instructing me what to write on a board because it's not specific enough? If I didn't write "wipe your ass after you poo", then you shouldn't do it?

Weekly I monitor both kids and give them direction when needed. I believed the dry erase board would be a positive, central place for all of us. I mean...it's hard core! Very militant. Super extreme. Just the way we live our lives. Haha! Most weekends as I write on Mr. Board, I laugh at my meager requests. MY parents never wrote shit on a board. I also had the pleasure of cleaning in the late 70's and 80's, when we kiddies didn't have laptops, desktops, iPhones, iTunes, iPods, cell phones, texting and xbox for inspiration. I don't think Larry & Jodie Clarke even wrote chores down. They just laid it out! I routinely had to vacuum, clean all 3.5 bathrooms including the toilets (yes, and my Dad's), cotton swab 20-30 plants and their leaves with spray, dust all the furniture, mow the lawn, help shovel and take care of my own space. Hell, they probably had me write my own damn chore list. In the end, my incentive was about downhill skiing and equipment, bits of freedom in Girdwood and Anchorage over the weekends, a very small allowance, sleepovers & lots of outdoor time with friends.

Since I'm so old now, I'm certain I'm forgetting other chores. Let's face it ~ it was a bit of a different time and I was an only child (apart from my 3 much older half sisters). I used to beg my parents to have more children. I could've sworn they were advocates for child slave labor...especially with their middle to upper class financial status! Truth? They just happened to understand that teaching an only kid some discipline would ignite the value of hard work and reward. It did! At the end of the day, my contribution was just part of the deal I had with them. But so freaking what?! How many parents focus on that today? We expect less from our kids now because they're more privileged? It's bullshit. Wait, maybe I'm bullshit.

The board that I'm so at odds with? Well...Mr. Board reads something like this...

Dear Boy & Girl,

Please do the following!

*Clean your portion of the bathroom; sink, counter & mirror

*Bedding & Clothes to the laundry room

*Fold Laundry, put it away

*Clean your hamster/chinchilla cages and vacuum your room

INSERT the quote and a thank you!

Time to change tactics and have the kids replace their chores on the dry erase with a bit of their own forward thoughts. Time to give them that responsibility without the control of a stupid board. The $5.00 allowance on a Sunday night will still be their's for the taking upon completion.

Thinking their lofty goals might look like a combination of...

Professional Paint ball Sniper with Monster Sponsorship

Lead singer in a female Rock Band

Pilot's License by Age 21

Attend Dramatic Arts School and audition in L.A. or N.Y.C.

Learning a foreign language as a student abroad

Math genius

In any case, this is a lesson in using the board more wisely as a parent and as a kid. The dry erase board still holds purpose, but that of goals & inspiration, not control.

Re-tasting Austin

After an early 3:30 a.m. wake up call, Sloan and I put the finishing touches on our packing and were delivered to the 4:45 a.m. Bainbridge-Seattle ferry by Gary's Taxi Service.  Getting up so early isn't too bad when you know you'll be airborne for Austin, Texas at 7:10 a.m.!  

Our trip south has a certain bittersweetness.  We'll spend time together for the first few days with Lynda, Olivia, Esteban and Isaac Gonzales.  They are as close to family as they come and long time Austin friends.  We're sure to have many adventures including snow cones, Barton Springs, plentiful and cheap authentic Mexican, live music, running Town Lake in the humidity and lots of play and laughter.  Come Sunday, however (Father's Day coincidentally) Sloan will be picked up at noon by her Dad for a 2 month stint with him, her stepmom and new half brother (who was born just 2 weeks ago).  I'm content to know Sloan will have much needed time with the other part of her family...but, I will miss her this summer!  August 30th will mark her return date to Bainbridge Island and in the meantime I look forward to those intermittent texts, emails and facebook postings.

Onward to Austin!

Troublesome Gloom, Really?

As I sit here at my mahogany colored makeshift desk, I wonder how I got here.  Here being the Pacific Northwest.  North of Portland, west of Seattle, on this little island called Bainbridge.  In all seriousness, I know how I got here.  By choice, for something greater than I had before.  Above four wheels, via the highway.  Endlessly I could plug this island, but today I am troubled, tortured and not the biggest fan.  Why?  Well, mainly because of the weather.  It's windy, spitting rain and the massive amounts of grey clouds are unstoppable in their path of sky born fury.  I search for the crystal like, yellow beams I like to call sun but there are none.  None!  The temperature?  Well the thermometer reads consistently over 40 degrees in the morning and hovers in the mid 50's throughout the day.  If you're recovering from an Interior Alaska winter, this would in fact be a place similar to heaven on earth.  But it doesn't work that way for me.  

My mood?  It hasn't been the best as of late.  I'm unable to go as far as to describe my mood as toxic but when you place 4 individuals in a house that prefer heat, blue sky and 90 degrees, clearly it takes more effort to detoxify.  Instead I'll refer to my mood as gloomy.  Gloomy.  Dismally and depressingly dark.  Like Bainbridge.  Well okay, not quite that far gone.  Having a frowning or scowling appearance.  Okay, that description works on todays date.  Grrrr!  So I embellish a bit.  

On these gloomy days I can't help but retrieve memories of my Alaska Training.  Training was really living, but in retrospect it seems the plugging of my car, wearing a face mask and utilizing hand and feet warmers was ludicrous!  All in effort to survive sub zero temperatures and I was there by choice.  No wonder I moved to the inevitably warmer climate of Austin, Texas for a number of years.  But I have to say the never ending grey gloom of this place called the Pacific Northwest is tougher than any winter experienced in Alaska.  I mean, come on!  At least tossing hot coffee out a Fairbanks window at -40 degrees gives you an appreciation for what the weather can do.     

So cross legged I sit donning my black Teva flip flops, hoping for something like summer to appear.  I stop to look around.  Pretty much business as usual at 4:30 p.m. on a Monday.  My 10 year old has a friend over and they're playing in the hot tub and pool in the back of the house (pretending they're nearer the equator).  The 12 year old boy is watching the ever gore-filled CSI (set in Miami or Las Vegas, no doubt).  Mr. Handsome has just started our 130th wood burning fire, in as many days (clearly a record on the island).  The Akita is resting but guarding our business as usual.  In the time taken to write I've noticed just the slightest change in the gloomy weather.  A few hurried gusts followed by the constant clashing of wind chimes.  Perhaps an announcement of crystal like yellow beams?  I stretch my neck upward and peer out the sky light, hoping for a ray, a beam, a glimmer of sun.  A touch of blue appears.  For a moment the gloom has dissipated.      

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...

After a typical weekday afternoon of ushering both kids in from school, I slipped back into homework-nazi mode, only to realize I'd failed to remove frozen chicken from our industrial sized freezer.  Grilling and veggies at home?  No!  Alas, an undeniable pull to a new restaurant on Bainbridge Island called Penelope's.  Just opened a week but boasting home cooked Italian dishes, we left the confines of our home with open minds and hungry bellies.

What do real estate experts and wannabes always say?  Location, Location, Location!  Penelope's is easy to find from the ferry terminal ~ take a left on Winslow Way, a right on Madison Avenue and a left into the Pavilion where the movie theater and other local businesses are located.  Penelope's is nestled in between Chinese and Mexican eateries on the 1st floor.

Upon entering Penelope's I quickly embraced the deeply muted lights, dark colored tables, richly painted red walls and racks of wine perfectly assembled near an open and buzzing kitchen.  Discreet touches including multi-colored mosaic candleholders and reddish-yellow glass blown hanging lamps left me nodding approval.  Penelope's had succeeded in supplying an exceptional first impression.  One of the first groups to arrive, our party of four was greeted by a young gal who quickly ushered us to an oversized back table, in what I would consider a lackluster area.  Bummer!  Unfortunately the up front moody ambience was not duplicated in the rear.  Although we love our sporadic sunlight in the Pacific Northwest, dark window treatments and air vent coverings would be a lovely touch and might soften this portion of the restaurant, lending to the overall atmosphere.  Feeling a bit misplaced, we then requested an intimate booth nearer the front, closer to the kitchen.  Better and now a bit more "Accalorato!"

Presented with easy to read menu's by our Italian word dropping server, Pat, my incredibly handsome date and I opted for two glasses of Chianti.  Reasonably priced and suitably paired with our Antipasto, this signified the beginning of our Italian meal.  The plate included cured meats (prosciutto, ham & salami), various cheeses (provolone & gouda) and delicious spreads (spoonfuls of goat cheese, pesto and bruschetta).  More please!  By far my favorite part of the meal and affordable, at under $10.00.  We opted to pair the Antipasto with an order of perfectly baked breadsticks and lemon garlic butter ($3) which was an ideal compliment and a hit with the kids.

To my surprise and always an added bonus, the Proprietor and Head Chef, Will Lawrence Grant stopped by to welcome us to Penelope's (named after his wife and Co-Proprietor) and answered menu questions.  He did a fantastic job of explaining his ingredients for bolognese and puttanesca (among other dishes) and then told us a story of cooking gouda mac and cheese for all the neighborhood kids.  Gotta like a man who makes scratch smokey mac!

After Chef Will left us in favor of the bustling kitchen, Server Pat reappeared to take our entree orders.  By this time the joint was really filling up and staff a scurrying!  The 10 year old was first to place her order ~ a dependable Spaghetti and Meatballs as offered on the kids menu.  For convenience all children's items are affordable at $5.00 a plate and aim to please a finicky demographic.  Their selection includes pizza, lasagne and other pastas.  Fortunately the 10 year old seemed satisfied and after I snuck a taste of the zesty meatball, could see why.  Very flavorful and tasty!

Next up was the 12 year old who has made a habit of forgoing any interest in the kids menu or crayons and orders with the adults.  His choice, the Veal Marsala ($15) with Risotto.  Unfortunately the Veal was hitless with the 12 year old and everyone else at our table.  Expecting something tender and flavorful this plate was near impossible to stomach and ended up in our napkins.  Server Pat was overloaded with tables and hardly nodded acknowledgment when we revealed the dish was less than substandard.  The Risotto on the other hand was flavorful and a success, but not enough to save or compliment the young calf.

That handsome date I mentioned?  Well his hunger was up next.  Contemplating for a moment the family style portion ($15) he opted instead for the individual mass of Baked Pasta ($9) with the addition of Italian Sausage ($3).  Good to know a majority of Penelope's pasta dishes come in a larger size, always ideal for sharing with several.  Typically a critic (unless it's Asian influenced) I could tell Mr. Handsome had an adequate first bite.  After stealing my own off his plate, I savored the hint of ricotta, parmesan and sausage infused marina.  All in all a dependable presentation.

My turn!  After shuffling between two or three pasta dishes, I finally decided on an individual plate of Puttanesca ($8), also known as "whores pasta."  The name of this dish originated in Naples after the local women of easy virtue.  Hmmm!  "Puttanesca" translates in Italian to "pasta, the way a whore would make it."  I think it has something to do with the smell ~ I'm just saying.  I found this dish robustly flavored with capers, anchovies and red chili but the portion of sauce was inadequate to please my bowl full of rigatoni.  More sauce would've easily given this dish a B+ to an A-.

The icing on the cake wasn't quite dessert.  Our bellies were so full from wine, appetizers and entrees we instead opted for the comedy of Server Pat.  He was most happy to deliver our final bill (yes, the veal was part of the ticket) while uttering Italian words or quips, such as "Excellente" and "Here is some light reading for you!"  We eventually paid and scattered, putting our Italian meal to bed.

Pros:  Atmosphere & Decor, Open Kitchen, Service, Antipasto, Kids Menu

Cons:  Not enough quality control out of the kitchen or by Server

Suggestions:  Add a few barstools so patrons can enjoy wine & app's while peeking into a VERY cool kitchen

          

Penelope's ~ 403 Madison Ave., Bainbridge Island, WA (1st floor at the Pavilion)

The Reward, as I see it...

In approximately 20 days, Sloan and I will embark on a 2300 mile journey from Austin, Texas to Seattle, Washington.  This will no doubt be a road trip like none other because we're relocating, leaving, exiting the Lone Star State for greener pastures.  When people ask "Why?" my favorite and most precise response is, "For Love!"  And that is the truth.    

After 7 years in the Capitol of Texas, we head to the Pacific Northwest in our medium sized SUV, with hitch and trailer attached.  I've had many suggest selling my possessions and starting over, but with age I've become attached.  To my hand crafted bookshelf built by Dave Laird, that 13 year old dining set purchased in Alaska and the four antique ice cream chairs found at some random antique store for $200.00.  I don't have 15,000 pounds of belongings, but what I do have means something to me.        

So with our limited time in Austin, we now immerse ourselves amongst our favorite friends, places and things, holding this city dear to our hearts.  In the same breath we look forward to our future and all its possibilities.  To create a family and to share a love that is true, kind and real with not just my lover and friend, but with our children, is the reward...

  

  

A Flower to Appreciate

Ralph Waldo Emerson

THE RHODORA:

On Being Asked, Whence Is the Flower?

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes,

I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods,

Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook,

To please the desert and the sluggish brook.

The purple petals, fallen in the pool,

Made the black water with their beauty gay;

Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool,

And court the flower that cheapens his array.

Rhodora!  if the sages ask thee why

This charm is wasted on the earth and sky,

Tell them, dear, that if eyes were made for seeing, 

Then Beauty is its own excuse for being:

Why thou were there, O rival of the rose!

I never thought to ask, I never knew:

But in my simple ignorance, suppose

The self-same Power that brought me there brought you.

Unifying Pub Crawl for Democrats

The local gang in Austin which supports Barack Obama for President recently planned a grassroots unifying event for the Democratic Party.  Obama supporters started at one pub and Clinton's at another.  Unifying?  Still a showdown in ways.  Think Club de Ville offering Obama-rama Ritas and Barack Beers adjacent to Bull McCabes Irish Bar serving up Hillary Harp Pints and Irish Mules with a Clinton Kick.  Painting Austin's Red River Street "blue" was the event slogan, but the goal?  Get both camps a bit sauced and unity will follow.  Actually unity from the Clinton folks.  They're the ones who must unify, right? 

 

So now that the dust has settled and a Nominee has emerged from this sordid political mindscream, most Democrats can only imagine their kind in office.  With that said rallying HRC supporters seems a logical move.  So does capturing her 18 million votes.  To me it's a toss-up.  BO needs what HRC has.  Will Obama and Caroline Kennedy consider Clinton as his running mate or encourage her back to the Senate floor?  It's certainly not a crazy idea, but at what cost to Obama and the election?  He's new to politics, inspiring, and vows to make a difference.  He goes against the grain of the career political machine called Clinton and Washington D.C.  Should he bring the machine on to insure a win and in doing so compromise his own integrity?  Or does he really need the white working class vote and a bulldog in a running mate named Hil? Unless the Democratic Party truly unifies, Obama's association with Clinton might just make him lose.