Tag: Lydia

The Lydster: Twisting by the pool

She suckeredencouraged her mother and me to actually set up the pool

SwimmingpoolOne of my brothers-in-law and his family had an above-ground swimming pool. But because they were scheduled to move, related to his new job, the family gave US the contraption.

And in our backyard, the parts sat. There were, no exaggeration, 80 pieces listed in the manual, none to scale, and I had neither the time nor the inclination to sort it out.

This is a bit ironic since there USED to be an area in the backyard, bricked off, where an above-ground pool once resided.

The Daughter meticulously marked all the parts in some color-coordinated system that I could not decipher. She ascertained that there were at least a half dozen pieces missing, which we subsequently got from my BIL.

Then she suckeredencouraged her mother and me to actually set up the pool, even though I’m not particularly handy, certainly not as accomplished as she is. And sure enough, the pool pieces all eventually fit together, with her doing the bulk of the work.

We filled up the pool, as it turned out, ONE DAY before an emergency ban in the city of Albany, and neighboring towns, on use of water for that, and several other non-essential purposes such as handwashing one’s car. A sinkhole and a resulting water main break a few blocks away diminished the available water supply.

The Daughter loves being in the pool, even on those evenings that don’t seem that warm, though we have had our patch of hot and humid weather. She is not a particularly proficient swimmer, but she loves doing acrobatic activities in the water.

We haven’t done all the requisite activities. There’s a desalination system (wha? we didn’t use saltwater) but it has been a boon to the Daughter’s fitness, and perhaps more important, her spirit.

Listen to
Twisting by the Pool – Dire Straits

That was the week that was: late August

The guests gave our host unsolicited advice on romance.

The curse of a daily blog is that life sometimes gets in the way. I STILL haven’t written about the rest of the July vacation, which I will eventually do, not for your sake, but for my own. So as a blog cheat, I’m going to note the week that was, now a couple weeks ago.
allshookup
Before that: Heck, I haven’t mentioned the TWO plays I saw the FIRST weekend in August. The first was All Shook Up at Proctors Theatre in Schenectady, featuring one of my teenage nieces. It was a mix of Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and Elvis Presley and worked surprisingly well.

The other was Into the Woods at the Mac-Hadyn Theatre. With our front-row seats, sometimes the action was over our left shoulders, and sometimes (Little Red Riding Hood being devoured), it was so close we could almost touch it. But what we decided, after having the movie and this production, is that the story isn’t compelling enough to see again any time soon.

As for this past week, a few months ago, parents-in-law had arranged all of the families of their three surviving children to a timeshare in western Massachusetts. You make plans in May for the end of August, and they don’t always work out. One brother-in-law couldn’t make it for work reasons.

We delayed our departure on Saturday so we could attend a rededication of the marriage of Rosaline and David in our church. It had elements of a Cameroonian service, and it fun, but unfortunately, we couldn’t stay for the reception, as we went out to Hancock, MA.

We had been there nine years ago, and there wasn’t much to do. The highlight then was watching trucks bring parts of the first of what are now several wind towers. Now, there’s tennis and other amenities. But I never used any of them.

The next morning, the Wife and I went back to Albany. The choir, heavy on sopranos, but light on men, sang at the funeral service of our friend Margaret Hannay. We sang Lord, Make Me an Instrument of Thy Peace by John Rutter. I had difficulty singing:
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

My spouse then went BACK to Hancock, but I stayed in town, and attended a party our friend Jon threw, where the guests gave our host unsolicited, contradictory, but brilliant advice on romance.

Monday, I took off from work, but I had a professional development project to work on. I had a Friends of the Library meeting at 5 pm, followed by a meeting to give some expert feedback on the operations of the library. That evening, I needed to write a letter to an organization requesting speakers that HAD to be done THAT NIGHT.

Tuesday, work, then slog through professional development project until 9 pm.

Wednesday, work. The Wife and Daughter had just gotten home, but we needed to leave immediately for junior high orientation, which I had totally forgotten about. The school district is now engaging CDTA to provide bus service for the morning, and first afternoon routes, instead of the oft-unreliable bus company used in the past. The greatest challenge was the combination locker, which none of us could open with any regularity.

Thursday, work. I got a desperate request from my old boss to transcribe an interview with a friend of mine. The link didn’t work in Google Chrome, though I discovered by trial and error, it did operate in Firefox and Internet explorer. The interview turned out to be 90 minutes long, and with the time I wasted figuring out how to hear the piece, needed and fortunately found some help.

Friday, work. Transcription, interrupted by the Daughter not feeling well.

Saturday, transcription, edit transcript, tend to daughter still feeling poorly. You can tell she’s off when she pulls out her large unicorn to cuddle and asks Oscar the monkey to talk with her.

The only blogging I did was to write the intro for ABC Wednesday.

That was the week that was.

F is for Fireworks

Recently, I’ve been satisfied watching fireworks on TV.

Colorful fireworks lighting the night sky
Colorful fireworks lighting the night sky

I’m OK with a modicum of fireworks on the 4th of July. I’m less thrilled with them on the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd of the month, and I heard LOTS of fireworks in my neighborhood before Independence Day. I’m with Ken Levine when he says, “Why the hell do people buy home fireworks?”

A recent change in New York State Penal Law now allows for the sale and use of a specific category of consumer fireworks known as Sparkling Devices, ground based or handheld devices “that produce a shower of colored sparks and or a colored flame, audible crackling or whistling noise and smoke” of a certain size.

“Sale and use of Sparkling Devices will be legal only in counties and cities that have enacted a local law…” Albany County was the 37th county to pass such an ordinance in May 2016. This explains the display at the local CVS pharmacy of late, which did not used to be the case.

Recently, I’ve been satisfied watching fireworks on TV while The Wife and The Daughter travel 75 miles to my in-laws’ house in Oneonta and watch the festivities there. But because they were home this year, traveling two days later, the Daughter wanted to see pyrotechnics.

We all went out, hearing the explosions, but unable to see any fancy colors except the local illicit models. The Wife went home, but the Daughter and I found a field with a fairly decent view of the fireworks from the Empire State Plaza from behind the high school.

But the more local items blowing up were LOUD. A series of items that sounded like gunfire. In fact, if someone WANTED to commit murder, it’d be a decent time.

As we got closer to the school, we noticed what I initially thought was a furnace I had never seen before. But no, it was a fully-engulfed Dumpster fire. And the adjacent shack was smoldering. Fortunately, the Fire Department arrived before I was able to call.

On our walk home, we saw a young couple with her toddler daughter, throwing something out on the street. When cars would ride over the area, it sounded as they had blown a flat tire. Often, the driver would swerve from being startled; I’m glad no one got hurt.

I was ready to go home. I was most worried about someone detonating something and deafening me or my daughter.

The best way I could describe it was as a fairly civilized war zone.

ABC Wednesday – Round 19

The Lydster, Part 147: Oh, nuts!

This doesn’t alter our protocol in terms of looking for allergens in foods.

Mixed NutsWhen she was about three, we discovered that the Daughter was allergic to peanuts. We discovered this after we ascertained that she’d had peanut butter (one sandwich, one cookie) under someone else’s care.

Frustratingly, we had been following the then-conventional wisdom to have her avoid the legume. Current thinking is that she should have been introduced to them earlier.

This spring, she was retested for peanuts, and she is still allergic to them, though her reaction was less than the last time she was checked. She’s not a good candidate for those peanut allergy cures you may have seen in the news.

Worse, she also tested positive this last visit for several tree nut allergies and now must avoid having them as well. This doesn’t alter our protocol in terms of looking for allergens in foods, though. Since peanuts and tree nuts are often processed in the same place, we’ve been preemptively avoiding those as well. Has THIS backfired?

Her doctor says, at her age, she is likely to have both of these allergies for the rest of her life. No change to medication – still keeping the Epi-pen and Benadryl at the ready, at same doses.

This has to be a drag for her because it sets her apart from others. Still, with all the various allergies to foods in our extended family, to gluten, and to dairy, she’s at least in the same boat as her cousins, e.g.

The Lydster, Part 146: art and artist

Lydia.orangedesignSo This happened back in February 2016; text courtesy of the Albany School News Network:

“Student works inspired by the famed modern art collection at the Empire State Plaza will be showcased through March 20 in the plaza’s South Concourse.

“Some 258 pieces of art by City School District of Albany students from kindergarten through eighth grade are on display at the plaza in celebration of National Youth Art Month. The display consists of artwork from all 15 district elementary and middle schools, as well from 11 other Capital Region school districts.

“On display are student reinterpretations of the modern masters whose works are featured on the walls and in the spaces of the plaza.” The Daughter had two pieces in the show.

The first design was supposedly in the style of Calvert Coggeshall (1907-1990), an abstract painter from Whitesboro, Oneida County in upstate New York.

The second item was reportedly reminiscent of Kenneth Nolan (1924-2010), originally from Ashville, North Carolina. Our friend Alexis, who took the pictures, and I thought it was more like some of the work of Jasper Johns, born in 1930 in Augusta, Georgia.

The Daughter had heard of NONE of these artists. She was just doing what interested her.

The medium for these pieces was duct tape. She had made little purses made of the material for her mother and a friend this past Christmas.

Lydia_flag

There was to be a group picture of the young artists present at the Empire State Plaza. The Daughter was reluctant to participate for some reason until her teacher, Ms. Rhatigan, who I met for the first time that day, encouraged her to do so.

Incidentally, “The Empire State Plaza Art Collection consists of 92 modern art paintings, sculptures, and tapestries that were bought in the late 1960s to early ’70s, including works from Alexander Calder, Franz Kline, Joan Mitchell, Jackson Pollock, and Mark Rothko.”

Her flag piece was also chosen for the Albany Institute of History and Art’s school show in May.

Ramblin' with Roger
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