Eclipse in Idaho

After a couple semi-grueling days of driving, all of us are in Idaho, 11 miles south of Salmon in this lovely cottage:

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The scenery is nice:

Saturday, we went river rafting on the Salmon River:

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It was pretty. There was enough white water to drench (and therefore satisfy) the Caboose. There were a couple ‘holes’, one part of ‘the Table’ which was the most ‘whoa!’ part of the trip. It’s like these river raft types have an entire vocabulary to describe what they love. Lots of wildlife – mountain sheep, deer, elk, grouse, very impressive bald eagles, some native waterfowl or other.

Tomorrow: Mass at St. Charles in Salmon, then exploring, resting up, making sure our eclipse-viewing gear is in order (I’m going to try to assemble a viewing box out of cardboard boxes, a monocular, an old rake handle and duct tape – wish me luck). Then, Monday, crack of dawn or earlier, drive south about 100 miles to be in the center of the Zone of Totality (which would make a good metal band name).  Find a spot, watch the eclipse, pack up, head to Salt Lake City to put two of the kids on a plane back to LA for school/work. Then, down to Ely just because. Tuesday, over to Carson City. Look around, spend the night, then head home over the Ebbetts Pass – beautiful drive.

A lot of fun so far.

Home Improvement Projects: The Pizza Oven of Doom

So, this actually doesn’t happen all that often, but I’m pretty much completely funned out on the brick oven. Building the vault was just too darn difficult and time consuming to be much fun. Now, I need to A. build the front arch out of regular bricks; B, put on the insulation and chicken wire over that; C. stucco over that; and D. install and stucco around the decorative tiles.

Over the weekend, added the chimney base and the – what do you call that thing? – the slightly smaller front arch that acts as a lip to help the smoke go out the chimney and for the door (ultimately) to fit up against.

Looks like this:

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Front. Those semicircles are pieces of the support for the vault, and are here deployed to block off the opening for the smoke test. 
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Back. While the actual firebox is sealed up using refractory mortar, I went over the outside with regular mortar just to smooth it up some. Probably meaningless, seemed like a good idea at the time. 

We smoke-tested it, meaning we built a small fire inside to see if smoke leaked out anywhere it wasn’t supposed to. Not too bad, a few minor easily plugged gaps.

It will look pretty once it’s all stuccoed and the nice Mexican tiles are installed. This one goes on the side:

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11″ square – large. 

Wish I could find a nice San Jose tile for the back.

Thursday, we all – all four kids + parents + a sweet woman who lives with us, 7 total – leave to drive up to Idaho for the eclipse. We’ll stop in Elko, NV that evening, then leave for the Salmon River Friday. Saturday, we river raft; Sunday we find a church; Monday we drive for an hour or two down near Rexburg to maximize totality. Then it’s down to Salt Lake City to put two of the kids on planes to SoCal for school and a drive to Eli, NV for the night. Then it’s on to Carson City, NV, where we’ll probably sightsee and putter and spend the night. Finally, we’ll take Highway 89 to Highway 4 over Ebbitts Pass and past Lake Alpine – scenic doesn’t do it justice, 8,000’+ up in the forested granite mountains of the Sierra.

I’ll try to get my head cleared.

Kids These Days

Our delightful younger daughter (1) just turned 20 yesterday. When her mom asked her a couple weeks back what she wanted for her birthday, Laura (born on the Feast of St. Lawrence, ‘natch) Anna Kate, know as Anna Kate, thought about it, and decided: I want to jump out of an airplane.

Ooooo-kay.

After her usual practice, she researched, made a few calls and set it up. Skydive California is near Tracy, California, about an hour’s drive from Concord. She also asked her older brother Thomas to jump with her.

I took the day off to watch. On the morning of her birthday, we headed out to Tracy, and she and her brother jumped, as the certificate says, “out of a perfectly functioning aircraft.”

Before:

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With little brother David, A.K.A. the Caboose

Boarding the plane:

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Think that’s Anna Kate’s back…

After:

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I asked them to do that Right Stuff walk; Thomas pointed out that, with the jumpsuit and harness on, one can hardly walk any other way. 

As you can see, they came out of it in two perfectly functioning pieces.

*exhale*.

  1. Of course, all our kids are delightful in my totally unbiased opinion

Frivolous Friday Bullet Points

  • Briefly looked over the *97* draft blog posts in my backlog. But am I finishing or discarding any of them? Noooo! I’m drafting another one! Right here, right now!
  • I’ve previously mentioned the froo-froo snacks thing we have going at my place of employment. The company supplies all kinds of free goodies in each of two nice kitchenettes – one upstairs, one down. This bounty includes sodas, bottled waters, fruit nectars, greek yogurts, single-serving cheeses (3 kinds) along with nuts, party mix, granola bars, fresh fruit and on and on. For an office with around 20 people in it.
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Seriously? Does that look like a snack food to you? Or rather more like what you’d feed wintering livestock?

We’ve recently upped the ante from this already embarrassing bounty by adding ‘healthy’ snacks from a service that supplies them in a cute cardboard box/display every couple weeks. I am weak – I tried some: they range from pretty good (e.g., coconut something-something bars – yum!) to weird (e.g., ‘jerky’ that ended up being limp sticky maple flavored bacon – huh? Bacon = good; this = weird.), as you might expect.

But I do draw the line somewhere. I have nothing against kale, per se, even if I have occasionally and with some

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“A skeet of delicious organic goodness!” 

justification referred to it as ‘a weed with a marketing department’. But

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“This puck delivers 100% of the recommended daily dose of gulibilium.”

I’m not even going to try a snack leading with ‘Blueberry-Vanilla-Kale’ in big print. I have some principles.

Also, the Gucci snack industry’s crack delivery system mutation division can’t seem to settle on terminology: are these oh-so-hip snack units bars? cookies? skeet? pucks? I’d go with ‘wads’ – ‘a delicious wad of vanilla- infused blueberries enveloped in a healthful duvet of the finest kale’ – I might try THAT, once, anyway, out of sheer cussedness.

  • My daughter and I sometimes kid about efforts to be holy, in what I hope is a light and not-asking-to-get-struck-down-by-lightening way. We once came up with ‘redemptive mockery’ in response to the use of the term redemptive suffering for every little inconvenience: one might piously help out a fellow sinner by mocking them relentlessly, for their own good! Look at all the humility and patience to be gained! In a similar vein, living out here in California, we get pretty touchy-feely at Mass. People tend to hold hands at the Our Father, sometimes forming circles of people so joined. I refered to this as ‘redemptive kindergarten’ to said daughter, and had the satisfaction of watching her spend the next few moments fighting off a giggle fit. At Mass. Bad Daddy! Bad!
  • This may have to be my default GIF from here on out:
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(BTW: trying to get my arms around the morality of ‘borrowing’ gifs – this is a snippet of a movie somebody already borrowed, then turned the lines from the movie into text. So the only people who should be concerned are the movie rights owners – who, if they’ve got an ounce of business sense, are thrilled to see people reminded of their movie a million times a day. Ya know?)       

Politics? Education? Religion? Hey, the dumpster fires have to burn themselves out eventually, right? Right? PLEASE?!?

If you want to die at home, my advice would be, don’t go to a hospital. Perhaps this will strike gentle reader as a remark overweighted on the side of the obvious; but there is some method in some of my madness. So I will begin with a careful qualification: my advice holds for Canada, and the United Kingdom, but not for all of those Natted States. (I realize there are other jurisdictions.) And even there, the impossibility of fixing “Obamacare,” without further extending its “entitlement” provisions, shows the end is coming, soon. But in Canada and UK, the future has been here for some time.

The reason, of course, is that at these higher latitudes we have so-called “single-payer” “healthcare” systems in which, as we have been reminded lately, all decision-making is concentrated in the caring-sharing State, or as I prefer to call her, Twisted Nanny. Once the paperwork is complete, and the customer has progressed from the outer to the inner waiting rooms, he is entirely in her power. He may, after reviewing her apparatus (both surgical and managerial), want to go home and die there. But she is unlikely to release him, and it will require the assistance of loyal friends and family to effect the equivalent of a prison break. (Tip: staff tend to be at their least attentive during the conventional sleeping hours.)

You see, Twisted Nanny likes to watch people die. She can become quite annoyed when others appropriate this privilege. She also likes to kill people, and has gone to considerable trouble to establish a monopoly in this regard. And given her latest powers, under legislation for “euthanasia,” she prefers to do it in her own facilities. She doesn’t make house calls, the way they do in Red China.

Have a good weekend!

 

Friday. Link. Graph.

A. Good story here from Calah Alexander: Why you should let your kids take risks — especially when they might fail.

I’ve said that I’d never let my kids try a 10-day  (unsupervised European trip – ed) in college, because what if what could have been for me comes true for them? What if they get lost, or mugged? What if they make a poor decision, choose the wrong stop, and get stranded outside an airport in a blizzard? What if they need help and can’t find it?

That one major snafu on our 10-day happened at the end, when we missed our flight back to Rome because we got off the train at the wrong stop. The airport in Brussels wouldn’t let us spend the night inside, so we huddled against the building instead, trying to stay out of the snow. The only thing we had to eat was a backpack full of Cadbury chocolates that my roommate had gotten in London.

As a parent, this story is terrifying. But it’s one of my favorite memories. We made it back to Rome cold, tired, sick of Cadbury, but alive and newly aware of our own resilience (and of the importance of navigational skills).

Ironically, protecting our kids from the pain of failure is itself a failure. It’s failing to let them experience the life we know is coming at them, the life we can’t protect them from forever.

Real choices matter to the kid, are supported by the family, and have real consequences. Leave out any of those three things, and the choosing is an illusion.

One final thing to add: kids also need to see adults sticking with the results of their own decisions. If mommy and daddy are running away – from their responsibilities, their spouses, their own kids – it becomes pretty much a given that the kids will grow up into bitter, whiny irresponsible brats. We wouldn’t want that to happen.

B. Another chart showing something or other:

It’s from Pew, whose methodology is both widely respected and, to give them the benefit of the doubt,  hopelessly flawed. In general, unverified self reporting by the  sort of people willing to take polls, with no concern wasted considering if the responder is at all motivated to tell the truth. (1) The questions tacitly assume that the world really does fall into convenient polar positions on virtually every subject. Which would be really, really convenient – for pollsters. So don’t give Pew polls much weight, in general.

By happenstance, about the same time I saw this I read a quip somewhere, to the effect that ‘Sir,’ Ma’am,’ and ‘Thank you’ will get you farther than a bachelor’s degree. Had to wonder: what’s the overlap between those red bars above and people who would nod at the folk wisdom of that quip? I’d quibble that a bachelor’s in something real PLUS the proper use of sir, ma’am and thank you is the real winning strategy. Nevertheless, with Pew, is often not difficult to see which of the two either/or points of view they’re hammering the world into they want us to consider enlightened.

  1. I’ve wondered since the election about the reported 8% of blacks who voted for Trump. I believe the number was based on exit polls. Now, imagine, in the general atmosphere of the last election, if a black person would feel completely comfortable telling a stranger with a clipboard that he’d just voted for Trump. Not saying one way or the other about what the results show – just that the method used is ignoring a pretty big potential issue when it fails to account for social pressures, or just assumes they cancel out.

C. Something stupid for your possible amusement:

Something about rabbits and chickens, creatures with largely unearned reputations as pacifists, going all Wild West there’s-a-new-sheriff-in-town that cracks me up a little.  One struggles a little coming up with the proper Darwinian just-so story that explains such odd behavior away.  Why are the chickens not content to let the rabbits kill each other if they want to? Have they adopted them, somehow?

D. Apologies. This is plain stupid. This is what an adolescent sense of humor,  + <45 seconds of  web searching  + <10 minutes of  MS Paint will get you:

Female lawmakers ‘bare arms’ in sleeveless attire to support new House dress code

Bear Arms

A Psychological Aside

Once upon a time, I read way too much psychology (general conclusion: 98% claptrap), but one writer who impressed me (1) was fallen away Freudian Alice Miller. Her basic argument was that the instinct to belong and to learn the ropes are so strong – it’s a life or death issue for children – that abused kids 1) believe whatever they need to believe in order to have a place in the ‘family’ and 2) will incorporate the behaviors they observe and suffer under into their view of themselves and the world. Result: excuses get perpetuated, and abuse gets passed on from generation to generation.

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Alice Miller

What I like about this argument is that it’s fundamentally Darwinian: we’re not asked to believe based on ‘insights’ available only to the enlightened, we are asked to consider a child’s environment from an evolutionary/survival perspective. What have human children had to do to survive to reproduce? They need to stay joined to the family/tribe that assures their survival. They’re dead if they don’t. They need to find mates and raise children themselves or they’re out of the gene pool. The tribe (broadly considered) is where they’ll do those things, if they do them.

Now we reach the modern age, where simple survival is so easy that almost any amount of crazy behavior doesn’t get one killed. Parents used to need to take great care that their children would not only survive to adulthood, but had a place in the tribe once they did – otherwise, they lose the survival game one step removed, when their offspring fail to produce offspring.  We all come from a long line of successful reproducers.

Raised, as one woman I know was, by a single mom with 4 siblings each by different fathers? She has a baby, who is very likely to survive. Raised by the crazy grandmother who raised your even crazier mom? Still on the market. Cast aside like garbage when mom decides she’s tired of dad, and then given an ultimatum: actively approve of mom’s actions if you want to have any relationship with her? Done! And these are comparatively minor issues, almost beneath the notice of the properly conditioned modern mind. The bar keeps getting lower. The more serious abusers – Marion Zimmer Bradley, for example – are having their behavior normalized. Miller would have predicted this.

The scary part, according to Miller: these kids are very likely to repeat exactly what was done to them, because that’s what they absorbed as children! To do otherwise is to break the treaty, to reopen the wounds. Besides, what else would they do? What other behavior do they know? Thus, children left with relatives who molested them are very likely to leave their own children with relatives who will molest them; children molested by parents are likely to molest their children. Sadly, I have personally seen this type of behavior.

This is not rational – not something people understand and decide to do – but is rather the result of seeing no other option – if, in fact, the behavior even rises to a conscious level. Miller says that, in her experience, the presence of some sympathetic witness is key. If somebody at some point is able to let the kid know that this is not normal nor acceptable, that the kid is not crazy or evil, then the likelihood of resistance and recovery is greatly increased.(2) Other than that, we hope and pray for a miracle of healing.

All of these horror stories have introduced a line of reasoning which,  when applied in general and to less traumatic situations, leads to and converges with a lot of what’s going on in the world. Here’s a brief list of topics where I think Miller’s logic is enlightening:

  • The tribalism of American politics. The level of vehemence is pre-rational. Rare is the person, it seems, whose political positions are based on anything other than tribal allegiance, which is instilled in the cradle.
  • Stockholm Syndrome. You believe what you need to believe to survive and belong.
  • Public Schooling. Defended on purely theoretical grounds, even when real-world criticism is acknowledged. It’s one thing to admit mommy and daddy have flaws, another entirely to suggest we get rid of them. Thus, public schooling is routinely admitted to be a disaster AND something we must enthusiastically support. To admit it is merely an abusive system of control would be to question our own place in the tribe.
  • Attacks on marriage. What could be more hurtful (and a greater cause of painful cognitive dissonance) than to insist that marriage is between a man and a woman for the sake of children and culture, when we all know it’s just an arrangement of convenience for any number of more or less serial mommies and daddies?

When I write about school, politics, and culture, Alice Miller’s analysis is always there, more or less in the background.

  1. My main problem with Miller is that she had not fallen away enough from Freud. She realized that his theorizing was wild overreach, but often failed to stop herself from doing the same sort of stuff. She did an entire book where she applied her modified form of psychoanalysis on a bunch of dead people – you know, based on their writings or art and other people’s biographies. Iffy, to put it mildly.
  2. I wonder if a particularly resilient and intelligent child couldn’t find his sympathetic witness through reading? Seems possible.

Happy 4th! Weekend Update

A happy and blessed fourth to you and yours. Two thoughts on patriotism: first, *you* are the pater, the father, to your country. Your job is to look after your country. It is not your country’s job to look after you. Second, and related, is something Chesterton said (paraphrasing drastically): that a patriot hopes to be worthy of the great gift of his own country. I would go so far as to say: a patriot, as any father, should hope and strive to be worthy of his own child.

Note that there’s nothing much individualistic about this attitude:  no sane man could hope to take care of an entire nation on his own, but rather should hope to care for the little corner that has fallen to his responsibility, and should seek out the company of good men and women who strive to be responsible for theirs. Together, we try to keep the long-term health of our nation in sight. This is the true meaning of a republic, a commonwealth: we have received our great nation as a gift, and with it the duty to make sure that we can also give it as a gift.

On to the more mundane. The weather today was perfect: low 80s, low humidity, light breeze. We had both brunch and dinner on the back patio under the shade of our massive walnut tree:

For brunch, Younger Daughter made blueberry pancakes with fresh strawberry syrup and whipped cream – red, white and blue. For dinner, fresh guacamole, burgers, tomatoes and cucumbers from the garden, home made sweet potato fries. After dinner, we did an hour of Adoration at a local church, then caught some fireworks, then came home to Younger Daughter’s home made Baked Alaska – she made vanilla ice cream with strawberry, raspberry and Macadamia nut brownie swirls – outrageously good.

One of the best 4ths we’ve ever had.

On the Home Improvement front, over this weekend: (This is so ridiculous I’ll put in a break to make it easier to skip over. Really, amateur hour at the hardware store. Fascinating. )

Continue reading “Happy 4th! Weekend Update”