Grandpa gets to work!

After almost two weeks of lounging in the hammock, Grandpa announced that our backyard (the space along the Family Video wall to be specific) needed serious gardening attention. It is a space that we have neglected, mainly because the task of transforming it into something worth looking at seemed too daunting, if not impossible. Since it takes more than an expensive and difficult task to frighten Grandpa, we were given strict instructions: buy many large, expensive shrubs that like shade (rhododendrons and azaleas) plus many, many vines that like to attach to steep, dry, shaded walls (two kinds of ivy) plus a large list of pretty flowering things. First thing first: I pulled down a make-shift trellis that we had created when we first moved here and trimmed down the few vines that I had managed to keep alive; meanwhile, Simon and Grandpa set to work digging a dozen or so very large, deep holes (in soil that hadn't been dug in since the buildings were constructed, I think). We were then told to fill them up with water, followed by compost (first time our 11 year old compost pile has been put to use!), then the plant, then more compost then, a nifty Grandpa invention: a plastic bottle with the bottom cut off and stuck in to the ground upside down. The theory is that when we water we fill up the bottle and the water goes straight to the roots rather than wash away on the ground surface. Meanwhile, Simon was instructed to clear out the entire compost pile and scatter it along the wall. This pile was about 4' high, at least 5' deep and 7' side to side; there was a LOT of compost to shift. So far Simon has moved about 7 wheelbarrows worth, and it is about half-done. Then on top of that, we have been told to layer all the bark that has fallen off the wood we burn in winter that is now covering the floor of our garage. And to think I was going to put it all in sacks and have the garbage men haul it away! Of course, we've been treated with record high temps, record high humidity and so the work is slow and sweaty. It's sort of like being on HGTV (which I discovered while staying in a hotel in NY during that recent conference and became addicted to within a few minutes) only a lot slower. Other people get total home makeovers done in 30 minutes (and they never look sweaty) but this has taken us 4 days so far, and we aren't done yet. (Interesting piece of trivia: We found out that the bushes that do stunningly well in our backyard are beauty bushes (Bordines delivered a bevy of bushes and one of the guys agreed to take a snip back to home base and consult with the experts there) and simply cannot be found for love or money in gardening centers now because, although all the fashion in the 1920s, they are no longer "the thing." Who knew there were shrub fads?) We promise annual updates on south-wall developments in future blogs so everyone interested can see how these efforts will, in the long run, pay off.

New Cars!

Here we are at the Toyota dealer, already hot, crazed from stress and exhausted from trying to make decisions. We set out to visit Honda, Nissan and Toyota, all of which are within a mile or so of one another in Grand Blanc. As we set out, Simon said, "Now be prepared to walk away." Having a clearer sense of self than Simon has of himself, I said, "I can't walk away." Simon then said, "Oh, we're walking away. So get used to it." About 20 minutes after arriving at Toyota we had made our decision, and no one did any walking away.  (This is the last photo of Jami's 1997 Nissan Altima, which has taken us from Arkansas [where we bought it in, I believe, 1999] to Michigan to Los Angeles to Schenectady (sp?).  Jami was brutally unsentimental about it.  So were the Toyota people, who gave us $500 trade-in for it, two days after we spent $600 getting the alternator and battery replaced...) 
Here is Perry, our salesman. He was genuinely nice and not at all pushy or slimy.
 And here they are: The red car is my BRAND NEW (its mileometer/odometer read, I kid you not, 26 miles) Yaris (which is a silly name for a car) which was a bargain and we got with 0% interest!!!! The Prius is a 2008 (40-odd thousand miles) and was even cheaper, they were practically giving it away. Given what they sell for new and that the people we know who have one had to wait weeks for it to arrive, I can't believe they had one on the lot. Simon gets the Prius which comes with a fancy-pants touch screen to control audio and air conditioning it also tells us his mileage--so far he is getting 46.8 miles to the gallon, and that is while running errands around town. We can't wait to find out what he is going to get while driving to Ann Arbor!

Thomas has already spent hours sitting in my car, playing his DSi and whatever other secret little things he has always gotten up to while sitting in our cars on a hot summer day.  (There will be NO BASKING ON THE ROOF of the new cars!)  We alternate between beaming with joy at the pleasure of driving something that isn't rattling so loudly you can't hear yourself think, and feeling sick clenches in our stomachs at the idea of how much money we'll be paying out over the next five years.  Already the cars have had one salutary effect: after seeing scratches on the side of the Prius, Jami savagely attacked the bushes that line our driveway with electric clippers...

Hot Fun in the Summertime

When not being a shrub-pusher at Bordine's, grandpa can be found in our hammock 19 out of every 24 hours. We do try to make sure he turns over occasionally so as not to get bed sores.
I set up this pool on Monday and Frederick was the first to leap in--it was very, very cold. It's been ridiculously hot since then and so the water has warmed up SLIGHTLY, but that doesn't stop the kids from using it every chance they get.

A Really Crappy Day...(or: Hell on Exit 88)

Sunday evening I got home from a bioethics conference in NY (THAT was interesting: I met Diane Coleman who is the founder of Not Dead Yet and self-proclaimed archnemesis of Peter Singer, hero to many philosophers. Her schtick is that she is a victim because she is convinced that physicians are hell-bent on killing her because they are mindlessly following Singer's Svengali-like influence over the medical community. Let's just say that after spending about 16 hours over the course of two days in her company that I was starting to think they had the right idea.) and was eager to be home away from all the hustle and bustle of a professional philosopher's life. Monday was a beautiful, sunny day, and Simon and Frederick set out as they always do for Ann Arbor about 3 o'clock. At 3:30, just when I was really starting to enjoy the quiet, empty house, Simon called to say that his car has broken down. According to witness reports, the car started making a horrific clunking noise and Simon barely managed to get it off the freeway. Very luckily, this party store/mechanic/tow company was the first business at the exit.

Here is Frederick in the car patiently waiting for me to pick them up and take them home. I got the call from Woody the next morning while Simon was in the executive meeting (his favorite thing to do): the car is deader than a dead thing. We went through the normal stages of grief but eventually acknowledged that we knew this day was coming. I taught Tuesday afternoon (bioethics--bah! I'm really getting sick of it.) so we penciled Wednesday morning to be the day we empty Simon's car, sign it over to the mechanic writing it off, and deal with the rest of the things we needed to do that day.
But, alas, the Fates have it in for us. I dropped the kids off at school and on the way home, my air conditioner died--highly unusual for my car (which has a amazing set of sick car symptoms) so I was concerned, but obviously also in denial. I got home and Simon and his dad piled into the car and we set out to (1) offload Simon's car onto the mechanic and (2) go to Bordine's (the local nursery) to check out plants to cover our unsightly Family Video wall in our backyard. We were heading down the 23, same as Simon was on Monday afternoon (only we were being treated to a horrifically hot and humid day) when my car sputtered, spurted and...died at the side of the road. Here we are, sitting, waiting for the AAA tow truck to show up (it took them almost 45 minutes). Simon promised to be a trooper and sit with the car while his dad and I walked up the road to a Speedway. I called my mom and she came to get us--imagine her surprise when I called and said that my car, too, had died on the 23 only 13 miles from where Simon's had died! Oh, how we laughed! So she came to get us (and just about that time Simon was being loaded into the tow truck to head to a mechanic to get a diagnosis for my car). We headed back home, dropped her off and she loaned us the use of her car with strict instructions to stay off I 23. We picked up Simon who was with my car and got the word: the alternator died, draining (and killing) the battery. A seemingly simple solution except that in the past 2 years this car has broken down dead at the side of the road 4 times, each time with either a broken alternator or dead battery. Something is seriously wrong with this car.
And so we set out (despite grandma's pleadings) south on 23, holding our breath, clenching our jaws, girding our loins, choking on our rage (and so on) as we pass Exit 88, the scene of our earlier adventure. We finally got to Woody's and emptied Simon's car (what a lot of crap he had in there), including the stereo I got him for his birthday 2 years ago (but not the speakers and we couldn't get the tow hitch off so that was a loss). It's kind of amazing how easy it is to sign a car over to someone else--it took about 20 seconds.
We then went to The French Laundry for lunch--this is one of those places that is filled with well-heeled women having chatty lunches, all swanked out in their best summery outfits and hair-dos. We, on the other hand, looked like desert island refugees after a shipwreck. Finally, we made it to Bordine's and grandpa went nuts buying rhododendrens and the like. Bordine's is, normally, one of my favorite places, but my heart just wasn't in it. After that, we dropped Simon off to pick up my car (and pay the jaw-clenching inducing bill so that we have SOMETHING to drive for the next couple of days while we figure out what to do).
Everyone did eventually make it home: we had a decent pasta dinner, Thomas, Frederick and Bryce played in the pool until the wee hours, then the grownups watched Yojimbo (one of my all-time favorite movies). Maybe everything will be all right...Though we did have a power-outage in the middle of the night and, once I woke up and realized that we had no power--no air conditioning!!!--my first thought was, "Oh, shit! The whole house is broken!" but it wasn't personal, the whole neighborhood was in darkness and the power did kick in after a while...When WILL there be good news?

Phew!

Background: last Saturday Thomas auditioned BOTH for Wind Ensemble (on Bassoon) and Youth Symphony (the next stage up from Philharmonia) on percussion. [Errata: Simon has confused the ensembles. Thomas auditioned for Philharmonia for percussion, the same ensemble he has been in for the past 2 years. He won't be old enough to be in Youth Symphony until he is 14. So, while he was very confident that he would get percussion for Philharmonia, he was worried that he wouldn't be good enough to play bassoon for Wind Ensemble, would be placed in Philharmonia for bassoon, and then would have to pick between percussion and bassoon for Philharmonia. There, that's the whole story.] The auditions were one after the other, the first one ran late, he forgot his music, [further additional comments: he didn't forget his music, he couldn't find his music because he doesn't organize the millions of sheets but just stuffs them into a giant bag.] and in general he was convinced he'd bungled both of them. Today an envelope arrived from the Flint Institute of Music addressed to him, so stupidly I handed it to him. He stared at it as if it were a live cobra and said that he daren't open it. At that point, the penny dropped and I realized what it contained, so I took it back and vetted it first. Here's what it contained:


He was very pleased. His joy is now diluted somewhat by the dawning realization of how much work this is going to entail. And mine by the monetary sums demanded in the ensuing paragraphs on each letter...

Frederick Doubts Grandpa's Fishing Yarn

Thomas and Frederick's Grandpa arrived on Monday (after various hilarious madcap adventures, because his flight was scheduled in the tiny window that Heathrow was closed because the wind from Iceland was in the wrong direction, and then his pilot from Detroit to Flint went missing). Here he is explaining to Frederick about how he got here.

Frederick is 7

Here is Frederick hunting down presents. Emily organized all the clues and, with Thomas' help, hid them while Simon kept Frederick busy. According to Simon, Frederick knew very well that presents were being hidden as he was very excited to be locked away in his room while everyone else was racing about, setting things up. Frederick could hear all the noises and would giggle happily, obviously geeked about all the goods he was about to find littered about. (Thomas did the streamers pictured here.)
One clue told Frederick that he had to find a present hidden in bubbles. He managed without any trouble at all.
Apparently bubbles are for making beards. According to Frederick, he is Santa Claus.
Still Santa.
Thomas intently overseeing all present finding, opening and using. This is a box of LEGO that Thomas DOES NOT OWN. Thomas told me that he thought Frederick didn't "need" it.
Hmm. More LEGO that Thomas doesn't already have. Something is seriously wrong here.
Mid-Present Hunt, Frederick stops for a quick, much needed rest. Apparently Martha needs one, too.
More stuff to open--the party never stops.
Overall it was a good day (lots of cake, ice cream, fruit salad, nice weather, everyone happy) with only one near stabbing--you can't ask for much more than that from a kid's birthday party.

Simon's YouTube Pick o'the Week

Since YouTube has been required to yank all of the Hitler parodies for copyright reasons, people have taken things into their own hands:

Last Post in Prague (perhaps)

This is my last blogpost from Prague--unless, that is, more airports are closed because of the Iceland Ash Panic. Right now the conference antendees from Ireland and Scotland aren't going anywhere soon and spent their breaks running around town trying to find a hotel room for no one knows how long. This is the building that housed our conference, where I spent from 9-4 every day (except for the 2 hour lunch breaks I always spent dogging it downtown), listening to people blather on.

Here is the rest of the courtyard.

It is the Michna Palace that was turned into a gymnasium by the soviets. It's a school now for what I don't know. But evidence of its past is everywhere as the walls are covered with photos like this of athletes with astonishingly--'solid' is really the only word for it--bodies.
I'd come back to Prague in a heartbeat: if you like to walk and own good solid shoes this is the place to be: the city is incredibly easy to navigate, the prices are ridiculously low and the people are really, really nice and helpful. I was dreading trying to communicate with the locals but, though only the hotel staff and a very few shop workers speak any English (or German), they all gave it their best and were really nice. (This evening I went out to dinner with one of my conference mates and I recommended that he try the blueberry pancake dessert; I had had it yesterday and was going to get it again. He was willing and ordered "two blueberries and two teas." The waitress stared at us, clearly trying to process what she heard, but then went back to the kithen. Then a waiter came over with the drinks menu, pointed to "Bloody Mary" and asked did we REALLY want hot tea AND Bloody Marys? No, we laughed, BLUEberry. Bloodyberry? he asked? Finally one of us thought to say "pancake." The light went on and he went back to the kitchen; we could hear the whole kitchen staff laughing about it for quite a while.) I also noticed that store workers would leave their stores unattended to go chat to the store workers next store. Twice I saw people go into an unattended store, take what they want, leave money on the counter and then go. Although I didn't seek out a wild night life scene, I was walking around by myself at night until 9 or 10 and never felt in danger and was never bothered by anyone. Also especially nice is the amazing mix of cultures and races, both wandering around as tourists and living here. The Czechs don't seem to assume that anyone visiting will speak Czech and the tourists can't speak to each other. The result is a peaceful cohabitation of relaxed self-concern. It is a really nice place to be.

The Penny Drops

I mentioned in an earlier post that I had set out on that ordeal of a walk in search of a castle. Implicit in that post is the fact that I didn't find one--which seems pretty strange since the castle is one of the major features of this town. Yesterday I got serious about getting a handle on this town and realized that the wall I saw was the outer castle wall that circles most of the downtown, but is not actually around the castle proper. So this morning I had about 90 minutes before the conference started and I was determined to see the damn castle. I worked my way through the amazing web of downtown streets and, when I saw this, knew I was on to something.
And so the stairs begin. I brought the right shoes with me for this trip--heavy walking shoes with really thick soles--there is no way tennis shoes or, shudder, sandals would manage these streets and hills. Still, my feet are tired and this was daunting. Did I mention that my legs are STILL sore from climbing that hill (which I now know is called Petrin)? This isn't going to make things better.
Aside: Check out that wooden window shutter. I mean, really look at it--it's frickin' HUGE! That door, which, next to that shutter, looks like it is for children is about 12 feet tall. The shutter is even bigger--and there is a second one for the right half of the window. Can you imagine getting a good pair of 15 foot wide solid wooden shutters now?

Finally I Find the Hrad

My first sighting! This white building is just one of about 20 or so buildings within the "castle" walls. All the buildings are in use; a few are museums and touristy things (you can rent audio recordings of a complete history of the site and walk about the place-- I wish I had had the time but "they" recommend spending the entire day, exploring all the buildings, museums, gardens, vineyards, etc, never mind the restaurants and concert hall) but more importantly it houses the Prague Government, including the Parliament.

Here's another building. Check out the two posts; I wondered if they were ship masts in an earlier life. They are each about 5 feet thick at the base and go, beyond the picture frame, to an absolute, gold tipped point. As I walked past them I kept thinking about falling out of they sky onto one and sliding right down to the base--improbable, yes, but an unavoidable image.

These are just two of the many guards stationed about the place. The second I saw them I had to stifle laughter; I just think the idea of being a guard around a palace is funny. I couldn't help but think very Mr. Cheeky sorts of thoughts. I wanted to take their picture but didn't trust myself to get closer for fear of finding myself saying silly things.
This is out of order, but fits here: this is the start of the climb back down the hill to the conference hall where I was to be by 9:30. I had 14 minutes to do it and made it with exactly one minute to spare.

St. Vitus Cathedral

Here is St. Vitus' Cathedral, which is inside the Hrad. I got here around 8:45 this morning and had to wait until 9 before the doors opened. My hair was still wet from showering earlier and it was bitterly cold with the wind whipping around the open spaces up on the top of this hill.

Here is a close up of the water spouts which are quite cool.
Here is the backside of the church which is in the palace courtyard. I didn't have much time to read about the entire complex, which is ridiculously large and choc-a-bloc with buildings with long and complicated histories. But I did clearly get the sense that each major historical era created yet another grandiose building within the walls of this palace. This church was started in he 1300s and, interestingly, was built on the site of the pagan sacrificial alter for the god Svantovit (hence the name St. Vitus) which goes back to the early-900s.

Here is one part inside. Aesthetically, this is absurd. I think a person would go slightly mad working in a place like this day after day. It really makes one appreciate modernism. (And, perhaps that is why Czechs really go in for modern art. I saw at least six modern art museums as I was working my way through the downtown.)
It was ridiculously dark and mildewy inside. And freaking cold. I can't imagine what it is like to go to a service in Winter.

More Downtown Prague, tourist style

During the lunch break I took a quick trot downtown to get a few more presents for someone who made it clear that enough was never enough. Here is a purple (I told you they go in for purple here) Skoda that you can ride in for a sightseeing tour.
Since arriving here a few days ago I have seen these guys separately around town. It pleased me to see that they hang out together during a quiet lull in the days activities. The guy in the orange and red shirt is the trumpet player in the Old Town Hall clock (see later post). The guy in the tan shirt and spear works the Charles Bridge Gateway. I'm not sure what the red/black guy does but I've seen those costumes all over the place. Although all these are men, so far about half the costumed people I've seen were women.

Jewish Quarter

As I wrote yesterday I wanted to see the old Jewish Quarter before going. This is one of the
(in)famous ghettoes I read so much about studying German literature. I had always imagined a ghetto American-style, a place hideously poor, ugly and lonely and was astonished and intrigued to see that it is in many respects the most beautiful part of Prague. It is PACKED with university buildings, concert centers and libraries. The Klementinum is just on the edge of The Jewish Quarter and it is now the National Library. It is a hideous building on the outside but apparently stunning on the inside and only just shy of being as big as the Hrad. Here is a lovely neighborhood street.
Here is the Philharmonia Concert Hall--will Thomas someday play the gong (or, perhaps, the triangle) here?
One of the most important features of the Old Jewish Quarter is the cemetary, which holds (allegedly) all the bodies of the Jews that have died here (not all in terrible circumstances). One reason this cemetary is quite important is that it is one of the few that was not desecrated by Nazis. The area it covers is quite small but the stones (and bodies) are packed in tight. This is only one corner and you can see how well used the space is. Inside the memorial building is a room with all the names of all Jews known to have been killed by Nazis written on the walls from floor to ceiling--undramatic yet quite affecting.

Old Town Hall

There's so much to see in Prague, you could easily fill a month in this city just going to concerts, museums and reading up on everything you are looking at, never mind all the rest of the Czech Republic (I really want to go to Transylvania some day if only because of the name), but I had to pick my last most desired destination, so it was the Old Town Hall.
And here is the real jewel of the Old Town Hall, The Astronomical Clock. This clock dates back to the 1400s and every hour the bells in the bell tower (above what is pictured) chime, the figures behind the windows dance, and the four figures next to the clock face do thier thing--death (the skeleton to the right) rings a bell, a Jew with moneybags (apparently the "offensive stereoptypical beard was removed in 1945--whew!), Vanity admiring his reflection in a mirror and a Turk shaking his head. Once they stop, the bells ring the hour and a guy up at the very top of he tower does a very pretty trumpet solo. I was so lucky to get there just a few minutes before 6:00 as the show was definitely worth seeing and the crowd watching went absolutely wild.

Here is the crowd building up just a few minutes before the show began. It had started raining as I got there but was coming down pretty hard by this point. The clock is on the left.

After the trumpet solo ended a gaggle of segue-riding tourists sailed off to see more sights.

Second attempt at Sibelius

Well, it didn't work as one file. It didn't work as two files. It didn't even bloody work as three. So here, in FIVE glorious parts, is Thomas's (well, a few other people helped) performance of the Symphony No. 2 in D Major by Jean Sibelius. (Jami: be sure to note who is sitting three chairs in front of Thomas, for once NOT talking to the person behind her.)

Part 1:

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part the last (if anyone knows a good way to condense MPEGs, I'm all ears):

Various Things

If you ever want to remember what it is like to be 4 years old, try using giant door knobs on giant doors. This is the knob to my hotel and is just about at my eyebrow level.
Here is the whole door which is, I would guess, 12 or 13 feet tall--plus the transome window on top. It's really ridiculous how disturbing it is to use such an oversized door, like suddenly finding oneself in Alice in Wonderland. And all the business doors, shops and hotels, are like that. Speaking of hotels, I left the conference early today to settle my room business and do some shopping. (Simon made it clear that he expects presents and that I should get something for the kids while I'm at it, too.) The receptionist (another strikingly handsome individual--this hotel really knows how to hire good looking people) assured me that I could stay; they were going to bump someone else out to accomodate me but would I please pay for the extra night separately? That charge ended up being another $4500 crowns, which is about $225--almost as much as I paid for the three other nights. I'm am going to assume that UM-Flint will be picking up this tab one way or the other, so I don't really feel cheated, but yet I do and I feel guilty too at the thought of someone else being bumped along because my reservations were made incorrectly. I dread looking out my hotel window tomorrow night and seeing some sad sack wheeling a rattling suitcase along the cobbled sidewalks in search of a room (but not enough to give up my room, so not real guilt just a vague uneasiness).

All the guidebooks claim that Czechs go for marionettes in a big way and they weren't kidding. Here is one store that sells only marionettes.

And here is another. There were dozens; I couldn't possibly find them all in three days here. Most of the dolls are silly animals and such, but some are truly alarming. I've seen devils and witches, ghosts and other monsters--one female doll had a head that popped off so you could play act her beheading. Should I get that for Thomas? Downtown the opera Don Giovanni was being performed tonight (two guys in silly 14th c. castle suits played horns to announce the start of the show--it was weird; I half expected the first season of Black Adder to start) and across from the concert hall was a smaller concert hall that was performing the entire opera using marionettes.

Now these guys are weird and I only know what they are because I happened to be eating breakfast at the right place and at the right time. There is a 10 minute kids show on around 7:30 am that features this dad and son and their (mis)adventures together. The dad is an overbearing control freak who wigs out when things go wrong (this morning his axe head flew off and landed in a tree) and the son has to talk him down and solve his problems for him. (The dad can't even sit down without slipping onto the floor and then getting angry at the chair he missed.) The dolls looked ancient, like something from 100 years ago but the film quality and credits were very recent. Can you imagine putting together a show like that now? Afterwards they cut to the usual sort of talking-heads show with (more) beautiful people--all blonde with fabulous white teeth and sassy short hairdos (men and women). The only thing that really marked the show as slightly odd to my eyes was the BRIGHT SHINY puffy shirt the woman was wearing. It seemed like it belonged in a Human League video from 1982 or so.

The little bit of Czech tv that I have seen is AWESOME and I would gladly spend a week here just watching tv all day long--so long as I had someone to share it with. Sunday night I had some tea before going to bed and there was a commercial for a music group called Maximum Turbulenc, which is an oompa-group that sings polka songs. These guys (there were four of them) were HUGE, each was a mountain of a man, all decked out in leder hosen, jumping up and down and belting out polka ditties in Czech (not German as one might expect) and as they jumped up and down the camera jumped, so that it seemed like their impact was making the whole world shake (hence the band name). The commercial went on for ages (or so it seemed) and ended with the usual "Buy now!" sort of thing, only in Czech, and you could get 6 cds for only 400 crowns (which is about $20). A bargain! Yesterday morning there was a long music video that featured an aging hippy with long flowing white hair singing very melodically as he walked along a stone fence in a huge field with a young and beautiful woman looking adoringly in his eyes. Who is this guy? Is he famous here--the Czech Robert Plant? I'll never know.