Category: Life

  • Just Some Paint (Unedited)

    Just Some Paint (Unedited)

    The livingroom painting project is done!

    Well… like 80% done, as I still have to paint the ceiling, but that’s for next weekend, and that’s easy.

    So… We’re done!

    It took a little time, as I did start this whole project right before the kid went away to camp. I did that to kill time, and also try to teach her a life skill; how to paint a wall. I mean, at some point she will live someplace that she’ll want to make her own, and though painting isn’t a difficult skill to learn, I would like her to have in her head that this is something she can do.

    Anyway… digressing here…

    The point is that we took our time, but the wife and I painted the livingroom. Not only that, we cleaned everything out. Really got into all the nooks and crannies of the apartment and cleaned. And then the wife had an idea to sand and paint out TV stand, which turned out great. (She has a little more to go on it, but it looks great. Might share a picture of it when it’s done.) But the best part of all of this is that at the end of Sunday night, we were tired, but not exhausted, and we had the self-satisfied feeling of accomplishing something important.

    The last time we painted the livingroom was right before the kid was born. I guess it was called the “Nesting Phase,” but either way, it was fun to get the apartment ready for the kid. Even the wife’s sister came in town to help us get the whole place ready. It’s a fun memory.

    This time around, it felt like we were putting the last few years behind us. There are still ghosts of Covid around our home. This we hung on the walls, or furniture we tried to repurposed to make working from home functional, or home school at least viable. Books came off the shelves and were cleaned, and a new sense of order and comfort began to take root. It was renewing our commitment to make this little Harlem apartment our home for the next decade or more.

    It was just a little paint. Just a little time. Some sweat and listening to my wife’s playlists.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Ravenous Day, Cooking, and Don’t Be an Angry Old Dude

    ODDS and ENDS: Ravenous Day, Cooking, and Don’t Be an Angry Old Dude

    (Sweet Dionysus
    She never really liked us…)

    I was hungry all day yesterday. And I mean all day; morning to night, and then again this morning when I woke up. I remember that back in my twenties this would happen to me often enough to name this affliction – A Ravenous Day. On these days, no matter how much I ate, or how often I ate, I would never feel full or satiated. Yesterday was A Ravenous Day, and I did my best to handle this situation in the healthiest way possible, but fruits and veg wouldn’t cut it. I tried salty, but that wouldn’t end it. I tried sweet, but that seemed to make everything worse. I even tried cold pizza at 2am. Nothing worked. I stayed hydrated, and out of the heat, as if that had something do with it. I am bottomless pit.

    I really love cooking for my family. Even with the kid at camp, and it’s just me and the wife, I want to cook for her. I tried Thai fried rice and spring rolls the other night. I had never done it before, and I thought I should try. The rice turned out well, but my ability at rolling rolls was very much lacking. More practice is needed. It was fun for me to try something new, and in a sense, fail at it. I like the idea that the kid is going to come home from camp, and I will have this new meal for her, and it will be something that she will like. But that feeling, of knowing that I am going to make a food that she likes, that we haven’t made at home before, gives me a feeling of providing for, and taking care of her.

    I refuse to be an angry old dude. Anger will not be my driving emotion. I will not be bitter about how my life has gone. I will be a happy silly old man. I’ve met a few in my life, and I aim to be like them.

  • Earworm Wednesday: My Kid Hates this Lumbering Song

    I will give you bonus points if you remember “The Midnight Special” TV series.

    It’s a kitschy song in my opinion, but the main riff is pretty cool, and does get stuck in my head easily. Also, that’s the reason my kid hates this song – her dad wanders around the house humming it, and it just drives her crazy.

    But I know that I’m not the only one who loves that riff…

  • Summer Camp and Growing Up

    The wife and I got back from dropping the kid off at her all girls Summer camp. It’s a sleep away camp and she loves it. I can honestly say that she looks forward to it all year. When she gets home from camp, we get a month, or maybe two, before she starts talking about how she can’t wait to go back.

    This year, unlike the previous two, the kid wanted me and the wife to come into camp, so she could show us around, and this way, we’d know what she was experiencing, and put a place to the locations she had told us about. You see, the two previous summers, the kid has wanted to go into camp alone, and do it all by herself. We were and still are, all for her independence and if this is the healthy way that she starts to break away from us, we’re all for it. Still hurts a little – we want her to still need us, but the right thing is that she needs to become her own person, independent of us.

    So, this year when she wanted us to come in, we were a tad taken aback. We weren’t going to say no to this invitation, but still a little surprised that the third year in, now she wanted us to see it.

    Growing up in Texas, I barely knew anyone who went to a sleep away Summer camp. There were Boy Scout and Girl Scout camps, but those usually took place over a three-day weekend, and were about getting badges and stuff. Sleep away camp was about having fun, or at least that’s what TV and movies made it look like. Besides, sleep away camp seemed to be something that only happened in the Northeast. Down in Texas, we spent three months sleeping in, watching tv, riding bikes through the neighborhood, and playing until dinner time. Oh, and trying to stay out of trouble.

    So, I was curious what camp is like.

    And what I learned from my daughter was nothing. I could see it dawn on her as we parked the car and started to cross over the river to get to the camp that she had made a mistake bringing us. She got all tense, wouldn’t talk (and our kid loves to talk), and when we did ask her a question, she would only give us one-word answers. She wasn’t behaving like herself. When we got to her tent, a group of her friends came running up to her, and they all started hugging, laughing, and talking about what they had been up to – the kid returned to her normal self. She is a good kid and pulled away from her friends to show us her tent and we helped set up her bed, but the wife and I could feel her was desperate to get back to her friends. So, we gave her a hug and a kiss, told her to have fun, and watched her run off to her friends.

    I still have no idea what the camp is like.

    Which isn’t true, as the councilors and the staff were great and did show us around, and made us feel very welcome. But I didn’t get to see the camp from the kid’s perspective.

    And as the wife and I drove back to New York, I told my her my theory why it was a mistake to bring us into camp. See, I get that kids want to share stuff with their parents, and our kid is no different. But that camp, for the past two years, had just been hers. We had dropped her off, and she crossed that river by herself, and everything we knew about camp, she had to tell us. We stayed on one side, and she got to go to the other. It was her private place that only she knew about, that she had experienced alone – it was her thing, not ours. I think she had her first realization that in life there are some things you don’t want to share. That you want to keep all for yourself.

    That’s true for me. There are things that I have experienced that are mine. That I hold onto and I cherish. They’re not nefarious experiences; they’re just mine, and they make me happy.

    The kid is beginning to build those memories for herself now. Which is good. She’s growing up.

  • Earworm Thursday: How Can You Not Dance to This?

    Oh, I will jump on it.

    This song always makes me smile when I hear it. And then it won’t leave, playing on repeat in my head.