Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Sarah has been saying for quite some time now that she wants to be an archaeologist. At first I tended to think that this came mainly from the highly realistic view of archaeology she derived from Scooby-Doo, in which archaeologists always seem to be discovering enormous jewels, the mummy of Cleopatra (or some such). This as opposed to most Americans' views of archaeology, derived from those highly realistic documentaries about Indiana Jones and the lost whatever. Having actually spent some time with archaeologists in Egypt and Israel, and even done a little history for one dig about 25 years ago (and Tam actually having worked a dig in Nebraska years ago), we have sought to give her a more realistic view of what archaeologists do. That's the point where most people say, whoa, you mean instead of finding the lost diamond of the forbidden idol's eye, or the Ark of the Covenant, or the mummy with the curse, I have to scrape gravel with a toothbrush all day looking for pieces of old brick? Then plot it on a grid and weigh it and measure it and photograph it?
Amazingly, and I really am amazed, Sarah has weathered the realities of archaeology and actually seems to understand the real value (and tedium) of the field. At the Kids' discovery room at Mount Vernon, not just once but every time she goes there, she sits down with broken pottery and slowly tapes it together (with pieces missing), just like a colonial archaeologist really must. She's watched the dig in the old fort at Jamestown and seen archaeologists sifting the dirt carefully there, but this hands-on day at St. Mary's City was the first time she really got to get her own hands dirty. Though she wanted to dig with shovels, we explained that that is a highly specialized thing and you need special training to know exactly how much to take into the shovel at a time, but she was allowed, both yesterday and today, to break up dirt in the sifters, and show the archaeology students each thing that might be something. She found several pieces of coal, looked at brick found by others, and found what the student thought was pottery and put in the tagged bag for further study. Even though yesterday was in the 90s and she faded early, she wanted to go back today.
Then, today as well, we took the once-a-year tour offered of the archaeology labs at St. Mary's City. (For those who came in late or didn't click on yesterday's links, St. Mary's City was the first capital of Maryland, founded in 1634 by Jesuits and the Calverts. It was eventually abandoned, and has been gradually re-excavated and reconstructed in part in recent decades. It's located here). The chief conservator was very tourist-friendly and they showed us how they handled the artifacts. Sarah and one slightly older boy were the only two kids on our small (12 or 13 people) tour. When they got to the lab, both headed straight to the magnifier which had an arrowhead (or in archae-speak, "projectile point") under it. Since she loves to draw, I showed her how carefully the archaeologists draw their finds. Then we all sat at a table while the chief conservator showed us artifacts. A sword pommel, a slave's or prisoner's shackle, a piece of Delft ware with a date on it, and other interesting stuff. Tonight, I asked her what she liked best: the digging, which she kept going back to? No, she said the lab tour. And what did she like best about that? The artifacts, she said.
I am not making this up. She said, "The artifacts." I doubt if, at seven, I even knew the word "artifact." (I know the Brits prefer "artefact," but then they can't even pronounce "schedule" correctly.) I'm pretty sure I hadn't visited a real archaeological dig before I got to Egypt in my mid-20s. (Well, if you're going to learn something new, start at the source.)
I have no idea if Sarah will become an archaeologist. I became neither a cowboy nor a fireman despite a certain commitment at various times. But she does seem to realize that it isn't all Indiana Jones meets Scooby-Doo.
She's also impressed that I know a little bit in this area. She avidly watched the recent, much hyped, Discovery Channel special on Egypt's Queen Hatshepsut, despite being a little "creeped out" (her words) by pictures of the mummy.. Like most Discovery Channel or History Channel programs on Egypt, Zahi Hawass, the chief archaeologist for the Pyramids Plateau and a self-promoter of the first order, was much in evidence. I mentioned to Sarah that some 25 years ago, when I was living in Egypt and Zahi was just starting out, I knew him slightly through mutual friends who (like Hawass) had gone to the University of Chicago. This impressed her no end; I'm still getting questions about it. (Why is he on TV all the time and I'm not?) Dad knows someone on TV. (Sure, I know most of the Middle East talking heads on CNN, and am sometimes one myself, but that doesn't count. This guy's on the Discovery Channel!) I haven't seen Zahi Hawass in a quarter century and I'm not sure he ever knew my name, but I get brownie points anyway.
During the tour today she kept telling people I could recite the Greek alphabet, and asking me to do it. I can, with a little prodding, still remember it in proper order I think, but Greek is not one of my languages and I keep telling her I actually speak quite good Arabic (even weirder alphabet) and a bit of mediocre Hebrew (yet another alphabet), so why she keeps asking for Greek I'm not sure, but I did hear her tell the other kid on the tour that "one of the letters is named pi." Maybe that's it.
I'm not sure where this is going: I doubt if your average academic archaeologist started this way, though I may be wrong, and I rather suspect Heinrich Schliemann did.
For those invited to our Flickr and YouTube family sites, both stills and videos of the dig are online.
This is the really big caterpillar we saw today. We were at St.Mary's City for the second day of Archaeology Weekend (see separate postings), when one of the reenactor/living history people called out to Sarah, "You want to see something really weird?" This huge, maybe five or more inches long, caterpillar was crossing the path. We think it's a tobacco hornworm, but it's bigger than any anybody had seen. The living history people (that's why the guy holding it is in colonial outfit) didn't know what it was. Sarah has a stuffed tobacco hornworm (she has every stuffed animal imaginable, even caterpillars) so we were fairly confident' we'd seen smaller ones at the colonial farm in Accokeek, Maryland, which recreates a colonial tobacco plantation. This is a gigantic one if that's what it is though. Most of the Internet postings I've found say they get up to 75-85mm (maybe 2.5-3.5 inches) and the largest estimate I found was four inches; this one is at least five I think: look at the man's hands in the picture; he was a big guy. The Internet did say they drop to the ground and burrow when they are ready to go from larve to pupa; maybe that's what this guy was planning before we all started gawking. Now the video:
Saturday, July 28, 2007
All of which, being a geezer who will be 60 rather sooner than I like to admit, makes me think of what hotel/motel travel was like when I was growing up. ("Oh, Dad, not againnnnn....") Today, driving down through southern Maryland, we passed some of the old motels from the 50s and 60s. They look so small today, the little cabins and such. Those that are still in business seem to be in the no-tell motel line of work, not designed for a family or, necessarily, for staying the entire night. But families stayed in them back in the day, because it's what there was.
In 1958, almost half a century ago now, my Dad was moving from Montgomery Ward to Sears and had to do a week's training somewhere (Kansas City? Oklahoma City? Not sure now, but out of town), while my Uncle Miles and Aunt Kathy Landis were going West on a combination vacation and business trip with Miles having meetings in Canada and New Mexico. They asked my Mom and me (since my Dad would be away) and my cousin Steve Jones (then of Oklahoma City; now of Nashville when last heard from) to go with them. I'd never been west of Kansas, never seen the Rockies, never been in a foreign country (wild, exotic Canada!), never even seen a real desert. I got to do all those things, and to see the "wild" West at a time when every other TV show was a Western. It was a tremendous opportunity. We went to Dodge City (Wyatt Earp! Matt Dillon!), Colorado Springs, up through Wyoming to do Yellowstone, then up through Idaho and Washington to British Columbia, then down through Utah and New Mexico. It was a trip to remember, if not the trip of a lifetime (I've been weirder places since, obviously), then the trip of my youth. [And even the exotic places are alike these days. All over China we saw McDonalds; at Golani Junction in Galilee, where a key battle of Israel's war of independence was fought and virtually within sight of the Horns of Hattin of Crusades fame, there are the Golden Arches. In the 1950s, which I'm reminiscing about, the British retook Nizwa, Oman, using airplanes against sword-wielding fighters on horseback. By the time I got to Nizwa, in the 90s, it had a KFC.] Oh yes, I was 10, just about to turn 11. That may be the perfect time: old enough to know what you're seeing, young enough to be open and un-cynical about it.
We stayed in a different motel every night. Some may have been part of loose chains like Best Western, but they weren't clones of each other like the average Hampton Inn or Comfort Inn or Ramada today. I have photos still of some of them. I've tried -- since my father-in-law still lives in Colorado Springs and we get out there periodically -- to locate where we stayed in 1958; I think it's gone, or so transformed as to be unrecognizable. The motel rooms were invariably small, a TV if you were lucky (three channels in the big towns, one at most in the little ones if there was a TV at all), maybe a phone. air conditioning still new enough to be advertised on the sign.
Two other things stick with me from that trip. The Interstate Highway system was just beginning; we would find construction all over the place, and a certain amount of new highway here and there, but mostly we were still on the old two-lane roads, and a good four lane still had stoplights. (Oh, and roadmaps were still free at every filling station.) You drove through downtown, even in Denver or Cheyenne or Salt Lake City you went down the main drag. And it was the last era before franchise food chains. Every meal was in a different restaurant, and a different menu. About the only real national franchise was Dairy Queen, and they only did ice cream in those days. McDonalds I think was just starting up; the first ones I remember in Joplin would have been a couple of years later.
Sarah will never know that world. Barring a nuclear war, she'll never know TV without 100 channels, or a world without an Internet and Google. But neither do a lot of people only a few years younger than I. That 1958 trip sticks with me, especially when I look at what we're doing right now: I'm posting this, and before I walk across the room after finishing it anyone on earth can read it. Sarah's watching a DVD in bed. The DVD can hold more information and last longer than four or five huge movie-theater 35mm film reels could in the 50s.
A few other hotel/motel memories. My Uncle, Bill Jones, lived in Osawatomie, Kansas (of John Brown of Osawatomie fame). He worked for the Missouri Pacific railroad; Osawatomie was where the Missouri Pacific's Kansas City area headquarters were. When we visited we always stayed at his house, but when he died in 1962, too many relatives were showing up at once, so we had to stay in a hotel. Osawatomie has the usual chain hotels now (I get 10 on Google), but in 1962 the choice was the railroad hotel downtown. The railroad hotel was (surprise!) over the railroad station. An old hotel, like something out of the 1930s as I recall it, with the added benefit that periodically just as you were getting back to sleep A TRAIN WOULD RUMBLE THROUGH.
One last travel/hotel memory and then I'll post this and go back to reading Middle Eastern newspapers online. (Only a few years ago you had to wait several days at best. Now I have the major papers from Beirut, Cairo, Jerusalem, etc. bookmarked. But that's another story...
Sometime in the 60s [update: Google tells me 1967], after my mother's death, my Dad and I were on a trip hunting family clues in the Ozarks. It just happened to be the day the last episode of the Fugitive was going to be on, in which the One-Armed Man finally gets found. We ended up in a little motel in either Reeds Spring or Reeds Spring Junction, MO. Ozark readers will know these places. (I think it was Reeds Spring Junction.) The motel was in the hills and the nearest TV stations were in Springfield. (Branson was not, believe me, anything like it is now, Ozark readers.) There was no cable, no satellite TV, just whatever the rabbit ears brought in. We tried watching The Fugitive on the tiny black-and-white TV in the room. Just as Richard Kimble, Lieutenant Girard, and the one-armed man all got to the final confrontation, the picture, which at best had been a very fuzzy blend of grays, disappeared altogether, and so did the sound. What happened? Did Kimble get off? Would we ever know?
So, of course, we just looked for the video on YouTube, right? No, I actually think I've still never seen the final episode of the fugitive. I suppose it is on YouTube by now. And 1967 was 40 years ago now.
Do I miss travel in those days? Maybe I miss the diversity: each place was different, not the same mix of Wal-Marts, McDonalds and Applebee's. Roads went down the main streets of the towns, not bypassing them without stopping. (If you've seen Cars you'll have a sense of the nostalgia I feel about that 1958 trip.) It's a little too much like work to know that I can know exactly what's happening all over the world from my room in this Hampton Inn in Maryland. In one sense, if you're always in touch, you're never on vacation. But I can do this. I can write this and it can be available to anyone on earth with Internet access within seconds. Tradeoffs. And, of course, I didn't have to go to work every day and pay the mortgage and stuff either, so that too is part of the charm. And Elvis hadn't gone Vegas yet.
Oh, Dadddd....you're doing it againnnnn....
This area of southern Maryland along the lower Patuxent and the Bay is the earliest-settled part of Maryland and is close enough to home to get down here quickly. Besides Pax River, which has a small naval aviation museum, there's Solomon's Island, where there's a marine science center Sarah likes (and ice cream on the boardwalk), Point Lookout (where the Potomac meets the bay: site of a Civil War prison (Union prison, for Confederate prisoners) and today of a state park with beaches.) The Civil War Buffs among you may recall the lines from "I'm a Good Ole Rebel:"
I followed Ole Marse RobertToday would have been more successful, though, without the heat and with hats. Meanwhile Sarah got in some good pool time -- she's getting more confident about swimming, though she still wants a tube or a life vest while paddling around.
For Four Years Nigh About
Got wounded in three places
And starved at P'int Lookout...
A few pictures at Flickr; hopefully we'll get more tomorrow.
Friday, July 27, 2007
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
"Daddy, how come you know so much?"
"Because I love to learn. I want to know the answers to questions. I used to be a college professor."
"I have a question."
"Who built the light bulb?"
"A man named Thomas Edison."
"Was he afraid of the dark?"
My answer was that that was a very good question and I didn't know the answer. But my answer was not as good as her question.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Anyway, this weekend proved to be a really great one. Last weekend I was out with gout; this weekend we hit two homeruns. Both days were gorgeous: 80s, low humidity, Mediterranean/California sort of day. Yesterday, as noted earlier, we went out to Great Falls Park. Today we headed to Baltimore to visit the National Aquarium there. It's truly one of the great aquariums, and Sarah is very interested in marine life of all kinds. She did an extra credit report on green sea turtles last year.
We finally joined as members. If a family of three goes and wants to do the dolphin show as well as the main aquarium the whole thing can run close to sixty dollars, whereas a family pass for a full year is only $124 and you don't have to wait for timed-entry tickets, so if you go only twice a year -- and we're in Baltimore more often than that, it's only 45 miles away -- you might as well be members. We're also members of the Science Museum in Baltimore, and (in the marine life line), the Calvert Marine Museum in Solomons, Maryland, and the Virginia Aquarium and Marine Science Center in Virginia Beach. In different ways the Baltimore and the Virginia Beach aquariums are both tremendous. Tam and I are both midwesterners -- she a Nebraska Cornhusker and me an Ozark ridgerunner, so neither one of us exactly grew up around oceans. We're glad we have these resources so close. (Washington does not, really, have an aquarium as such, except for some fish in the basement of the Commerce Department (really). So it's pretty much Baltimore and Viriginia Beach and Solomons.)
Sarah loved it. She loves sea turtles, as I noted, and sharks always give her a certain thrill though after a while she starts to get a little scared. When she was a toddler we first took her to the Baltimore Aquarium, paid (then, when she was younger and rates were cheaper) something like $45 and then halfway up the second level (of five or six) she announced she was finished and wanted to go home. No more: we can't pry her away.
We saw quite a lot, though we skipped the dolphin show. She's seen it before but says she doesn't remember, though I think she would if she went. Then we wandered about the Inner Harbor for a bit, had ice cream (well, she did), and at 5 pm (after insisting all day she didn't want to go on any of the historic ships, take a water taxi, or even ride a paddleboat: "No way," was the comment) she announces maybe she'd like to go on a boat after all. Okay, next time. Or we'll be in Norfolk for vacation. (Earlier she had been hesitant to say why she didn't want to go on a boat. I assured her they were perfectly safe. "That's what they thought about the TItanic," she responded. Well, true, but I would be absolutely dumbfounded to see an iceberg in Baltimore's Inner Harbor in July, I commented. "How was I supposed to know it hit an iceberg? I'm only seven."
The other great line of the day came even before we left. There's a new Australian exhibit at the Aquarium, which is quite interesting (have you ever seen a blue crayfish? The Aussies call them yabbies. They look like something you'd see after too many Fosters at the local.) Anyway, one of the TV ads for this features a Moray Eel. This morning Sarah says, "And did you know they have a Moron Eel?"
One of the breakthroughs in the past year is that museums, aquariums, and such are not just places to buy new stuffed animals (though we still do that: see below), but places she actually looks at everything (tries to read what she can), watches videos, etc. She is really becoming engaged with learning. Okay by me.
Spaghetti in Little Italy
But today we also had a breakthrough in a new direction. When Sarah was a toddler, and small enough to just tell what to do, we ate out where Mom and Dad wanted. Now she usually wants to eat at home. On the road, McDonald's. Or Hard Times Cafe, also a comfort food place for Mom and Dad. Or if McDonalds is out, she has become adventurous enough to try KFC or Burger King, though the latter alienated her by giving her the wrong order. We really have to bargain to get to go to someplace nice, and she insists she doesn't like Mexican (which she won't try). The Hunan Pepper Genes just haven't kicked in yet, despite her being from Hunan.
She does like Italian as long as it's 1) spaghetti, 2) pizza, 3) ravioli, 4) various other pastas so long as the sauce is marinara or you just pile a lot of parmesan on top. But last night (Saturday after Great Falls) we managed to get her to a Bertucci's pizza, and were talking about planning to go to Baltimore today and noted that real Italian cooking is the sort you get in Baltimore's Little Italy. Little Italy is just a few blocks east of the Inner Harbor and we decided to have an early dinner in Baltimore before driving back to DC. She was fascinated by the idea of Little Italy and once we parked and set out we passed a nice new restaurant, then went on up to the older strip of restaruants Tam and I were more familiar with: the old family places, the sorts where you figure Frank Sinatra might drop in or there might just possibly be a hit one evening (Michael Corleone going into the bathroom for the gun, you know the type of restaurant we mean). But Sarah wanted to try the newer place we had passed. Okay: you aren't going to survive in Little Italy in Baltimore if you don't do good Italian.
It was a new-looking place called Petalo's. [UPDATE: SEE NOTE AT BOTTOM. I hope it's not gone.] It had a lovely terrace but Sarah insisted on eating inside, despite it being a perfect day. (Have I mentioned yesterday and today were both in the 80s and low humidity? Those of you who know Washington know that's not normal in July. This would have been a great day in California. Or Greece.) But the boss had spoken and so we ate inside.
It was an interesting menu: not only high-end Italian, but also kabobs and other Middle Eastern (they called it "Mediterranean," but trust me, I know Arab: they even had foul mudammas) stuff. (Perhaps "Arab" is too politically sensitive. Anyway we had the Italian so I can't judge the Arab.) Sarah got as far as Kid's Spaghetti and Meatballs and looked no further. Tam and I -- who don't get to good restaurants as often as we'd like but know all the varieties of Happy Meal -- decided to splurge on the house special: $25 bucks a shot, but a veal scallopini in a very rich cream sauce (up the dose of lipitor) topped with pepper rings stuffed with crab meat. Whoa. It's the "Petalo's Veal" on page four of the online .pdf menu, [UPDATE: This link has failed twice and I don't know why. If you get a generic ad page, go back to the Petalo's link above and find the menu there.] and I heartily recommend it, provided you other high-cholesterol folks eat nothing but lettuce and carrots for a week afterwards. (In case my doctor is reading this.)
Sarah announced that the spaghetti and (one very large) meatball was the best spaghetti she had ever had. Then she got apologetic and said that she hoped Mom wasn't offended. I noted that, whereas Mom makes sauce by opening a jar from Safeway (though she does usually throw in some extra basil and oregano), I was pretty sure this place made its own sauce. Impressed (doesn't everyone get it from Safeway?), Sarah actually asked the waitress, who assured her the chef made the sauce and she would pass on the compliment. At one point Sarah announced this was the best weekend ever. Photos of Sarah with the spaghetti appear on our Flickr site for those with access.
The Seahorses' Wedding
Well, I guess I have to get to the seahorses' wedding and it's midnight and tomorrow's a work day so I'd better do it now. Sarah has one of the largest collections of stuffed animals imaginable. Dragons are her favorite (she was born in the year of the dragon), and unicorns are big, and she has a fair number of pandas (people can't resist giving them to her), the usual teddy bears, etc. Sea animals are also big: one huge turtle, several smaller turtles, even some stuffed jellyfish (yes), and a fair number of seahorses. Today she wanted another sea horse. I said I'd get her one animal and after weighing the seahorse against a dolphin, she chose the seahorse. Driving home to DC she decided that she would marry the new seahorse to one of the older seahorses, and as we made our way back over an hour or so's drive she cranked up the libretto for this wedding. Once home she dressed the bride-seahorse in a bridal outfit not designed for a seahorse, got out necklaces (no rings: Seahorses don't have fingers) and so on. A video of the bridal gown and a full video of the ceremony are at our private YouTube site if you have access. It is possibly the only video on YouTube with the tags "seahorse wedding," but I haven't confirmed this. When I posted "Rats Playing Basketball" I not only discovered how many Rats Playing Basketball videos there are on YouTube, but how many rat fanciers then start asking to exchange videos. I don't respond.
The ceremony is elaborate and well-staged, but the officiant (Sarah) tends to dissolve into hysterical giggling while trying to lead the seahorses in their wedding vows. Wouldn't you?
The happy couple eventually went on a honeymoon in a carriage (which is either a Barbie carriage or a Cinderella carriage, but I'm not sure which: Barbie and Disney Princesses seem to be slowly merging together). But I didn't get video of that.
UPDATE: As of mid-September, 2007, the Petalo's links aren't working at all. I hope it didn't go out of business, and will try further updates later.
Saturday, July 21, 2007
Sarah always wants to do the same old things she's done before. Today she tried an adventure. More anon.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
We've added a Mehuron Ancestry newsgroup newsgroup for discussion of Tam's ancestors; and
The group previously called "Dunn-Mehuron" was always intended as a discussion for our family and friends, not a family history group. It's been changed to "Tam and Michael's Family Forum." I guess I see this one as a way for us to talk to all our extended family and have a multisided conversation. I hope our family, or at least the newsgroup-savvy ones, will agree. C'mon over and lets talk a spell.
Come on around and try us. If you've never gotten into newsgroups, it can be habit-forming.
NOTE: The meds have kicked in and now I'm feeling better, obviously. I'm back to rearranging our web presence. Who knows, I may actually do some real work too.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Also, you will not find yourself in there, unless you are logging on from the other world. I have listed all living persons as simply "Living" with no personal information. I used to list names, but no dates or places. But even names can now be manipulated for identity-theft purposes, so now I simply list living people as "living." Search for your parents or grandparents to find links. I can make an uncensored version available to those who want it, if you're in it.
Also, note that for anyone in there who has a birthdate but no death date, I've told the computer to consider them "living" until 99 years after their birth date, so some people long dead for whom I don't have a death date will also be blanked out as "living."
Relatives of course may contact me for full information (or just as important, to add to/correct what I have.)
I'd taken Wednesday off, and Tam Thursday. Friday's my normal day to work from home, so it was my turn.
As it happened, I had a rather sore knee. I suspected it was a gout attack. Hadn't had one for a year and a half or so, but I do have a tendency to high nitrogen in my system, and if I either overeat or overdrink certain things (smoked foods, beer,other stuff), or stub a toe or bang a knee, it can come back. I don't take regular medication for it because it occurs rarely and at least one doctor thought it might conflict with other medication I take. Foolishly, since I had Sarah with me and she was recovering, I decided not to call a doctor Fricay. (Also the knee hurt enough I didn't want to drive [it was my right knee]; Tam was at work; a cab, with Sarah, would be a major production ... etc.etc.) I decided I'd try to watch my diet, drink plenty of water, taking anti-inflammatory pills and brazen it out.
Mistake. By Saturday I needed a cane. I wrecked the family weekend because Dad was suddenly a crippled old guy. Finally today, Monday, Tam took the day off (I couldn't drive) and I saw the doctor. Oh no, says he, whenever it is already flared up, only drugs can help. Now they tell me. After a day of medication and a couple of needles in my knee, I'm almost normal; expect by tomorrow I will be. But I blew one of our summer weekends. If Sarah hadn't been home sick Friday I wouldn't have hesitated. But as it happened I wrecked a weekend. Bad choice. Also painful. By Monday morning, when I finally called the doctor, the pain was really bad.
Oh, and megabummer: Sarah can't go in a pool for two weeks. Fun July. Hope it gets better.
Wednesday, July 11, 2007
One reflection: this makes me really admire single parents and wonder how they do it. If Sarah had been sick Monday and I were her only parent, I'd have missed a critical deadline. Tuesday, I'd have had to scramble to cancel an appointment made long before. Today, Tam would have had real problems with her deadline. But today was a light one for me, and the calendar could be cleared. Thank God we're both here. The odds are one or the other of us can take off without major setbacks to our work.
Sarah said to me in the car today (we went to Target for medicine and, yes, a couple of DVDs to pass the time) that she'd been thinking about the fact that when she was a baby she didn't know who Mom and I were when we first held her, and so she cried at first. (We've often discussed the first meeting video (not currently online) and first meeting photos and she understands that she had probably never seen any non-Chinese people before we held her in our arms. That, of course, was six years ago. I thought it a rather mature reflection for a seven-year-old.
Within half an hour of returning home, fully playing on the "sick day" theme, it was "Dad, change the channel." "Dad, the video's over." "Dad, I'm thirsty!" Once she called me in from the other room to tell me we could get a free trial at Blockbuster. Once I was urgently called to remove a plate of crackers she decided not to eat. It was taking up space.
Now she clearly knows who we are . . .
Her domestic staff.
(And loving every minute of it, of course. It's what parenting is all about.)
A Lion Dancer meeting with kids at last weekend's CCAI Reunion. Sarah showed me a thing she had to write for Summer Camp on "Why I Love Summer." She wrote, roughly, "I love summer because I got to go to a reunion." I'm pleased she found it interesting. A former colleague of Tam's, the guy who took our wedding photos in fact, adopted two girls from China after hearing of our experience, and Sarah took to the older of them (now 5, or two years younger than Sarah) this time, becoming a real mentor as they roamed the area around Burke Lake. (Actual overheard comment by Sarah to Mira: "You can pick up the rocks and see what kind of bugs are underneath.")
Whenever I see hundreds of Chinese adoptees together -- all bright, all enjoying themselves -- I think of what a huge part of its (mostly female) human capital China has exported due to its one-child rules. Our gain of course, but what a price they, and the many birth parents who felt they could not keep their daughters, have paid.
Here's a video of part of the lion dancers' performance:
Sarah is in neither the still picture nor the video, for reasons explained earlier here. Pictures with her included are in our family sites at YouTube and Flickr for those invited as friends and family.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Saturday, July 7, 2007
Thursday, July 5, 2007
When we started our family website, and when we adopted our daughter in China, we posted many photos for a while, along with our log of our trip to China to join Sarah.
Up through about her second birthday, we posted a number of photos. Then our jobs and the terrible twos intervened and the website didn't get updated. Now, Sarah is seven. She deserves her privacy and, well, we all know that the Internet has some strange folk lurking out there. We respect her privacy. For family and friends, you either have been or can be invited to gain access to our private sites at Flickr (for still photos) and YouTube (for videos). If you want to be added, E-mail me. If you don't know my E-mail, you aren't closely enough related to see Sarah's private photos.
I have no problem with posting the 2001 Guangzhou photo: It's been on the Web for six full years and is therefore no doubt archived by Google and many other sites. It's also on the homepage of tamandmichael.com, so it's hardly an invasion of Sarah's privacy at this point.
For those who may not have seen this photo before, or heard its background, the White Swan Hotel in Guangzhou is a lovely, huge five-star hotel that happens to be next door to the US Consulate in Guangzhou. And all American adoptions in China are processed by that consulate, not by the Embassy in Beijing. So all adopting Americans, regardless of where in China you adopt, go out via Guangzhou (Canton in the old days). And for convenience, the majority stay at the White Swan. The hotel is surrounded by shops catering to adoptive parents.
There's a famous red couch at the White Swan where adopting groups traditionally take pictures. (Red is the color of joy and celebration in China, and you'll note that we're both wearing red. The couch makes for good photos, and it's in an area with a glass wall opening out over the Pearl River.) This is a photo taken on our last day in China (July 12, 2001: for our log for that day, see here.) There is also a group photo of all the babies adopted in our group. But this is our first relatively good family picture. (Our first pictures were the photos of our first meeting, while unquestionably our worst early family picture was the Chinese official adoption photo. We call it the "deer in the headlights"picture, but don't think much of it.)
For our close family and friends, just ask and we'll give access to the Flickr and YouTube sites.
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Our log, posted from China at the time, is still online. You're welcome to read it.
Sarah will always have a special link with the fourth, however she chooses to identify herself in life.
IN CONGRESS, July 4, 1776.
The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen united States of America,
When in the Course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.--That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, --That whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that Governments long established should not be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security.--Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government. The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States. To prove this, let Facts be submitted to a candid world.
In every stage of these Oppressions We have Petitioned for Redress in the most humble terms: Our repeated Petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A Prince whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Nor have We been wanting in attentions to our Brittish brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their legislature to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our emigration and settlement here. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity. We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.
We, therefore, the Representatives of the united States of America, in General Congress, Assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the Name, and by Authority of the good People of these Colonies, solemnly publish and declare, That these United Colonies are, and of Right ought to be Free and Independent States; that they are Absolved from all Allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connection between them and the State of Great Britain, is and ought to be totally dissolved; and that as Free and Independent States, they have full Power to levy War, conclude Peace, contract Alliances, establish Commerce, and to do all other Acts and Things which Independent States may of right do. And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.
The 56 signatures on the Declaration appear in the positions indicated:
Monday, July 2, 2007
Sunday we got haircuts. For those who haven't got a seven year old, or haven't had one around recently, that may seem like a slim accomplishment. In fact, it's something of a triumph.