The Deets

First off, I've got this blog publishing to my personal site http://www.kevcallahan.com now as well as the blogger.com address.

That detail, however, is not why I'm finally posting after all these days. No, I'm posting because, well, that list of little things that I need to blog about has gotten to be 3, and after that I start forgetting.

Anyhow, first off, a quick Raelin update. Some of her latest doings/sayings:

• The other night in the tubby she asked me "where do the bubbles go when they pop?" Stumped me. She decided that in fact the lights and the faucet eat them. She now insists (more on this trait in a bit) that the water be left in the tub when she gets out. If there are bubbles, sometimes they are there so that the faucet can have something to eat at night.


• Racoon story: a Raelin best seller! OK, this has officially taken the place of both the "Reggie eating something and choking up in the house" saga and the "what happens when a big poopie clogs up the pottie" drama as the most requested and repeated story in the house. Raelin's got a pretty good version of it going herself that she's cobbled together from the variations that Kelly and I have been telling her.


• Last night we had burgers. Raelin had been outside with Kelly in the afternoon and still had on her big boots. So when she asked to come help with the grill there was a minimum fuss in dressing (more on this trait in a bit =). The highlight of the activity was moving snow around on the deck with a broom and shovel. She's decided that shoveling snow just kicks ass. It would be nice if this lasts through when she's big enough to actually shovel snow, though I'm not holding my breath.


• On Sunday I took Raelin up to the Snow Bowl tubing hill. It was a triple bonus in that 1) it was almost 40 degrees and so very pleasant, even when zooming at top speed down the hill, 2) Since there wasn't much snow the steep top half was closed, which was just fine for our first time, and 3) Since I help out the ski patrol on a regular basis I know most of the lift operators, and they know I'm there helping out. In this case, the lift operator running the tube hill (there's no lift but still needs a staff member there to rent tubes, etc) let us on for free =). The tubing hill at the Snow Bowl kicks ass; even with only the lower half open it's still probably about 80 vertical feet in a couple of chutes carved out by snow cats. You get going at the top, zoom down the hill and out onto a flat area. There's little berms to keep you from going out of the track, and a large berm at the end if you make it that far. The first run we took I had Raelin on my lap. At the bottom she declared she wanted her own tube. I told her she could have one after the next run, which she liked very much. I think it may have had to do with the color of the tube I had (dark green). She wanted a red one or a blue one, but I kept with the green. She ended up with a little orange one that fit her just perfect. I think she would have stayed there the entire day; too bad we had a birthday party to get to. We'll definitely be going back


• This morning I got up with Raelin. It was about 5:45 and quite dark out. I made her some toast, then lit a fire and laid out on the couch. She got her little stool and set it up in front of the fire to watch, and gave a little running commentary on what she saw "there's little circles in there that go around and around (making hand motions), and there's some orange fire and a little bit of blue fire, and some red fire, and some lellow (yellow) fire, and a little blue fire and some black fire, and some orange fire, and some red fire..."


• Raelin's come around a bit with the whole another-baby-will-be-here-soon thing. At one point she did state that the new baby would live at Nana's house, though this has thawed to her kissing Kelly's growing tummy and saying "I love you, baby." However, conversations about sharing toys definitely elicit a stoney faced response of "no." We also got her a book called Big Sister Now, which is really great. I'm not sure how many times a day Kelly reads it with her, though I know I read it with her almost every day.


• OK, as promised, here's the bit about the, shall we say, particularity phase she's now in. And by that I mean there's a particular way that everything needs to be done, namely Raelin needs to do it, or attempt to do it. While this may sound like a wonderful and empowering experience, which it is, it's also a very tiring and at times frustrating experience as if things don't get done the proper way, there is much screaming and crying until the situation is remedied. For instance, getting a cup of water, turning a light off or on, cooking breakfast, dialing a phone number, or getting dressed. Although the latter has really smoothed out as Raelin can almost competely dress herself now. Kelly, having spent *a lot* more time learning to work with this is much better than I am, though I'm learning, quite quickly I might add, that it just makes the most sense to be asking Raelin if she wants to do whatever menial little task I'm about to do. It really means a lot to her to do these things =)

End of Raelin update. On the Maine winter weather update, IT'S FINALLY HERE!!! We've gotten snow, and it's stayed below freezing enough that more snow has actually fallen on top of the other snow. Our plow guys have actually come twice this month to clear the driveway, and of course, this all leads up to one very crucial thing: the snowboarding has gotten good. And I mean, excellent. The snow this morning was just dreamy. Firm, groomed runs that give just enough when I dropped my edge in, and with enough depth than when I'd really crank on it the board just sliced that much deeper. And the ice is far enough down now that the rails don't find it on each turn, and it's cold enough that it's not like riding through mashed potatoes. Man it was so hard to call it a morning; I wanted to just stay up there all day and ride, ride, ride. Also doesn't hurt that with all the snow it's stop-in-my-tracks beautiful out there. Just incredible. Hopefully it'll stay cold this week and all the precip will be frozen.

One other thing

The blog is once again alive at www.kevcallahan.com. It's the same as here, just that it gets published there as well as here. Pretty cool =)

"Why Maine?"

This is perhaps the most asked question when I tell people back in CA that I've moved here. And most of the time, I'm at a loss for words, because I don't know how to quickly explain what it's like to live here. Today however, was a perfect example...

After many weeks of record warmth (it's historically the coldest week of the year; a couple days ago it was almost 50, which is oh, about 45 degrees warmer than that last couple of years), we finally got a decent dump of snow today. And not like it was cold or anything; it was above 32 most of the storm, so the flakes came down heavy and wet. I took a break from work to take Raelin outside sledding in the front yard; we also built a little snow man that she mostly interested in eating. Eating snow is one of her favorite things, and since the air was so warm, the snow easily stuck together in big clumps. Just as often though, she could be found face-down on the white stuff eating mouthfuls.

So after tooling around in the yard, we went on our merry way toward the lake and tried not very successfully to sled all the way down. Once we got down into the meadow though, it was stunning. When it snows like this, the flakes coat everything. And without wind to disturb it, any non-vertical surface builds up a layer of white. The world turned from the browns and grays of winter to a study of contrasts. Against the white of snow the gold of dried grass, the deep reds of berry canes, and the deep browns of leafless trees. All the while heavy wet flakes pouring down.

At one point, as I was pulling Raelin in the sled back up toward the house, I asked her "do you want to sled this hill again?" to which the answer was "no." "Do you want to go back to the house?" "no." "What would you like to do then?" "I wannna stay right here with daddy." So I sat down in the sled with her and we watched the snow fall. She with snowballs packed around her and I throwing a bit of raspberry root that Jasmine had pulled up to chase.

I mean, how awesome is that; to just sit out in the snow with my daughter who wants nothing more than to sit on my lap in her sled and eat snowballs while watching the dog chase a stick and snow fall from the sky?

We moved to Maine so days like today could happen. And for all the distance to loved ones, and the months of weather that drive us inside, it's worth it. So worth it.

More Rural Adventure

I'm now sitting here severely jacked up on adrenaline. Perhaps not as jacked up as the chicken I just rescued, but close...

As I was sitting here dialing in a new client's server and listening to some nice chill grooves, I hear the frantic clucking of one of our chickens. It's now 9:45; they should be asleep and locked in their house. Fuck; I left it open again. I grab my headlamp which happens to be on the desk and run for the door; 2 beady eyes glow at me through the slider. I think it's a racoon, but don't get a very good look with the low light of the LED headlamp. Jasmine gets a good enough look to pursue, catch, and start fighting with whatever it is; I can hear it snarling through the dark from our neighbor's yard. Jasmine is totally silent; she's kicking its ass. I call her off, she comes back reluctantly and Kelly comes out just in time to close the dog inside. I can still hear the animal growling down in the woods, so I throw a piece of oak limb wood toward the sound, which elicits a much loader growling snarling scream. I throw another one for good measure but get no response. The hen seems OK, totally freaked, but no blood and able to move all her parts. Kelly and I head over to the hen house, and after securing the first bird inside manage to find the other 4 along with a small pile of feathers.

It's very strange. I'm a total nature lover type. But man, when things start fucking with my animals I just lose it; I would have killed that coon/marten in a heartbeat with one of those sticks off our wood pile. The rage is a bit unnerving. I'm just glad everything worked out and all involved got away alive. I'll go down tomorrow morning and see if I find any blood or fur from whatever the animal was...

A Short One

I hope. It's late, just wanting to get a couple of things down, mostly nostalgic. In December I met a local geek, though since he's a student out of state, he's only local some times =)

Anyhow, I pinged him my photo site, which I haven't looked at in ages and keep meaning to update. And seeing some of those old photos was a trip, especially the ones from Santa Cruz.

What a time and place, especially the last few years we spent there up until right after Raelin was born. I suppose it's true that distance makes the heart grow fonder, though seeing the faces of old friends and haunts is bitter sweet indeed. And thiking about the places and the trails, the redwoods, the waves. It's easy to focus on the good things from here and forget about the traffic, the foggy summers, the drama of too many surfers and not enough waves.

Burning Man tickets went on sale today, and I'm still up in the air as to my commitment to going. I think I'll get a ticket, and then can always sell it if I can't go. It's tough as it's a long way and time to be gone. And I wonder, do I really need to do all that at this point in my life? I mean, I know it would be incredible, and I would have a blast seeing old friends and making new ones. But there's something nagging me about it. And that thing is the Sierra Nevada. I could spend a fraction of the money, and return to some of the places that I've been yearning for. The open granite, towering trees and peaks, and clean water. Take the opportunity to really slow down, which I'm pretty sure won't happen at BM.

I dunno, really have no idea. It's a tough nut to figure out, and I'm not sure just which way to approach it...

More Stooking

So the other night at tubby time, Raelin was happily splashing around while I sat and watched. We often have fun little chats while she's in the tubby; this one went like this:

R: Can you tell me about when the big poop gets stuck in the toilet and you have to use the plunger?

Me: (how many times do I have to talk about the damn plunger?) Hey, how about *you* tell *me* about that?!

R: Sometimes, when you make a big poop, it clogs up the toilet.

Me: And how big does the poop have to be to do that?

R: (holding hands apart, palms facing each other and smiling) It has to be about this big, no (moving them apart) *this* big.

Me: Wow, that's a pretty big poop, then what happens?

R: (one fist on top of the other held at chest level and vigorously pumping up and down) You have to get the plunger and STOOKE THE POOPY OUT!!!

Me: (almost falling over laughing)

You Know You're in Maine When...

OK, so we've had a long string of really warm winter weather. What started out as an epic snow year in early December has thawed and frozen into (at this point at least) yet another Northeast ice year. Especially since we keep getting storm systems coming up from the Gulf, which bring warmer temps (it was 53 a couple days ago) and hence rain. However, this post is not about weather, especially since I woulnd't dare bitch and moan about Maine winters on my blog that all you folks in CA read =)

This entry is really about chickens. You know, the 5 that live in a little henhouse I built with a little help from Kelly (ducking). When it started getting cold, I wired in a light fixture since some folks we know who live in MO that keep chickens just put a terra cotta pot over a 100 watt light in the hen house, which radiates enough heat to keep the birds warm. So that was thought #1, though I didn't want to spend a lot of time fucking around with hanging a pot, etc from the ceiling of the house. Also about this time, nights were getting below freezing, and hence the chickens' water was turning into ice. If you know anything about chickens, you know they are descended from wild tropical fowl native to SE Asia. In other words, they can't eat ice. It was at this point when I remembered we still had a big heat lamp from when the chicks were tiny. So I popped that puppy in there and *wham* the water was again, and the temp in the house quite a bit more than the outside temp.

Then, we got the weather. See, the extension cord is plugged into an outdoor outlet. The cover on said outlet is apparently not rated for "wet locations." I knew this, and had purchased a new cover, though had lagged on installing it since, well, it's cold out there, and when it's not cold it's raining, which is generally a bad time to be working on electrical outlets outside.

So, you guessed it, water got into the outlet. Not just any outlet, but since it's outside where water could possibly get into it, a GFCI outlet (the kind in the bathroom with the 2 buttons). So the outlet fried and the little red LED blinked on and the "reset" button popped out, though since it was daytime I couldn't see the light. Begin series of muttering and tromping down to the breaker in the basement to throw said breaker. Repeat to see if anything changes. Nope, no juice. Yup, cold temps. Yup, I just pissed away the whole day, the night is here, and my computer meteorologist app says "feels like 2 degrees." I concur; fucking nippy out in that wind.

To make things worse, I'd let the girls (the chickens) out in that morning, then the hen house door blew shut and it was many hours before I checked on them again to find them huddled tightly together in the wind shadow of their house trying to stay warm. Though there was the loner that had managed to stay inside looking out the window at the poor SOBs as they looked in at her. So I went out, and one by one picked them up and put them inside. They were so cold they didn't even protest =(

So it was with this guilt that I thought about them out there all night with a cold wind howling and temps sure to get lower, with no heat lamp. I couldn't stand it, so at 9:30 or so I decided they should stay the night in the basement. This is the part where you know you're in rural Maine. I mean, WTF brining 5 chickens inside so they don't get cold at night?!

Anyhow, I scrounged around the basement, our storage area down there, and my shop down there looking for something to build a pen out of. Not long before I found the roll of chicken wire Kelly had bought to put them in while their house was being constructed (this was before the days when we just let them roam free). So I built a little pen, put some towels down and a bowl of food (though no water since they have an incredible ability to shit in it if it's not above chick-ass level. Then brought them in one by one, turned out all the lights, and went to bed.

Fast forward to 6:30 this morning. Kelly's gone in to Raelin's room some time in the night, so I'm in our bed all alone as I wake up to the sound of loud clucking in the basement. I try to ignore it (perhaps one's laying an egg or something; they sometimes get excited for no apparent reason). But nope, "SQUAWWWWWWK!!!!" Kelly finally yells a groggy "KEVIN!!!" From the other room. Funny how a spouse can say you name in a way that conveys so much in a word. In this case "get you ass out of bed and see what the fuck those damn birds you brought in last night are doing."

So down the stairs I went to find my little pen on its side, the bowl of food spilled, chicken shit all over the towels (expected) and several other dollaps around the basement (unexpected). I found one bird looking out the basement slider, 3 hanging out by the oil tank (found them by following the trails of poop), and the squawker. From what I could tell, she'd tried to hop up on a hefty bag full of bubble wrap. What she ended up down was hopping into the bag of bubble wrap, which then rolled over on top of her and pinned her against the wall. Some of said bubble wrap also has packing tape on it, some of which had also stuck to the bird. She was fine, though was still squawking, and the first one to get put outside.

Needless to say, high on the priority list for today was getting that outlet replaced and the proper cover installed. All done, and I only gave myself one good jolt; man that puppy ran all the way up into my neck. I hate getting shocked...

What does it mean?

Raelin's at the phase now where she wants to know what things mean. And not things like "apple", "car", or any other concrete thing in the world. No, she wants to understand more abstract concepts.

Common questions these days are "what does focus/pay attention/notice/dilly dally mean?"

Try explaining those to a toddler without referencing them against each other =)

As I referenced, she is also very worried about poops clogging the toilet. It is routine when someone is pooping to have a concerned Raelin inquiring, either directly to that person or to someone else in the house, whether or not the toilet will get plugged up and the plunger will have to be used. In fact, when we're out and about and use a bathroom, she always checks to make sure there is a plunger there and often points out that one is missing.

Anyhow, a few days ago I was on the throne and she was asking me about clogging up the toilet, to which I laughed and said no. The ensuing conversation went something like this:

R: are you going to plug up the toilet and need the plunger?

me: naw, daddy never clogs the toilet. so you know how big a poopie has to be to plug up the toilet?

R: yeah.

me: it has to be....this big (holding out my hands palms facing each other like I was showing the length of a caught fish).

R: (smiling) yeah.

me: no, it has to be...this big (making them wider)

R: (laughing) yeah. It has to be this big (doing the same thing)

So know that's kind of a running joke between us. Betcha thought I was gonna say I clogged the toilet up after that run up huh? Well I didn't. So there.

Anyhow, the body movement that Raelin has adopted for plunging the toilet is very similar to another action; stoking the fire. But she calls it "stooking," which is very funny cuz she'll say something like "daddy, stooke the fire!" while doing this hand motion.

And back the "what does it mean." A very good 4-legged friend of ours passed away recently. I just found out yesterday that Kaya had been euthanized due to complications from cancer. I was there the day Bartlebee brought her home to our divy duplex where Adam, Juli, Kelly, and B lived with a couple other folks. Kaya and Kelly and my dog Jake became fast friends, and the dogs brought us all together like no other thing in the world can. Seeing Kaya was always one of the highlights of visiting SF. The last time I spent any length of time with her was a solo backpack trip I did on a whim in 2003 right before we moved to Maine. She and I spent 3 long sunny days lounging on glacial-polished granite and sand, swimming, snoozing, snacking, sitting and watching. The best kind of trip. It was a blast and so good to have her there. She will certainly be missed.

After I found out, I went upstairs to tell Kelly, and Raelin was sitting there. So we tried to explain that Kaya had died, and was no longer "here". I wasn't about to try to get into the metaphysics of it =)

Last night was Kelly's co-op night, so it was again the Raelin and Daddy show. At one point she started asking the hard questions:

R: did Bartlebee's doggie die?

me: yes, her doggie died

R: is her doggie dead now?

me: yes, her doggie is dead

R: is she sad?

me: yes, we're all very sad about it

R: is Jasmine dead?

me: no, though one day in a long time she will die (dumbshit, you shouldn't known where this was going to go)

R: is Reggie dead?

me: no, he's not

R: but someday he will die.

me: that's right (uh oh...)

R: are you dead?

me: no sweety, I'm certainly not dead

R: someday are you going to die? is mommy going to die someday?

me: (shit shit shit, uhhhhhh) what do you think?

R: no, you're never going to die

me: (phew) ok, if you say so

So I was left relieved, though confused; at what point do I balance truth about the world and protecting the emotional being of Raelin? I mean, at some point I can't of course, but now, I pretty much have to, and trying to explain death to a 2 year old just seems like an uphill battle, especially when she starts freaking out thinking that I (or Kelly) will keel over and be gone. Never mind the added complexity of trying to describe our beliefs about what happens after death.

Raelin Ramble

Happy New Year, BTW...

OK, so she came up with a new one that has triggered me blogging it and a couple others...

This morning I went into Raelin's room; Kelly was already there. Kel looked at me and said "she just told me that 'Moon music is loud oatmeal music'". Really.

In other news, when we all went our own ways for Thanksgiving, we left Reggie (the cat) here. When we returned, there was much vomit and a couple dried up, though previously very liquid poops in Raelin's room. Throw in some lack of apetite and general lethargy and there's one sick kitty.

So we took him to the doc, and got blood work, and then urine work, and all for naught; he healed himself. The doc thought that he likely ate something that tweaked him a bit (not her exact words). Anyhow, so when I got home I told Kelly and I guess Raelin was there, too, the prognosis and my thought that perhaps it was a mouse or something that he ate.

Now, Raelin, being the toddler she is, needs to process things thoroughly. This particular incident has been told over and over. Perhaps the only thing rivaling "about when Reggie was choking up food" is when the toilet gets plugged up and the plunger is needed. I'm not sure if this has anything to do with her resistance to poop in the potty, but that's another story.

So back to the Reggie thing. About a week ago I came home and Raelin and Kelly were sitting on the couch reading a book. Kelly said "tell Daddy what you just told me." Never quite knowing what to expect, I was still thrown for a laughing loop when Raelin, never really looking up from the book, and in a very calm tone says "I was out in the woods, and I think I ate a mouse...or something." My response was something like "Really? Did you eat a squirrel while you were at it?" To which she responded "yeah, it was a mouse, or a squirrel, or a chipmunk or something"

So classic. The other couple things that she's doing that are a total riot, are these faces she makes when she says something funny. One is just an open mouthed smile, but her mouth all the way open. The other is when she starts with the silent open mouthed smile, then pulls her lips tight over her teeth. It's hard to describe but totally funny. The other thing is that now when you ask her something, if she wants it, she'll frequently answer with "that would be great." The thing is, her intonation is just priceless and again, pretty indescribable.

In other news, the dog, in a moment of excitement, tried to jump into the back of the car just as Kelly was opening the hatchback. She managed to slam the bridge of her nose right into the thin edge of the door, and with her size and weight behind her, it's not a surprise that she spit the skin right open. Not a lot of bleeding or even gaping, but still a spilt about an inch and a half long.

Also, our chickens are all laying an egg a day. Very cool, especially since it was a real crapshoot since we're in winter whether or not they would all start laying. Let me tell you though, nearly half a dozen eggs a day adds up if you don't keep eating them. We're now sitting on a dozen, and tomorrow morning there will be 5 more. Time to start sharing the wealth =)

And that's about it for now. Time to go to bed.