Saturday, October 10, 2015

Once in a while.

I had one of those very rare successes in parenting today.  Not that it looks like it's permanent.

Smidgen - who is now 10... (your eyes can't be bugging out more than mine)... is, of course, a child of these times.

Plugged in, far too often.  Her school allows kids to count books as "read" - if they are not read, but  merely listened to, via the omnipresent omnipotent earphones.

I struggle against it- particularly as these are the years when she is really able to see and remember the world around her.  She's had plenty of great experiences so far- but I find that the really wonderful time we had together when she was 5 - she cannot recall.

So this morning - a gorgeous bright October day, brisk in all the best traditions, maples right at peak color, sky pellucid blue - she announced that ho-hum she was going to lounge her butt upstairs and see if maybe she could find something to do.

I did not actually throw her outside and off the porch, though the impulse was hard to resist.  But we did have a substantial father-daughter conversation about inside, outside, days which can never be recovered, lost opportunities, October, and all that stuff.

She can be enticed into things.  So I baited her into going outside- and making noise, something she is appallingly fond of.  "Go strangle your duck outside, down into the valley."

Go strangle your duck is our current code for practicing her newly adopted oboe; particularly when it is operated in its weaponized mode.  She's decided not to be offended, but rather to cheerfully accept the language.  "Can't, my duck is in the car, not here."

"Fine.  Then get one of your old recorders, and go play that."

"Okay!  ...  Which one, the blue or the red?"

Getting very close to the just actually throwing her, at this point, which I was able to convey.

She went.  Out.  Until she came back in after 5 minutes; "Daddy!!  You have to come, QUICK!"

Really?  And why is that?  Any hints?  Is something bleeding rapidly?  Have we discussed clarity in communication previously?


And there is.  And the owl came - because of the weird trilling and clucking she was producing from the recorder.  Really.  Flew right up.

Young and foolish, almost certainly, and calm enough that I was able to go back in the house for the camera, which does not have a telephoto lens but is a camera I know well - and get this, which is greatly enlarged from - this -

Really, the owl is there.  And Smidgen is a complete owl freak; she collects any that can be collected, drinks out of an owl mug I brought back from a trip... etc.  And it is a Barred Owl.

I did not fail to point out that I had been correct about the advantages of being outside.

She graciously deigned to agree.

But it wore off, after lunch.

I'll take what I can get.  :-)


Snooge said...

Your recent Polka Dot Gallows reminded me of this post from TAE

Polka Dot Gallows time, from CNN biz:

"Economy: Investors were hardly encouraged by the latest reading from the housing front as home prices fell 2.5% during the final three months of 2009, according to the S&P/Case-Shiller Home Price Index released Tuesday.

The latest numbers suggest that the decline in home values seen over the last several years may finally be stabilizing."


I literally broke into laughter when I read that.

HOW do you train people to write like that!!!????

There's got to be a secret school, somewhere, for MSM Bizness Writing.

Where they obviously teach something like:

"Whenever reporting really bad news, ALWAYS follow the paragraph with another, explaining how this is actually good news. Lie all you want; but fairy tales are more effective than blunt lies."


ah, what mortals we fools be.

How deliciously ironic that this was indeed the bottom of the market. In hindsight, the fool was you...

Greenpa said...

Snooge- I am SO gratified that you keep such memories of my commentaries!

Oh, and wait a bit. The bottom - is yet ahead, rest assured.