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April 11, 2006
Fire and the Storm
The storm of the century approaches.
There will be ten to twenty tornadoes in your area.
Hail is expected. Stay indoors if at all possible.
So, the storm is coming. I decide to leave work early and prepare. Get the kids beds set up in the basement, make sure we have water, find a flashlight or two, make sure the cell phone is handy.
As I pull into a gas station at the bottom of the ridge we live on, I notice smoke billowing out from behind the ridge. Billowing. Right where my house should be.
I immediately turn around and race up the ridge praying that everyone is alright. Once I reach our road, I become calmer. There is no smoke coming from anywhere on our road. Everyone is okay.
Once arriving home, I go outside with Ender to see if we can determine the source of the fire.
The smoke is coming from further along the ridge, and within minutes, we hear the distant cry of sirens.
Fast forward 4 hours.
The storm is about to hit. Everything has been set up in the basement. So, I go outside to watch as the roiling mass of clouds wends its way towards us.
Night has fallen, and yet as I look outside, I see a faint glow along the ridge. It doesn't seem to be the city. I call my wife for verification.
Its a glow. Not from unnatural light. Perhaps the fire is still burning.
So, we go to the front porch, to get a different angle and see if we can determine where the glow is coming from.
The front porch makes it easy. Straight across from us, about a quarter to a half-mile away, there are about 15 fires on the mountainside.
Posted by oriondark at 12:42 PM | Comments (0)
Baseball Newbies
So Ender, 6, is now playing baseball.
I never thought much of the game. Too much standing around, like golf.
Its a bit shocking, still, to remember the little helpless guy I held 6 years ago and then see him out on the baseball field.
He was on the pitcher's mound, not pitching, mind you; its how his age group plays.
I watched with mild interest as he put his hands on his thighs and got into your typical baseball stance. They never covered that in practice as far as I saw.
He also began drawing lines in the dirt with his shoe, and acting like your typical baseball player. (Next game, I'm going to try and get him a large wad of bubble game.)
He flipped his hat backwards, then received a call from one of the coaches.
"Ender, when you get the ball, throw it to first."
He immediately turned around to the first basemen, eyed him and said, "You'd better be ready."
Where'd that come from?
But all in all the big baseball player still returns home. Even with the stances, the seriousness of the game, and his friends all around him, he snuck out of the dugout to give me a hug and a kiss, and to say goodbye, as I had other duties calling me elsewhere.
That's the boy I raised.
Posted by oriondark at 12:31 PM | Comments (3)
Broken Chair
How do children's minds work? And what spins them into the gears that rotate upon.
A couple of nights ago, one of our dining room chairs was broken, and obviously so. Even a child could tell that it was broken.
And she did.
Now this is where my wife and I don't always see eye to eye. Its the confusion and uncertainty of the children that I seek to root out; to sharpen their wits, to make them perceive through the veil that is cast upon them in this harsh world.
My wife would say that I am the one sowing the confusion. Creating it out of thin air. Moving the children into the realm of the uncertain. Well, perhaps it is so.
So, the other morning, enter Auralia. At this point, she is two years old, has developed quite the strong will ("From her father." says her mother), and still is working on piercing the veil of confusion that so easily surrounds two year olds.
"Auralia, why did you break my chair?"
She looks confused, as expected, "I didn't break your chair."
"Auralia, why did you break my chair?"
Obviously, defending herself gets her nowhere, so she doesn't answer.
"Do you think I should spank you for breaking my chair? Come here."
So, I'm possibly sowing some confusion, but I do have intent.
"But, I didn't break your chair," she says as she moves a little out of my reach.
"Auralia come here."
She continues in her defense. I guess she thinks that now it is the only thing standing between her and a spanking.
At this point, my wife chimes in, "Why do you do these things to our children?"
Why, indeed. To pierce the veil of confusion; to make them confident that their father will only punish the things that they do, and not the things that they do not do.
Auralia has arrived.
"Auralia, did you break my chair?"
"No."
"Auralia, did you break my chair?"
"No."
Auralia, did you break my chair?"
"Yes."
Hmmm... "Why did you break my chair?"
"Because I wanted to, dad."
Check and mate. Its the grinding of those intangible gears that I love.
Of course I gave her an extremely hard spanking.. Wait, no I didn't. I just laughed and hugged her as my wife rolled her eyes.
What then, will happen tomorrow?
Posted by oriondark at 12:21 PM | Comments (2)