moving right along
daily elliot bay photo
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things my eyes read
collections of nothing

Oscar decided that he didn;t want to wait until the end of August. He showed up a 9:09am 8/13/2010.

The pictures aren’t anything bizzare, wacky or exciting. Just good times by good people.

In front of the house on the fourth of July.

Le Panier is a lovely spot for lunch.  A popular spot for lingering tourists stopping off for a french baked good and a quick pick me up.  Pre-made sandwiches displayed in the case are my draw.  Crudités, Jambon-Fromage, and Pâté de Campagne are provide the nourishment to finish the arduous day and recharge the batteries.  Times have progressed as this bit of nourishment has increase by a half dollar.  The chewy baguette makes you work for you lunch.

To obtain this prize, you must enter the confines of the Pike Place Market.  Entering the market on a summer day is not something that is undertaken by the meek or those short on time.  Wandering and gaping are popular pastimes around the noontime hour during summer’s call.  Flowers fishes, and vegetables are presented in their splendor with the gentle waves and breeze beckoning from nearby Elliot Bay.  Tables adjacent to this harvest are lined with belt buckles adorned with the Space Needle, waxy sticks of honey presented in an array of flavors, and t-shirts adorned with wolves howling at the distant moon.  Opportunities like this don’t present themselves as often as they should!

Headphones on, with eye on the prize mentality, I enter the gauntlet of the market on a summer afternoon.  I weave through the masses on the sidewalk.  As long as the caravan  keeps moving, the sidewalk will remain my domain.  Eventually, the eyes of the outsiders can not resist the allure of the tourist trappings.  The need to escape the confines of the sidewalk weighs heavily on my brow as the forward progress declines.  Luckily the roadway along the market stretch is full of slow moving traffic.  It provides a quick escape route if the mass influx of people refuses to move.  The cars are much easier to avoid than the stoppage of the human experience.  But alas, without the mobs from abroad descending upon the market, these options may not be available to me on a daily basis.  I may be salty but I am still practical.

This thought goes along with the previous desire to write more.  Writing is a challenge for myself on the computer when the only purpose it serves is to appease my desire to record my own thoughts.  The ability to instantly edit my thoughts and words as I go along is too tempting.  By the time I backtrack and edit the last thought, the next thought has already disappeared into the fog of the brain.  I’ve begun to write out everything longhand in a notebook, then revisit it and transcribe it to the computer.  Some editing takes place during the initial typing for clarity and then the overall awesomeness that it deserves gets crafted during the finishing phase.  The separation of the process initially has presented me with the opportunity to write more ideas and to decrease the initial self censoring that can occur when writing straight to the computer.

Current observations of Otto. Like all new parents, each moment continues to surprise. The leaps in comprehension and communication that little boys and girls take in such a short time span are truly amazing.

Name association is a recent adventure. Traveling in the car last Saturday, I mentioned to Otto we were going to visit Chard at work. His quick reply was, “and Ang?” I was clueless that he had those connections together. I should know better. He can recite the whole crowd from daycare with the slightest provocation.

The brain processes many things simultaneously and creates new outcomes to match the situation. Words are synthesized to the most logical conclusion. The first word that float in the air are “Mama.” When that doesn’t have the desired affect, “Papa” is shouted.  The determination in his voice is firm as he rattles off the third mythical beast in the series that will save him from the clutches of his current predicament – “MAAAAPAAAAA!”

Mama sings varying tones of no-no to Otto.  The song twists and turns throughout most of the alphabet – po-po, mo-mo, co-co, bo-bo. The final salvo ends in lo-lo with mama dropping her voice as deep as it can go. Otto erupts with peels of laughter and she tones out the last phrase, descending deeper until her voice disappears.

Otto is on a mission to regain control from mama and papa when going to bed at night. The process has been mama and papa centric up to this point. A good deal of book reading, perhaps a little boob, a little rocking, and then sitting in the dark singing songs to the little man as he drifted off to the other side.   But a trip to Albuquerque presented Otto with a new experience, little children manage to go to sleep on their own! Otto had tried to get us to do this earlier but he realized mama and papa were not quite ready for that step.   But back from our journey to the south, Otto thought he would give us another try and see if we could work with him.   Otto gets the benefit of books being read and songs being sung as we wind him down for the night. He sips on a cup of milk and begins to fall into the night. Otto gets whisked away to his waiting crib to read a few more books in his crib with his good friends, elmo, grover, and the lorax. The initial moments still hold some anxiety, but quickly fades away.  I think it is more of an act to let mama and papa down just a bit easier as another chapter in his life moves forward.

Even now as I scribble on my paper, I try to remember the little events that slip through my mind. Maybe I’ll ask mama and write more about the past from the thoughts she throws out. Perhaps I will just focus on the future.  A few more Otto tales before I move on.

Otto gets up in the morning and follows mama around as she gets ready for work. When the routine arrives back to the bedroom, he boosts himself back into bed next to me. He pulls the covers up, lies his head on the pillow, and says “night, night.”

The squeals of laughter echo through the house as bath winds down.  I lift him out of the tub and envelope him in a towel dry him off.  Released from my clutches, he goes stomping off to stalk the elusive mama in parts unknown.   He turns the corner, spies mama, shifts the afterburners on with the right arm pumping, directly into mama’s arms. After a big squeeze, he wiggles himself free, turns around, and bolts out through the hallway.  Arms waving above his head, little butt scampering away,  screeching at the top of his lungs. Trying to simultaneously be captured and escape the evil clutches of papa.

(props to mikey for the art – i’ve been thinking about grabbing more and writing short paragraphs about them also.)

8/13
Tense muscles are pulling tight on the fingers. Relaxation is not an option. Is it supposed to feel like this? Fingers fumble furiously over the electrolyte filled bottle. Push the palm against the cap and try to pry it loose. Look around for some assistance. Offer the bottle to the baby. Giggles rebound over the request. Splash! Splash! Splash! Tiny fingers show off their dexterity. Re-channel the energies at the task at hand. Need a distraction from the pain. The liquid is something to wash down the little orange pills to fool the pain.

8/12
Insert a portion of your eye into the realm beyond the last light. Does your eye perceive the change without the presence of your brain? Or does it cease to connect with the cortex as it passes the barrier? The lights are fantastic. A spherical pattern trails and follows the eye as the last light fades into the distance. Has the order been rearranged while the eye begins to emit new electrical impulses throughout the darkness that it leads into? Is it too late to return? Has the eye purchased a new direction in its existence?

This monkey has got nothing on me....

Say hello to my little friend.

Walking Around from beef moe dee on Vimeo.