Cribbage, Anyone?

I love games, and my most reliable partner for games in our house is my son, Quinn. He's 13, which means he's most often inclined to be off in some corner of the house doing his own thing, but almost anytime I ask when I'm home from work, he'll agree to a game.

If we can convince anyone else to join us, we'll usually play Settlers of Catan, Sorry, Uno, Spite and Malice, or Code Names. If it's just the two of us? It cycles among Backgammon, Rummy, Abalone, Boggle, and Cribbage. During isolation, it's been pretty much all just Boggle or Cribbage.

But our Cribbage board was annoying. It's the type where you have to move your pegs around your track twice to finish, and on evenings when we're fading a little, we can honestly forget which round we're on and suddenly have no idea who is actually winning. We decided it would be better to have a board with one, long winding track from start to finish.

So why not make our own board? Looked easy enough, and I can make things.

Of course it didn't go quite as planned, but I like the final result anyway. Behold our new Cribbage board!

Pretty, huh?

Now let me explain what a goofy adventure this turned out to be.

At least as a violin maker I knew I could find a nice piece of wood lying around to work with. I happen to have a small pile of odds and ends that were given to me by a nice wood supplier in Washington state when I was out West for a VSA convention many years ago. Wood that was too thin or didn't have its book-matched partner, etc. I dug around in that pile and found a piece of maple that was never going to be a violin, and made it into a shape and thickness I could use.

For pegs in the board we went to American Science and Surplus and found matching rods of brass, and "music wire" (whatever that might be--didn't come up in music school), and I sawed them into little pieces and polished the ends smooth. (Quinn has barely been out of the house since the pandemic shut everything down back in March. It was strange to wander around one of our favorite stores while wearing masks, but it was also nice to get out and do something purely fun for a change.)

Once I knew the thickness of the pegs we'd be playing with, we decided how we wanted the layout of the track to go. We penciled in spots for drilling, and I hit my drill press. This is where my general lack of patience decided to teach me a lesson. There are 120 holes per player on the board. (Plus a few extra for a tally of how many games each person has won.) The smart thing would have been to poke a hole to mark each spot before trying to drill them, but ugh, that seemed like a lot to do. I thought, eh, how hard could drilling holes in straight lines be?

Ha! After the second hole I just started laughing. The flame in the wood was guiding my drill bit into odd places, and it was beyond my control. After about half a dozen holes I realized I was either going to have to start completely over, or just deal with the bizarre mess I was creating. I decided to plunge ahead with my Cribbage board that with each new hole was looking more and more like the drill press version of a failed test for drunks at a traffic checkpoint. I showed it to Ian and Aden when I came up from the basement, and they both asked what happened. I told them at least no one would ever ask where we bought our new Cribbage board from.

So I pondered the wonky holes for a day and decided that an artistic solution was the way to go. I got out a nice pen and went to work between projects on my bench one day. I created the vine design, and now it looks maybe like it's all on purpose. Quinn looked pleased anyway, when I showed him the finished board. That's all that really matters to me.

I used an old box from a rosin I bought at a violin convention in 2004 (from which the rosin has long ago been used up) to store the scoring pegs. Maybe someday I'll make a case to keep the whole thing together along with the necessary deck of cards, but not now.

Not exactly the kind of project I was hoping to complete during all of our unexpected free time, but still fun. It always feels good to make something. Strangely, of late, I feel busier than ever. Which I don't understand since so many activities were wiped from our calendar. But somehow I'm having even more trouble making time for the things I most want to do.

In any case, one day when we look back on our pandemic days, we'll have a pretty cribbage board made from violin maple to show for it. I love game time with Quinn. That will be part of this whole mess I will be able to remember with nothing but fondness.

Quinn the Hoatzin

No, I'd never heard of it either. When we started brainstorming costumes for this Halloween, Quinn settled on some kind of bird and simply searched around the internet until he found one he liked.

Hoatzins are striking birds from more tropical regions of our hemisphere, but so far I've only had one friend know what they are (because she saw them on a bird watching expedition). I asked Quinn if he minded dressing as something no one would recognize, and he was fine with that. (As the costume maker, the idea that the more accurate my creation the less likely anyone would know what I made is a bit discouraging, but no more so than the thirteen-lined-ground-squirrel or the chimera, and those made my kid happy, which is really the only point.)

I think it came out okay. Quinn was not thrilled that I wanted pictures before I got around to painting his beak a darker shade of grey, but eh. The costume is comfortable and warm, which considering how the temperature keeps dropping here makes it practical. I've always been glad that my kids have never needed to wear a coat over their costumes. (My memories of trick-or-treating in Detroit involve a lot of rain.)

Anyway, behold the hoatzin! Can't help you with the proper pronunciation, but at least you have an idea how such a bird might look out of fleece now.

Quinn the Chimera

 
Quinn has been selecting Halloween costumes based on checking different categories off a list: mammal, reptile, arthropod, bird, fish, etc.  Among the remaining categories he was contemplating this year were amphibian and mythical creature, and he finally settled on mythical creature, specifically a Chimera.

Now, I knew a Chimera was a mash-up of different animals from Greek mythology, but honestly didn't remember (if I ever knew) the specifics.  Being imaginary, the details vary depending on the source you use, but after looking online, Quinn settled on: goat legs for the lower half, lion on top, a snake for a tail, wings, and the heads of a goat, lion, and dragon.

So this was kind of like making several costumes.  I'm just glad he decided on it early so I could start it back in September.

Dubuque

Due to a weird transition happening in our public school system's scheduling, my two oldest kids went back to class in the middle of August, but my youngest doesn't start until after Labor Day this year.  He got an extra three weeks of summer vacation, but while everyone else was in a different routine.  It's been odd.

I asked him if there was anything he would like to do during this last little bit of time he had free while his sisters were away all day, and he decided he wanted to go to Iowa.  He has a passion for geography as well as a desire to check things off lists, and Iowa is the only state that borders Wisconsin that he'd never been to.  We took to Google Maps and determined the closest destination from our house would be Dubuque.

I picked a day that was likely to be slow enough at work that I wouldn't be needed so that Ian could take the store, and after the girls were off to school, Quinn and I hit the road.  It's only about two and a half hours to the Iowa border, so not a big deal in our book.  We fussed with the GPS and found a restaurant to aim for, and enjoyed an easy drive where we left the rain on our side of the state and enjoyed clear skies over the Mississippi.

Quinn the Lion Fish

This is officially the most labor intensive costume I've been asked to do yet.  But I think it came out looking good!

When I asked Quinn a few months ago what he wanted to be for Halloween there was a deceptive pause in his answer that gave me hope for a simple costume this year.  He said, "I want to be a lion... fish."  A lion would have been easy.  My mind went to a couple of elements I could use to make it cool and knew I could knock it out in about a day.  But then the word "fish" came into the picture and I realized, no, this was going to be a challenge.

Reading the Bill of Rights

When I work in the kitchen or drive somewhere I usually listen to the news on the radio.  Quinn, if he's helping me out or along for a ride, listens too.  We used to play a game on the drive to Latin where before I would turn on the news we would each guess what the topic might be and see who got closer.  But now it's all Trump all the time, so that game has lost its appeal.

Usually when we listen to the news Quinn has questions.  Some of them are obvious, many are not, and too often I can't answer them as well as I'd like.  (That's where Google comes in handy.)

The other day during a particular news story they kept talking about first amendment rights and Quinn asked what that meant.  I explained that the first ten amendments of the Constitution of the United States are referred to as the Bill of Rights, and the first one guaranteed freedom of religion, speech, and assembly.  We had an interesting discussion about what the exceptions were.  We talked about different ways people have found to confront speech they didn't like.

In any case, the thing that surprised me as I had this conversation with my son in the kitchen as I was chopping vegetables, was that I realized as I was talking to him that I couldn't name all ten amendments.  I can name all ten commandments from the bible even though it's not my thing.  I apparently use the Jewish numbering which I didn't realize until I looked it up to explain to Quinn that different religions using those same commandments actually number then differently.  (This is something I wonder about when people put up ten commandment monuments since however they get numbered is a nod to a particular sect, not just to Judeo-Christian culture in general, but whatever.)  The average person I run into who claims to construct their life around those commandments can't actually name them, which I find either amusing or irritating depending upon the day.

But then I claim to hold up the Constitution as central to the choices I have available to me as a citizen of this country, and yet I wouldn't be able to tell someone what was in the entire Bill of Rights.

I had Quinn Google it and read me each amendment aloud.  I was sort of stunned by how much of it was unfamiliar.  So for anyone else on this American holiday who wants a refresher course on the Bill of Rights, here they are along with a few notes about what Quinn and I discussed as we read through them:

Quinn the Lobster!

Check out my son the lobster!

I gave myself a head start on Halloween costumes this year because I knew I wouldn't have a lot of time in October, but then it turns out I only needed to make one costume.

Latin Review

Come June, Quinn and I will have been taking Latin for one year.  It's one hour a week after school up at the university, with usually one week off a month for a scheduling conflict.  The teacher is wonderful, and Quinn and I meet him in a study room at the library.

Quinn by our parking meter

It's fun having that bit of time with just Quinn.  We have a routine that involves laughing over whether the parking meter will give us a receipt or not (it rarely does, so Quinn collects the ones we do get), pretending to trip over a mysterious bit of useless curb on the way to the library, and critiquing the selections in the vending machine if we have to wait for our lesson.  (Observation about candy choices:  Most of them are variations anymore.  There are usually a couple of kinds of Starburst, a few different M&Ms, consistently three types of Skittles, a variety of Cheetos, several shapes of pretzels...  The Snickers even come in different versions now.  The only unique selections seem to be the Reese's Cups and the odd Take 5 or Zero bar.  You're welcome.)

Quinn on the tiny curb

We also got a good laugh one day out of a whole bunch of caution signs in the entryway which looked like they presented more of a hazard than they were attempting to prevent.  Quinn and I find amusement everywhere, so even without the actual Latin lessons we enjoy our weekly outing.

I hadn't planned on taking Latin myself, and it's humbling to watch Quinn do so much better with it than I do.  I can't tell if it's because I'm just old, or if he's that much smarter than I am.  (Probably both.)  Regardless, Latin has turned out to be really enjoyable.

Fish Cake!

Well, chocolate cake, anyway, shaped to look like a fish.

I'm not sure why this year Quinn settled on "fish" as a dessert theme for his birthday (even took cupcakes to school with Swedish Fish on them), especially since his party was at a roller skating rink, but the fish cake was easier than the peacock cake, so I didn't mind.

Quinn the Iguana

I've got it relatively easy this year for Halloween costumes.  Partially because I've got the process down by now, and mostly because of my daughters' choices.  Aden wants to recycle an older costume, and Mona wants to make most of hers herself.  The only costume I was making myself from scratch was Quinn's.  Quinn asked to be an iguana.

Last year everyone wanted wings.  This year it's all about tails.  Iguanas have nice, long tails.

Quinn picked out some green fleece, I made my standard jumpsuit, got some lighter fleece for the front and the frill, and spent an evening watching Netflix while stitching on the grey spiky bits along the spine.  Quinn helped me stuff the tail and then I took it to work to paint.

Learning to Fail

People often assume since I'm a violin teacher that I instruct my own kids, and are then surprised when I tell them I'm smart enough not to.  I already tell my kids how to do everything else, and violin is hard, and sometimes having mom criticize one more thing is too much.  There are meta-messages to overcome.  When I point out a mistake, that has a weight and a history that anyone else trying to say the same thing wouldn't be burdened with.  Criticism from mom can hurt no matter how well-meaning it is or how gently it's offered.  Because no one wants to let down mom.

But for various reasons my kids' violin instruction has fallen to me this summer.  It has been trying.  At first I was kind of excited, because I love to teach violin and have lots of ideas and materials I want to share, and I've kept my distance for many years so as to not step on another teacher's toes.  This would be a chance to be involved in a way I haven't been.  I even found pieces the three of them could learn to play together.  I couldn't wait.  Unfortunately, however, most of the lessons end in tears.

I'm a fairly patient teacher, and have often been told I'm a good one, but my kids are terrified of disappointing me, so it gets complicated quickly.  I can instruct them in other things, like cooking or archery, or almost anything else, frankly.  But violin is different.  It's at the center of most of what I do, and playing in front of me makes them nervous.  It doesn't matter how often I reassure them, or praise their efforts, or tell them hearing them play always brings me joy.  When I attempt to correct an error or push them to try something harder, they fall to pieces.  It breaks my heart.

This week's lesson with Quinn, though, we had a talk about it, and it was interesting.

Latin Lessons

After almost four years we are finally getting around to Latin lessons for Quinn.

Quinn, age 4, excited about his new book

I'm not sure why he's always wanted to learn Latin, but back in 2011 to distract him from his impending tonsillectomy, I ordered him a copy of Latin is Fun online and he was really excited.

The problem was I didn't know Latin, and I wasn't qualified to teach him.  We got him other materials (he even has a copy of The Cat in the Hat in Latin), but without someone to guide us with accepted pronunciation we were kind of lost.  Latin wound up on the back burner, and there is always so much else to do it was easy to keep it there.

But I recently had a conversation with a friend who has a son the same age as Quinn who is learning ancient Greek, and he recommended we contact the Classics Department at the local university in order to find a tutor.  Turns out the same man teaches both Greek and Latin and was happy to fit in Quinn for lessons.  We've had two lessons so far and it's been a lot of fun.

A New Mold-A-Rama, and Quinn Turns Eight

Quinn is eight.

I've been thinking about the difference between Quinn turning eight compared to when Aden turned eight.

Aden was my first baby.  In some ways she'll always be a baby to me.  But as the oldest she's always ahead, and always the first to arrive at certain milestones.  It was with Aden that we had to learn how to let her form her own life outside of us at school, and to walk to the store alone, and to take on new and more complex responsibilities.  Next to her siblings her most notable feature is always that she is older.

Peacock Cake

Quinn requested a peacock cake for his birthday.  Took a bit of work, but I think it came out nice.

Actually, he originally requested a pigeon birthday cake and a peacock Halloween costume, but remembering back to his grey and black Roomba cake when he was two I told him a peacock cake might be more appetizing and definitely tastier.  He agreed and switched the requests.  (And his pigeon costume came out cute, so I'm glad he did.)

(Here's the Roomba cake if you're curious.  Quinn loved our Roomba and that was his first real word after "Mama.")

Pigeon's Progress

Quinn asked to be a pigeon for Halloween this year.

That may seem mundane to many, but to my kids pigeons are exotic.  In Milwaukee we have seagulls, which apparently eat pigeons, so what few pigeons we have congregate in minor numbers under bridges here and there.  One of the great joys of visiting New York when we go is seeing so many pigeons and my children adore them.  So when Quinn asked to be a pigeon I could see the appeal.  (And yes, he's already been told by several people he will not get to drive the bus.)

I felt up to a pigeon challenge!

Double Dad Day

I got to spend Father's Day with both my husband and my dad this year.  I don't know if that's ever happened before.  My dad's been staying with us for the past couple of weeks while my mom has been on a trip.  He worries that he's a burden since he needs help getting around and we have to keep track of his medication, etc., but he's not a burden; he's my dad.

I feel bad that I haven't been able to get him out to a bookstore yet like he wanted, but the only day I had free from work the weather made it too complicated.  (Dealing with a walker and an umbrella while trying to cope with parking on the East Side was more than I felt I could handle.)  Other than that it's been a good visit with lots of Scrabble playing.

The highlight for me was having both Ian and dad at my concert on Sunday.  I play so many concerts I know my dad would enjoy that he can't be here for, and from my end there's nothing like having someone you love in the audience.  This weekend the Milwaukee Mandolin Orchestra had a Father's Day concert in a beautiful church up near the university.  The building had real Tiffany stained glass windows and the acoustics were amazing--no need for mics which was great.

The first half of the concert was our artistic director, Rene Izquierdo, on solo guitar, which is always wonderful, and the second half was the orchestra.  We did a nice assortment of tunes, from Classical pieces to Irish songs to Tin Pan Alley standbys....  It wasn't perfect, but parts of it were better than we've ever sounded, and I was so happy my dad could be there.

When I went to meet him at the end of our performance he told me he was so proud, and he got a little weepy, which meant it took a lot to keep myself from getting weepy.  It was about as good a Father's Day moment as one could ask for.

But what I think of as an important Father's Day moment for Ian actually happened a couple of months ago.

Reading Buddy

I love to read.  I'm putting more effort into making time to read lately, because that was one of those things that went out the window when I started having kids and now I want it back.  It's not due to just a lack of time in general, but a lack of uncluttered brain time.  Having small children jumbled my mind up in a way that made reading for pleasure difficult for years.

My kids, until fairly recently, have not been much into reading on their own.  They love to be read to (we are currently in the middle of the second Harry Potter book and they beg for me to keep going at the end of each chapter), and they certainly have plenty of books, but they don't read the way I did as a kid.  Aden did get sucked into the Warrior series (which is some epic drama about cats), and Quinn does go poking through his shelves from time to time, but most of the reading my kids do is at school.

This past weekend I read Divergent because I needed a page turner after having struggled to finish The Valley of Amazement by Amy Tan for my book club.  I normally like Amy Tan, but am confused by the good reviews this particular book has gotten.  I can't recommend it, and it took me forever to get through.  Divergent wasn't great, but it was enjoyable, and it was nice to read straight through something in a weekend.

Quinn has been reading The Trumpet of the Swan by E. B. White.  His teacher is reading it to the class at school, and somehow or other Quinn missed hearing the first few chapters, so he's going back on his own and trying to catch up.  He confessed to me about a week ago that sometimes he stays up late and reads with a flashlight after I've put him to bed.  I told him that was fine.  My kids can stay up as late as they want if they are reading.  (Or cleaning something.)

So this weekend Quinn and I became reading buddies.  On Sunday we wanted to hang out together but we both wanted to read, so we just cuddled up close together on the couch and read our own books.  It was honestly one of the best days of my life.  I had Quinn snuggled up against me on one side and the dog all curled up asleep on the other and we just read.

I asked Quinn if we could make this a regular thing and he looked delighted.  I have a reading buddy.  (Now if I can just find a way to make eating cookies an activity that burns calories while we read life will be beyond perfect.)

Only Child for Only a While

My girls were recently at a camp for school called Nature's Classroom.  (A friend asked me if Nature's Classroom would teach them all about frostbite and hypothermia.)  The camping trip was pushed back a day due to super-extreme cold so that the kids could experience it in merely extreme cold.  They had a great time, despite the fact that helping them pack reduced me to laughing and crying simultaneously (why can't they find basic things by themselves?!?) and Mona didn't discover until a slushy hike that her boots had holes in the heels.  They came back with stories of upper bunks vs lower bunks, games for learning about bats, and a night hike where they discovered tricks for seeing better in the dark.

The upper elementary students go every year, but this was the first time for two nights away instead of just one, and Aden has been away to camp for school twice, but his was Mona's first year.  Which meant for two days Quinn was the only child at home.

It was a brief experiment in having an only child, but interesting nonetheless.  It was markedly different from having three.  I try my best to get time one-on-one with my kids when I can, but that usually means for an errand or a game.  Never, say, breakfast. 

Some people express surprise that we "go to the trouble" of making pancakes or French toast or some other hot breakfast every morning before school.  The truth is it's cheaper and faster than anything else.  We have a griddle that fits over two burners on the stove and either Ian or I can crank out pancakes from scratch and have them on the table in about ten minutes from the time we hit the kitchen.  But for one kid?  I had no idea what to make for one kid.  The last time I had one kid she was still into dry Cheerios and yogurt.  I went with oatmeal because it's something the girls don't really eat but Quinn and I do, and I could make a small batch. 

And I decided it was important that it was something I eat as well, because normally I leave the kids on their own to eat breakfast, but it seemed weird to have Quinn eat all by himself.

The whole experience was so quiet.  And uneventful.  The adults in the house were not outnumbered.  With three kids we are always herding people and that impacts many decisions from which car to take to when we can do things.  With one kid, well, it's like we had lives and he was there, too.

Mold-A-Ramas at the Willis Tower, and Quinn Turns Seven

Do you know the story of the Taoist Farmer?  I heard it the first time in a martial arts class many years ago.  The version of the story I remember is that the farmer's horse runs away, which seems like bad luck, but then the horse returns with two wild horses, which seems like good luck.  Then one of the wild horses throws the farmer's son breaking the boy's leg which seems like bad luck, until all the able-bodied men in the village are soon conscripted into war.

Quinn's recent birthday felt like that all day.  There were both figurative and literal ups and downs, actual dark clouds along with rainbows and tears.  It was exhausting, and not a birthday we are likely to forget.

When I asked Quinn a few weeks ago what he'd like to do for his seventh birthday he was ambivalent.  Since he could take or leave a friend party, I decided we should just stick with family and do something interesting.  I suggested a trip to the Willis Tower (still the Sears Tower in my heart) for a trip to the Sky Deck and to add the two Mold-A-Ramas they offer there to our collection.  He loved the idea.

My thought was that if we were going to make the visit to the Willis Tower for Mold-A-Ramas at some point anyway, may as well tie the overpriced experience to an important moment.  I figured every time we drive through Chicago in the future we will see that famous skyscraper and remember celebrating Quinn turning seven.  What could go wrong?

Well, the weather, of course.  We woke up to rain, and wondered if driving all the way to Chicago just to look at the inside of a cloud at 1,353 feet up in the air was worth the trouble.  With the Museum of Science and Industry as a backup plan we decided to chance it.

By the time we reached Chicago the clouds had broken up and we decided to the top of the Willis Tower we would go.  We parked several blocks away, enjoyed a windy walk downtown, made our way through several lines to buy tickets (Ian was free with his military I.D.!) and wait for an elevator, and then we were on the Sky Deck.

It really is amazing.  Pricey enough I doubt we'll do it again, but certainly worth doing once.  The views every direction are tremendous, and there are four glass decks that protrude a few feet out from the building so you can look down to the ground underneath you from where you are standing.  The kids all felt very brave.

Fit to Be Tied

Quinn learned to tie his shoes on Wednesday.  I tied the right one and he was able to copy that on the left.  Here he is pointing out his freshly tied shoe that he did on his own.

I think many kids come to shoe tying late now that so many sneakers have a Velcro option.  But Quinn's in first grade, and I didn't learn to tie my own shoes until that age, so maybe things haven't really changed all that much in the land of laces.

Another milestone.  Another step away from me, now in neatly tied shoes I didn't help with.  My baby boy is growing up.  But not so much that as he concentrates on his laces he doesn't still need to recite, "Make two bunny ears, loop one around...."

(Just when you think you can't love them more than you already do, they make you want to laugh and cry at the same time.)