The New Room

Last summer we commenced a project by which we turned our basement into a recreation room. The contractors' work began in early August and continued for about a month. In September and October we took other steps to bring it to completion. When the carpet was installed in late October the space finally felt complete. Here's what it looks like today.

Literally, today.

Yes, I know the pictures are crooked. I guess my photography training for the kids is behind schedule.

I did try to do a 360-degree image suitable for cardboard. Here it is.

It's the extra room we needed. Sherry doesn't venture down there much. Sam, Caroline, Legos, and I dwell there the most often. Sometimes it's enjoyed by just one member of the family who needs a breather from the others. Sometimes it's filled with the kids' friends In fact, my favorite times are when other kids come over and they all simply disappear into it.

Usually, though, it's humming with the sound of Sam and Caroline enjoying their sanctuary.

Viola

That much-anticipated update on the basement will have to wait. I forgot that there's one more skill we're learning in this house. 

Day four of viola.

Caroline has persisted for a few months about her desire to get an early jump on learning the viola. She's entering 3rd grade, which is when our district introduces string instruments. But her desire was earnest so she started working with a private teacher this week. 

She's up to "Hot Cross" buns on the second-highest string. I'm a trombonist: there's little more that I know. 

This now means that we have . . . 

• four instrumentalists in the house
• members of the household playing instruments for which music is written in three clefs
• a total of ten instruments in the home: two trombones, a flute, a piccolo, a viola, a violin, a keyboard, and three recorders 
• three music stands 

. . . in varying states of use at the household. 

Caroline, by the way, is following in a fine family tradition. From what I hear her mother was persistent in the very same way about 30 years ago, insisting that she not wait until fourth grade to get her hand on the flute. Sherry began taking lessons on it when she was in 2nd grade. 

Also, there's more than a little irony in the fact that Caroline's teacher is the same woman who worked with her uncle about three decades ago. 

Becoming Useful

I'm trying to entrust Sam and Caroline with more responsibility this summer.

Wait, here's another way to word this: I'm trying to make them work more this summer.

Hmmm. Wouldn't it be nice, too, if I could get them so proficient at a few jobs that I could monetize them in future summers? You know, hire them out. Wait, strike that. Let's get them to be so proficient they can earn money in future summers. There we go.

Sam recently expressed an interest in someday working for Chick-Fil-A. I actually think that could work well for him. He's got the polite and friendly thing under control.

Caroline, meanwhile, has said that she aims to be a lifeguard someday. She's observant enough. Probably needs to do more swimming now, though, to have the stamina and skills for that training. It would be nice to have her work at Whites Road Pool given the short commute.

So, maybe Google isn't omniscient. I can't imagine a more difficult way to walk to that park than to do what they're suggesting.

But, while we wait for them to age into those lines of work, let's get them gardening.

Caroline weeded this garden. The leaves from the tomatoes are so thick one could think she's hiding in there.

Caroline actually volunteered to weed the garden, which surprised me. She picked it clean, leaving only one impossible to reach cluster for me to get to.

Sam, meanwhile, is part of the Chris Johnson apprenticeship program for lawn care. Each time I mow, he comes out with me and gets trusted to do a little bit more. First week, safety orientation. Second week, one row. And so on. Yesterday, he mowed our neighbor's back lawn (with my supervision) as well as the patch of our patch called "Sam's strip."

One important task, though, I'm putting them to involves dishwasher emptying. I decided that I'm not doing that this summer. The two of them are good at it, though sometimes they return items to illogical spots.

Next week I begin a new painting project and they'll end up getting dragged into that. It's time to re-do the upstairs hallway and steps, and we must do so before the arrival of the new carpet.

Speaking of which, there's carpet in the basement now. Readers of this blog haven't had a chance to see that finished project yet. Next post.

Bikes

New summer. New bikes. Both Sam and Caroline have outgrown the bikes we used last summer, and we purchased a new bike for each of them this year.

Caroline with her bike, June 2016

Caroline surprised me with the color of bike she chose. I was expecting that she would opt for something purple rather than the foamy green she choose. It's a good bike and her long legs seem to work it better than her old pink one, which now resides with her cousin in Richmond.

Caroline's bike came in handy back in May during the IronKnights Triathlon. At about the worst time possible we realized Sam's front tire was shot and his bike unusable. Caroline offered Sam the use of her bike so he could complete the event. Not only was it generous of Caroline to do that, but it was also rather big of Sam to accept the challenge of riding a girls bike in the event, which isn't a small deal to the typical 4th grader. I guess it's a good thing she opted for the teal.

Sam's bike . . . I don't have a picture of it. Hmmm. Will have to get one in later. His is actually a full-size bike with gears. I'm a bit surprised he's ready for it, but he is. On one ride recently he much more easily scaled some hills than on his old bike, and he hasn't gotten the swing of the gears yet. Simply having the bigger wheels is making the difference for him right now.

Sam's old bike is now with his cousin Callum in the Reading area.

His bike already came in handy: I took my friend Dane on a trip to Gettysburg where I insisted we use bikes to see the southern half of the battlefield. Dane took my bike. I took Sam's. Sam's bike is lighter than mine and stops faster, too. I'm a bit envious of it.

Dane and I pose near the high-water mark at Gettysburg near the end of our ride. 

The acquisition of Sam's bike was something of a fun story. I've typically bought bikes at a shop in Souderton I like, Scooter's. But Sam wasn't at all interested in shopping up there, insisting on the local shop here in Lansdale. I promised him that we'd look there, but the whole time I planned to nominally scan for a bike than conclude we had to go to Scooter's. Sam, however, stood his ground. And despite my pessimism, he spoke with a salesman to figure out if a bike he liked but which was too big might be in stock in a smaller size. It was. Two hours later his bike was assembled and we had a new bike for him.

I'd like to say Sam's persistence is a victory for the Shop Local movement, but that's misleading. Really, he just doesn't want to travel far and linger long in a store. He's a 21st-century child who has come to know that virtually anything can be found at Amazon. Why shop when it can be delivered? However, on that June day, Pedaller Bike Shop was the beneficiary. Besides, they have a good reputation in town for repairs and service.

One of my favorite photos from last summer comes from one of my favorite adventures, when the kids and I conquered part of the Perkiomen Trail. Now I'm in better position for us to do so.

They'll be riding a little more upright the next time I take a photo like this.

Iron Pigs

Five families descended on Coca-Cola Park to watch the Iron Pigs host the Charlotte Knights.

Selfie with my pulled pork barbecue parfait.

Several of the boys along for the game found the scorekeeping interesting. Note the hand-writing of an observant 12-year-old in the 4th inning. Mark's work there allowed me to go off and get the parfait. 

I had fun explaining to Jack why we use the letter K to signify a strike, and why a backwards K has significance. 

I wish I hadn't waiting as long as I did (until 2014) to go to minor league baseball with my kids. But I'm glad I'm going now. Caroline enjoys being there with her friends, though I think the prospect of appearing on the big screen is more important. For Sam, little is more satisfying than a night at the ballpark with friends. I think he's fine with his parents being there, too (though we may be a bit expendable).

Oh, and the food is amazing there.

Garden Report

We've recovered nicely from the setbacks posed by the hungry little rabbit who ravaged the spinach. I punted the ball on that particular project, replacing those plants with a pepper and a watermelon plant.

The herb garden. 

The herb garden is going fairly well. The peppermint is an embarrassment of riches and is now getting brewed into the tea. The rosemary and basil are just fine. Oregano, too. The cilantro, however . . .

Not everything works out. 

Meanwhile, the tomatoes are on track to be my best year for them yet.

Roma.

Grape tomatoes.

I forget what variety this is.

For the first time ever there are green beans in my garden. I noticed today that I have a few that are on the way toward being edible.

Enlarged to show texture. Okay, not really. But that's definitely a green bean. 

Can you see any beans here? It's not easy. 

I cannot claim much credit for the pepper you see below. I bought the plant late in the season at Freddy Hill when it was 30% off and with the pepper well on the way to being grown.

pepper

One final photo: I started goofing around with Google Cardboard this morning and took this panoramic of the backyard.

As you can tell, the weather was so splendid I really had to figure out some way to stay outside.

VBS

I haven't had many chances to post this past week due to my work at church. I volunteered to be a teacher at Vacation Bible School, the second time in three years I've done so. Though its hours are from 9 until noon, it's really more like a four-hour commitment each day. During the three hours itself that I was there, the time flew. When I came home, I was astounded each day how much time had passed that I was out.

I wouldn't say I was exhausted when I came home. But I was sapped of the energy to read or write anything of substance.

There's really only one picture I can share in this post, that of a bracelet one of the girls in my tribe made for me.

Ava made it to match the colors in my retro Mike Schmidt jersey, a jersey I wore every day. 

So, about that Mike Schmidt jersey. When working with younger kids, it makes sense to wear something that will stand out, make it obvious to all in the ZIP code who and where I am. If I had a series of baseball jerseys, I'd wear a different one each day. Instead, I have one retro Mike Schmidt jersey and one old Don Slaught Pittsburgh Pirates away jersey I purchased in 1993 (long story). It's loud. It works. But it prevents me from being subtle.

The subtlety might have been good for the incident that occurred near the end of the closing worship program. I was sitting amidst a flock of 1st graders, Kindergartners, and pre-schoolers for that program. A preschooler in front of me, Lily, was highly distracted by all the kids and space around her, which was cute in a distracting sort of way. At perhaps the quietest part of the worship service, however, she stood up and quite loudly declared "I have to go pee." Instantly there was laughter from kids and audience. One instant later I scooped her up and took her to the side where her mom intercepted me. One friend complimented me on the risk I took that her bladder would hold while I carried her out.

My role was tribe leader for VBS, which meant that I was a teacher or shepherd, of sorts, to a group of 14 or 15 rising 2nd graders. Honestly, I felt more like a stand-in dad than a teacher. I haven't yet mastered how to get kids of that age to engage in meaningful dialogue. But I am good at getting them to focus on a given task, to prevent them from making messes, to maintain decent behavior, and (most importantly) to play nicely with each other.

At the opening meeting, our pastor asked what the purpose of VBS is and my answer was that it's to make the church feel like more of a home to the children who attend. Though it's not the answer he was looking for, it remains my primary goal. I believe strongly in 40 Assets sort of research about the importance of kids knowing adults other than parents and teachers. In the week I'm at VBS, kids who around the age of my two kids in the church or neighborhood are getting to know me and know a church. That remains my goal at this point. The Biblical learnings need to come across more implicitly to the kids.

I'm a little better working with this young age group than I expected. Caroline was that age only a year ago. Sam was there not much longer in the past. So working with 7-year-olds allows me to kick back into a gear that I used recently but don't use much now. I'm operating more as a parent than a teacher, and it's something of a comfort zone for me.

It also helps that 7-year-olds in late June are so different from AP 12th graders in Sept-June that I can't really confuse my day job with what I did this past week.

I'll volunteer again next year. Truthfully, it would be nice to see one other dad serve in my role. It's good for kids to see a man doing work like this. And it was obvious to me that some of the kids looked at me as a rent-a-dad this past week, which warmed my heart. I'm still astounded that Ava gifted me with a bracelet just one day into the week, at how Lily and Liz both felt comfortable enough to correct me when I goofed up lyrics to a song, and that the one or two boys I had to correct during the week understood I did it out of love rather than irritation.