Firestorm: Santa Rosa

"GO!GO!GO!GO!GO!" Screamed a man in plain clothes, urgently waving a flashlight to direct traffic. He was standing next to an unmarked police car with red and blue lights flashing from the grill. His car was positioned to block traffic headed southbound on Old Redwood Highway at Airport boulevard. This man, looking as if he just woke up 5 minutes ago, was obviously stressed but remained in control of the situation.

"TURN AROUND NOW!! YOU CANNOT GO THAT WAY! THERE IS A FIRE! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT?!" His voice boomed. I was stuck in a line of cars in our motor-home a block back, watching in astonishment as people... panicked people, wanted to argue with this man, wanting to head south for no other reason than that is the way they wanted to go.

 "YOU ARE BLOCKING TRAFFIC! MOVE NOW! YOU CANT GO SOUTH, ONLY NORTH OR WEST!" He screamed again at the car in the middle of the road, all the time waving his flashlight for cars headed north out of the fires path, to go around.

The car in the middle of the road finally listened and reluctantly moved west toward the freeway, still several cars in front of me wanted to turn left and head south into the flames; their hesitation causing continued gridlock on the main road out of the Wikiup neighborhood. I looked into my drivers' side, rear-view mirror to make sure Melanie was still behind me in my truck with the boys. Before my eyes could adjust to the stream of headlights reflecting back at me, I could see large flames leaping up from the trees on top of the hills behind us.

"GO!GO!GO!"



~~~~

After watching most of the cars trying to squeeze into two lanes headed west towards the freeway, I decided that we would turn right and head north, and into the wind. There were only a few of us that went this way, but those that did, quickly realized that this took us out of the path of the fire while providing a view of its rampage that was bearing down on our neighborhood.

  We pulled into a park on the next block up and watched the sky explode into an apocalyptic firestorm beyond anything that I could have imagined. We could hear the crackling of flames mixed with explosions every twenty to thirty seconds.
  There was about mile wide swath of vineyards between us and our neighborhood and by the look of the flames and the smoke, I was certain that our home and our neighbors homes, were being consumed by fire.

  I made two very disturbing observations over the next four hours; first, I realized that people were dying in the flames. There was no way that everyone escaped the fire as most people did not receive any prior warning, and the fire was moving way too fast to keep ahead of.
The second, was the realization that we had not heard or seen one fire-engine. The first fire-engine  that we saw was just before 6:00 am. That's when I knew the size and magnitude of this fire was beyond comprehension.
~~~~
Dawn broke with an eerie stillness. Shock, uncertainty, and disbelief intermingled with the smoke that hung heavily in the air. Apollo and Orion had finally fallen asleep after watching the fire and asking questions about it for the first few hours. The motor-home was all but quiet now except for the occasional ruffle of parrot feathers coming from the cages in the back. This was the beginning of our week in exile.

~~~~

I must mention here the incredible outpouring of love and support and offers of help that came in from friends and family all over the world. Even strangers offered to help out in any way that they could. We,  my family and our zoo, were some of the lucky ones. We had time to grab our pets. We had time to grab our motor home. We had time to grab a spare change of clothing, although nothing that we grabbed for Apollo really fit him.  Our motor home provided shelter. It provided a place for our 7 birds, our dog, our cat, and the 4 of us humans to wait out the fires. We were some of the luck ones.

~~~~

We spent our first two nights in exile, at Eposti Park; the park that we pulled into when we first evacuated. Even though we had many offers of places to stay, I really did not want to impose our flock of screaming, feathered, toothpick makers on anyone that we care about. After the second night in the park and realizing that we were not going to be allowed into our neighborhood anytime soon, I gave in and we parked "Melanie's Ark" in front of a friends house in Windsor, for a night, then followed her to Sebastopol to her cousins house for two nights before returning to Windsor, which allowed for some fresh air and a serene backdrop away from the fires. In all, we spent seven nights and seven days away from home.

 For me, the hardest part was being trapped with the birds in the motor home. Having the birds, made it impossible for us to leave them alone for more than a couple hours at a time, as they were crammed into small carriers and needed to get out regularly to eat and drink and stretch. Had we not had the birds, we would have left the area for a camping spot on the coast, or stayed in a hotel far away from the mayhem while we awaited reentry into our neighborhood. We made do with what we had and Melanie and the boys did an amazing job taking care of our ark passengers.

Everyone deals with disasters in their own way. Some shut down. Others go into shock. Some jump in and help others. A few become hero's. I admit that I am inpatient and that I am not the type to stand around and do nothing in times like these. Feeling trapped and helpless and just waiting around, does not suit my personality at all. After taking my family to safety, All I wanted to do was to head back into the hood and help anyone that my have needed it... and yes, I did also want to see the unfolding carnage up-close and personal.

By the 3rd day post fire, I was losing my mind from boredom and lack of information...or more accurately: misinformation. I have lived through disasters before and I think in some ways, I am not as affected as others by them, by which I mean, the actual disaster doesn't traumatize me. I have great empathy for those that lost their homes and all there possessions, but having to evacuate, thinking that my house burned down the first night, thinking about the inconvenience of having to find a new place to live, to just get by with what we had with us at that moment and having to start over...none of that bothered me at all. The thoughts that ran through my head were: Where can we find a place that will let us take our birds? Will we find a home close enough that the boys can go to the same school? Should we move out of the area completely? I was never bothered by the thought of loosing all of our possessions. I like a clean slate. I realized in those predawn hours that I had everything that mattered to me: My family.

~~~~

I was able to sneak back into our neighborhood early the next morning after the initial onslaught of fire, to retrieve our fire-safe and vital documents, and to grab our jeep that we had left behind. Police had the neighborhood blocked, but due to having very few officers in place because of the scale of the burned out areas, I, along with several others, were able to sneak around the barricades and walk in. I passed several people walking out of the neighborhood as I walked toward our street. They all had a look of shock and disbelief on their faces. Most of them were pulling a suitcase on wheels, no doubt stuffed with clothing and important items or documents, but I was blown away by what a few others found important enough to take from their homes in case the fires came through: a man in his 60's had what must have been a 70" or larger TV on a hand truck wheeling it out of the neighborhood, a lady carried a dining room chair inverted and resting on her head, another guy was pulling a kids wagon loaded with hand tools and car parts. I guess they had their reasons.

  A natural disaster always brings out the best in some people but also, the worst kinds of people leap into action to take advantage of the chaos. While disgusted by the latter, I was filled with pride to see the community rally and support one another. So many people volunteering, sharing, and helping. It was good to see that there are still that many people with "goodness" inside of them. It's unfortunate that, it often takes a tragedy to bring people together and remind us that we actual do care for each other.
~~~~

  In the aftermath since the fires, things have returned to normal for us: We are back in our home, our boys are back at school, and we are back to normal work schedules. Thousands of others however, are still left to pick up the pieces while deciding to rebuild or cut their losses and move away. It will be a long road with many ups and downs along the way for them. Many people that we know have lost everything, and I honestly don't know what to say to them beyond "I'm sorry". I cringe when I hear others tell them, "At least you escaped with your lives", or "At least you escaped with your family and that's what really matters". I realize that most people wouldn't feel the way I do about losing all of my possessions, but I can only imagine that those sentiments are the last thing most people want to hear. I can only equate it to loosing a loved one suddenly in a tragic accident and people telling you that,  "They're in a better place," or "God only calls special people home early," or "I know what you're going through." Any of those would send me off the deep end. I've lost a home in a fire. I've been in a major earthquake where my home sustained 30% of its value in damage. I've lost a sibling when we were both in our teens. I've had to endure similar comments on all occasions. As a result, I have mixed feelings when I see signs that say, "Thank you first responders!" posted in an un-burned neighborhood right next to one that was completely leveled by the fires. I understand the extreme gratitude and elation that people must have felt when they found out that their home was untouched, however, what about the houses right next door that have been reduced to rubble, maybe their beloved pets are missing too...I just wonder how those signs make them feel as they pass them on their way to sift through the ashes.

~~~~
We talk to Apollo and Orion about the fires, about how they felt while we were evacuating, about how they felt while we were away from home. They were and are, completely unaffected by the fires. Melanie and I remained calm throughout the entire process of evacuating, even though the adrenaline was flowing. I think the boys were tuned into our calmness. Apollo told us that the excitement felt like he was getting on a scary roller coaster ride where he didn't know what to expect. Orion said that he wasn't scared but he felt shaky even though he wasn't cold. We explained that they were experiencing the effects of adrenaline. They were interested in the science behind adrenaline more than the fact that we had to flee from a fire. Apollo and Orion told us that the rest of the week was like a camping trip for them and they liked bringing all of their pets with them camping.

Several of the boys friends lost homes and all of their possessions in the fire. We have discussed this extensively with the boys and pointed out how fortunate we are to have our home to spend the holidays in. It is a hard thing for them to grasp at their age, but they seem to understand and empathize. Apollo wanted to volunteer at a shelter, although he is too young, and Orion, wants to donate his bike that he has outgrown and give it to another little boy that lost his in the fire.

Going into this holiday season, I have much to be grateful for. At the top of my list, right after family and having a roof over my head, I am most thankful that our week long camping trip with all our pets, didn't turn into a more permanent living situation.

 Now, more than two months later, Southern California is on fire and with just a few days left before Christmas, a new batch of families are losing homes or are left to wonder if they will lose their home before the flames are quenched. While they are in the middle of their fight, we have made huge progress in clearing lots. More than 5" of rain have fallen in November and the hills are green with new grass and the promise of a new beginning. Crews are working around the clock and hope and optimism are beginning to replace shock and despair. Lawyers and contractors are spending loads of money on marketing and advertising. The home rental market is experience unrealistic rents as insurance companies are cutting the temporary housing checks. Car dealerships are experiencing an unprecedented volley of car sales as victims are replacing vehicles lost in the fires. There is nothing like a disaster to give an unsustainable boost to the local economy.

It is my wish that amidst all the the growth and rebuilding that we can somehow manage to hold on to our humanity, to be kinder, to be more caring, to remember how we looked out for one another in the face of such devastation, to honor the catchphrases; #sonomastrong and "The love in the air is thicker than the smoke."

From the ashes, we will rise.

  

Sonya

In the spring of 2004, we were living in Bend, Oregon. We had several rescued cockatiel's that we fostered while looking for a forever home. In the spring, after the worse winter weather was behind us, we would put the birds in an outdoor aviary. The cockatiel's would regularly lay eggs in nest boxes and Melanie would rotate the eggs out and return them when we were sure that they were no longer viable. This way, the cockatiel's would run through their nesting cycle, decide that none of the eggs were going to hatch, and then be done trying for the season.

 One late spring day, 8-year-old Aden came into the house and announced that there was a baby cockatiel in one of the nest boxes. We brushed him off, certain that he had mistaken an adult bird for a baby. After a day or two of insisting that he knows "what a baby bird looks like," I finally went out to the aviary and 'Surprise!' there was a week old, fuzzy little baby cockatiel. 

As school was nearly out for the year, Melanie and I decided that it would be a good experience for 10-year-old Ian to hand feed the baby bird (under our guidance) and raise it as a pet. When we pulled Sonya from the nest box, his eyes were not yet open. Through the translucent skin, I could tell that his eyes were red; a sign that Sonya was a Lutino cockatiel, a beautiful mutation where the grey pigmentation is lacking.

Sonya's early years were spent riding around on Ian's shoulders and hanging out with him while he played video games. During the first couple summers, Sonya enjoyed sitting on Ian's shoulder while he rode his bike around the neighborhood. Although we had large parrots around, I don't think Sonya ever quite identified with them and was always more comfortable with people.
  

  In the last few years, especially this past year, Sonya has become a favorite pet to Apollo and Orion bringing hours of laughter, smiles, and memories. Being raised by himself, Sonya never knew he was a bird, let alone a cockatiel. Sonya's favorite color was blue and any inanimate object that was blue in color, was his love interest; He would whistle to and snuggle up to it.
Sonya also loved people, but other birds, even cockatiel's scared the hell out of him.

This past summer, Sonya had what is arguably the best summer of his life (with the exception of his glory days whizzing around the neighborhood on a bike with Ian). Apollo would get Sonya out of his cage religiously every morning, and would spend hours each day with him and Jack-Jack (a female cockatiel, added to the zoo late this spring). Sonya and Jack-Jack ate breakfast and dinner with the boys nearly everyday, even after school started up. Apollo was very intrigued by Sonya's incessant whistling, a repertoire of tunes and patterns that we taught him, and his ability to speak a few phrases. "Here kitty-kitty-kitty" and "Whatcha doing" were his best.

Sonya had been a fairly aggressive and stubborn bird, often whistling enticingly one second then viciously biting your ear the next. If he didn't want off of your shoulder, he would bite your finger while shrieking and trying to defend his territory. We all found it entertaining and with the rest of our zoo to contend with, we never tried to correct the behavior...that is until Apollo took interest in him. Apollo, through compassion, patience, and consistency, turned the little feathered chihuahua into a gentle, pleasant bird. Sonya would call to Apollo in the morning when he saw him coming out the door to retrieve him. You could see Sonya's admiration for Apollo. Apollo was equally fond of Sonya and was always amused by his antics. If birds could smile, I imagine Sonya was smiling as much as Apollo was when he held him. Orion was always a bit timid around Sonya because of his propensity to bite without provocation. Thanks to Apollo's efforts, Sonya became equally kind to Orion and earned a special place in his heart.

As all good things must come to an end, Sonya's life ran its course and his health began to decline. This summer  with Apollo's keen observations and Melanie and my experience with birds, we spotted the tale-tell signs that something was not right with Sonya. Lutino Cockatiels, from years of inbreeding to maintain the desired traits, are not the strongest of mutations and have a markedly shorter lifespan than regular cockatiels. Most cockatiels live 10-15 years but have the ability to live well into their 20's if healthy, even into their 30's on rare occasion. At 13, he was right in the average life expectancy although we had hoped for many more years.

Sonya never suffered, never showed signs of pain of discomfort, not even signs of sickness. He only should signs of aging and a body that was giving out long before his mind was ready. Still, his quality of life was not diminished and his days were filled with love and companionship.  On his final days, Sonya struggled to get to his perches and opted to stay on the bottom of the cage. He spent his last couple days in the house under the watchfulness of Melanie, Apollo and Orion.
Sonya, ate, preened, and whistled. He propped himself up against the side of the cage to settle in for the night. As I was out of town, Melanie sent me a picture of him sitting quietly and comfortably. No labored breathing, no overly ruffled feather, no signs of discomfort; just a bird who's body said, "I'm done". The following morning, at 3:53am on Thursday September 28th, I awoke to a ping from my cell phone. The message from Melanie read: "Sonya is gone" 

Fly free Sonya! Thanks for the love, laughter, and beautiful whistling.  You taught so much. Your silence is felt in our home as well as in our hearts. You are dearly missed.

When the stars align: An Eclipse Story

"OH MY GOSH!" I gasped, my throat stuck in my chest. I repeated this over and over. "HOLY...!!" When I wasn't spouting off expletives and repeating phrases out of utter shock and amazement during totality, I was trying to breath.
  I looked at the sun, then at my camera LCD display, back at the sun, then at my boys, then my wife, then back at the sun and the sky, then to the horizon. My breath was literally taken away.

Lets back up a bit. All my life, I have been interested in all things outer-space; the sun, the moon, the planets, the stars, etc. I have very early memories of watching partial solar eclipses, lunar eclipses, meteor showers, and even camping in the desert and staring at the sky, watching satellites slipping silently between the stars. I thank my dad for sparking my interests by always waking me up to see a lunar eclipse at night, or having a telescope set up to project a partial solar eclipse for us to watch. I have always been fascinated by this stuff and my fascination has grown over the years. Now, I seize every opportunity to share these things with my boys. If I have learned one thing in my 49-years, it is to not miss a chance to experience something unique. Regret is often the result of a failure to act.

  On May 20th of 2012, In Santa Rosa, we experienced a partial annular eclipse.

05.20.2012

A mere 4 hour drive, and I could have been right in the path of this eclipse. I was upset with myself that I didn't make the drive. As cool as it was in Santa Rosa, I wanted to see the full annular eclipse. In the days that followed, I did an internet search and found that we would experience a partial annular eclipse on October 23, 2014. This one was too far to travel to, to be on the direct path but as I explored further, I discovered the August 21st, 2017 Eclipse that would pass through Oregon. I vowed that we would not miss this one.

10.23.2014

After the 2014 partial Eclipse, I revisited the internet to find the exact path through Oregon in 2017. That is when I realized that the path of totality was going through Madras, Oregon...my wife's hometown. Come hell or high water, we would be in Madras on August 21st, 2017. When I began to announce to friends and relatives that we were coming up for this total eclipse in a few years, I think they all thought that I was a bit crazy.


Fast forward a few years to 2017.

Everything fell in to place for us and we even made  a few concessions to be in Madras for this opportunity of a lifetime. We had to take the boys out of school for 3 days, after only attending their 1st day the school year. I would rather they miss a few days of school than miss something like this.

The setting was perfect. We stayed at Melanie's grandfathers estate, on the outskirts of town. We spent a couple days leading up to the eclipse visiting with family and friends, hiking the property, riding bikes, and enjoying time together as a family. Our time at the house and property was of special significance to Melanie as she had lived here herself at different times while growing up, so for her, it always feels like coming home. For Apollo and Orion, they had so many questions about the house, the property, and their great grandparents. Apollo made a comment to me one evening, "I feel like Grandpa Joe wants us to be here." I felt that too, the very moment we stepped out of the truck.

I brought all the camera gear that I figured I would need to capture the eclipse. I set my camera up and tested the lenses and filters the day before.

We were ready. 

I woke up before the sun rose on that Monday morning. I checked my gear and then sat and watched the sun rise from the back deck of the house. Owls were hooting softly in the canyon, but beyond that, it was still and quiet. I was excited and couldn't wait for the eclipse to start. Three years of planning and waiting, and today was the day. After a morning hike with Orion, I set up my cameras, had a light breakfast and then we waited.

The eclipse began as all the others that I had seen. The sun was slowly being eaten away by an unseen moon. There were no surprises at first. Once the sun was 50% covered, the sky began to be noticeably darker. The temperature began to drop and a light breeze picked up. I expected all that. Apollo and Orion were playing around close by and came over to look at the camera screen and check in with me from time to time. Once it got past 75% and became much darker, the boys stood by me staring at the sun through eclipse glasses. And then it happened. The crescent of the sun became smaller and smaller...and then vanished. It was here, in this brief moment in time, that time froze. I expected everything to go dark and the sun to be basically gone from sight with only a faint glow left to outline the moon...that's not how it happened. I can't say for sure what happened in that fraction of a second but I can tell you that it was surreal and I can tell you how it felt. It was the twist in the plot, that unexpected twist in the story that changes everything. I saw, I felt, I experienced, and I was left speechless. The darkness came, but with it, I felt a rush of energy, maybe I even felt a gust of cool air, then a flash like a strobe light. As soon as the last sliver of sun vanished, a bright radiant ring of white fire appeared in the sky. My mouth fell open and I gasped loudly. It was like being awoken abruptly from an intense dream where in those first few moments you aren't sure if you are awake or asleep and you are completely disoriented.

I was utterly unprepared for what I saw and felt. It was sensory overload on a level I have never experienced. The reason I was so taken by surprise is that, I really didn't take the photos that I had seen from other total eclipses as being genuine. By which I mean, I assumed that they were heavily photoshopped or that they were captured by using specialized cameras that pick up light not visible to the naked eye. That coupled with the media's propensity to exaggerate things and the stage was set for me to be floored...and that is exactly what happened. As to the things that I felt, they may have been my own senses compensating for the shock and emotion of what I was seeing, or maybe it was all real and part of the eclipse experience. Either way, it was real to me.

Apollo and Orion were beside me during totality. I heard Apollo say, "Whoa! That's so cool!" While Orion was giggling and saying, "WHOA!" Melanie, came up behind me and pointed out that the stars were out. She asked me, "Can you believe how cool the pictures are that you are getting?" as we both looked at my LCD display. I am not sure if I answered her or not. I do remember her and Apollo laughing at me for repeating the same thing over and over; "OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH, OH MY GOSH!!"

I can say with certainty that this may be the coolest thing that I have ever seen. It is right up there with the birth of my children, my first skydive, the first time I experienced bioluminescence swimming in the ocean at night, or my first time coming face-to-face with a bat ray unexpectedly while snorkeling on Anacapa island at 12-years-old. Shock, awe, and loss of breath in that order, each and every time. The snorkeling one found me 15 feet underwater and seriously out of breath because I expelled all my air screaming when I saw a large mouth and wings coming right for me.  "AAAAAAAHHHHH!" Im not sure who was more frightened; me or that fish. I wanted to scream like that again. So impressed were we, that the boys and I are planning for the next one in the US in 2024.

The math, geometry, and science behind a total eclipse is astounding. The fact that it happened when and where it did, is a coincidence that I can't wrap my head around. Because I experienced it with Melanie, Apollo and Orion (and other family and friends), was a small miracle in itself. A miracle that can only happen when all the stars align.

Go forth and conquer the world

Another school year has come to a close. Orion has completed kindergarten and Apollo has finished up 3rd grade. The school year, although it seemed to drag on while we were in the midst of it, now that it is finished up, it seems to have screamed by. 

Orion is in the same Spanish immersion school as Apollo. Their brains soak up the new language like sponges, and it was fun watching Orion begin to learn a new language. He made a great showing for his first year, even though he had moments of self doubt, and questioned if he was smart enough, or lamenting the fact that he forgot things very easily. The fact that he is cognizant of his forgetfulness says a lot for how bright of a young man he is. Orion roles his "R's" beautifully and has done a great job at grasping the Spanish language. All though he may not agree, Orion made kindergarten seen fairly easy. Beyond doing well in his studies, his teacher often commented on his sweetness and noted that he "is a friend to everybody."  

Kindergarten is great year for kids. It's as if a flower-bud, tightly wrapped, begins to unfurl for the first time. Hesitantly, the first petal loosens up, then the next...and so on. Soon you begin to see a beauty and potential emerging that manifest in so many ways. The transition form toddler, to young boy begins and the possibilities are endless. Although, Orion likes to resist the regimented learning ways of the education system, his brain is not so easily dissuaded and the information sinks in and opens doors before he realizes what happens. At the end of the day, his charm and easy going disposition will take this kid as far as he dreams of going. He can win anyone over with his smile and his negotiation skills rival that of a seasoned professional. 

Apollo has excelled in sarcasm and theatrics this year! He may be better suited for a performing arts school than a general education school. Actually, he was born with these gifts, they just become more pronounced week after week, and year after year. Third grade was a banner year for Apollo. He has finally began to let his guard down at school and let his personality shine through to his teachers and his classmates. This year, his mathematical abilities (genius) made themselves known in a big way. His math teacher, Maestro Curiel, took an interest in Apollo's math abilities, and pushed his boundaries. In conference, we were told, after being shown a failed test of Apollo's that, "He got the answers correct, but he lost points for not following the directions and not showing his work in the way that we asked them to show it. The interesting thing is that when I asked him how he arrived at the answers, he not only defends his work vehemently, but he explains methods of doing the work that we did not teach him." I am paraphrasing a bit, but the essence of the conversation are there. His teacher said that Apollo was always one of the first kids done with math each day so he would allow Apollo to help the other kids finish their work. Maestro Cruiel said that Apollo could often explain how to solve the problems to his fellow students better than he, as the teacher could explain it himself. He told us that what he found refreshing about Apollo, was that every time they finished a section and he would announce that they were starting a new subject, i.e. long division, Apollo would be the only one to voice excitement over it, while the majority of the class would moan and groan in dismay. His final words to Apollo via his report card were; "I am extremely honored to have been Apollo's math teacher. He is a fantastic mathematician and I am delighted by his progress throughout the school year. Apollo; go forth and conquer the world!"

Orion Turns 6

There are hearts so pure that to be in the presence of its owner, you will know love, you will know warmth, you will know acceptance.

Six years ago, I held a miracle in my arms for the first time. A miracle because he was not planned. A miracle because we thought we had lost him only weeks after we found out that he was coming. I remember lying in bed holding my wife in my arms late one night, around the holidays, both of us solemn and uncertain...and silent. "It's not fair," her voice trembled, "You should never have to lose a baby once you get excited about the idea of having it," she said softly, breaking my heart with her words.

She was wrong obviously, and for once, I was glad that she was wrong. I cannot imagine life without this beautiful soul. Orion has filled our home with laughter, love, adventure and hugs...lots and lots of hugs. There is nothing better than coming home from a business trip and hearing his little feet running from the other room, his voice yelling, "Dada!", as he leaps into my arms and hugs me tightly. There is nothing that warms my heart more than watching him run and hug his brothers when they walk through the door, even after being gone for only a few hours.

Orion is our snuggler too. Whether its climbing into our bed at 2:00am, or requesting that you sit with him to watch a movie. On the rare occasion that Melanie and I actually get a chance to sit on the couch together, Orion wants to be right in the middle, between the two of us.

Rocks and shells are his favorite collectables this past year. He loves his pets; his new kitten Shredder, and Jack, his cockatiel are always close by. Everyday his face lights up when he interacts with his pets like it is still his first day with them. He might be the smallest one in the house, but he sour biggest helper.

Orion is swimming like a fish now. He plays hard. He is always on the go and often his body and brain start shutting down before he is ready to. At that point, he becomes melancholy and begins to list his grievances from the past six years. "Dada, when I was in mama's tummy, before I was born," tears welling up in his eyes, "I was bored in there too." As with everything with Orion, what would be annoying if it was any other kid, we find very endearing.

Happy sixth birthday little man. Thank you for all the wonderful laughs, memories, and hugs these first six years. You were the perfect addition to our family six years ago. I can't wait to see what adventures this year will bring.

I love you Orion!

Love Dada

Guinevere

She was not a killer. She was not even rambunctious. Lazy? The word was invented for her. She was a professional napper, a slow walker, and, up until 6-months-ago, a very quiet cat.

Guinevere came along shortly after Melanie and I started dating. I was kind of upset when she brought her home. Melanie already had a small zoo consisting of  2 dogs, an iguana, fish tanks, and another cat, the last thing that she needed, or so I thought, was another cat! That was 15 years ago. Our (Melanie's) zoo has expanded and contracted greatly since then. Guinevere purred her own spot into our hearts rather quickly.
  She was playful, and extremely affectionate, played with our dogs, unless they played with other cats, then the dogs would be disassociated. She never brought home a trophy kill, liked to sleep in the street, made cars go around her or wait on her as she slowly... very slowly, sauntered across the street.
  Guinevere had been dubbed the "neighborhood greeter" by the realtors in our area as she would walk up to every car and greet the people climbing out of them. A realtor caravan was an exceptional treat as there would be many hands available for petting at one time

In the last few years, Guinevere became arthritic and no longer did a great job of grooming herself, which resulted in mats followed by unsightly haircuts. We laughed at her and teased her, but she never complained. with in the last year, her hearing went and along with that, came very loud, obnoxious meowing...much to my delight. I may have been kicked out of bed at 3am on a couple occasions for replying back in an equally obnoxious meow. 

  They say that when we grow old, we revert back to our childhood state. I can say that this was true for Guinevere too. In the past 6 months, she started climbing on the table, getting into food that was left unattended, knocking stuff off of counters...all things she had not done in years. Both Apollo and Orion took great interest in Guinevere over the years and of late, Apollo could not get enough of her, often finding her and laying her across his lap while she purred and napped. She would make Apollo laugh all the time when climbing on the tables or his desk or knocking things on the floor. The louder she meowed the louder he would laugh.

  As for myself, I tend to have a darker sense of humor. I've been telling people for the last two years that Guinevere has used up 8 and 3/4 of her nine lives. Every time her bag of food got close to empty, I would look at Guinevere and say, "You're going to make us buy another bag of food aren't you?" Then I would protect my groin for fear of Melanie's retribution. Weekly, I would make sure Melanie was in earshot and I would ask, "Do you want me to start digging a hole for you?" while petting Guinevere. It didn't make me the most popular person in the house, but truth be told, I really did love that cat.  

  As I am sure you can guess, Guinevere used up that last 1/4 life. Her love of sleeping in the road, under cars, and her extreme deafness, finally caught up to her. Still, in her final minutes, she exuded the same grace that she lived by. We picked up her limp body from the road, her head propped up and her eyes watching us as if nothing was wrong, and not complaining. We rushed her to the emergency vet hospital, but not in hopes of fixing her but to give her sweet soul an easier passing. In her final moments, as I held her in my arms and just before the vet administered her a narcotic, Guinevere rolled her head back around and looked up at me, her eyes meeting mine, and she just stared. I scratched her head gently and told her it was okay, then nodded to the vet to proceed. At 7:42pm on Tuesday May 30th, Guinevere slipped away quietly. 

  In the days that followed, our house was eerily silent. No loud meows in the predawn hours, nothing being knocked from the boys desk, no plea's to fill up her half empty food bowl, no limping sound on the wood floors...just silence. Melanie and I both still looked for her under our cars when we went to leave the house, over the next few days, half expecting her to be there. 

A week later, we are getting used to her being gone, but we miss her dearly.

 Say hello to the rest of the zoo and god speed, Lady Guinevere.

Apollo turns 9

In a group conversation a few years ago, a friend cut me off when I said, "having children is a sacrifice."  He told me that he didn't feel that having children was a sacrifice at all...A labor of love but not a sacrifice, That comment stuck with me, and I find myself pondering it often. I ponder it because I cannot disagree more. At first, I thought that maybe I was looking at things the wrong way and I tried to look at it from different perspectives. My conclusion was always the same; having children is a sacrifice.  I even had to analyze myself, concerned that maybe my way of thinking was flawed...what a silly notion that was.
  Truth-be-told, everything about having children is a sacrifice. Here is a short list of some of the things that I have sacrificed:

1. Privacy
2. Sleep...lots and lots of sleep
3. Time
4. Savings 
5. Spontaneity 
6. Selfishness (with time, money)
7. Opportunities (that do not have your family's best interest in mind)
8. Quiet and stillness
9. A clean house

I could go on and on. If it sound more like a list of grievances, well, I guess that is not too far off the mark. I am frequently faced with decisions, and the choices that I make, are different than my pre-child self would have made. I do not begrudge my children for any sacrifice that I have made to have them in my life. In fact,  I would have them a million times over knowing what I know now.

9 years ago, Apollo turned my world upside-down and inside-out, erasing any and all preconceived notions that I had about having an infant. 9-years later, not much has changed.

This year has brought on 3rd grade, Oral surgery, Orthodontia, and an increased love for math and science. You stand 4'7" tall now. Yiayia must have shrunk from her original 4'11" because you are nearly as tall as her. You are fascinated with optical illusions, origami, science experiments, animals and insects. You pick up the snails from the sidewalk in the morning and move them to the plants so no one steps on them... So much compassion for living things.

You don't buy into the norm and walk your own path. You have my sense of humor...Sorry Melanie. You excel in math and help others in class to solve math problems. You are bright and curious. Stubborn and wise. Passionate and obsessive. I love the way your brain works...I am fascinated by it. I love to hear your take on any topic you choose to discuss. You are a great debater and fervidly defend your opinions and observations. You have such a quick wit and you are very animated and funny. You are still shy and reserved in front of strangers and adults, but you are making progress in that area. You speak Spanish beautifully now but refuse to speak it when your mom and I prompt you to. You mimic and impersonate everyone, and I am your favorite victim. Thanks to you, I now know what I look like and sound like when I laugh.

  Happy 9th Birthday to the funniest kid I know.

I love you Apollo!

Love Dada

Up with the Sun

"Dada!" a hushed but enthusiastic voice whispers in my ear, "Let's get up! It's starting to get light out!" I slowly grab my phone from the nightstand to check the time. Forcing my eyes to focus, I read the time on the display; 5:55 a.m..
  It's Saturday morning. The whispering is not for my benefit. It's not intended to wake me slowly or gently. Nor is it intended to be sweet. It is an exercise in caution on Orion's part for fear of waking up his mother. How does the saying go? "Hell hath no fury like Melanie awakened too early." Close enough.
 I close my eyes and roll back into my pillow's, in a futile attempt to fall back to sleep for just a few more minutes.
"Dada! Get up!"

I'm not one for sleeping in, but another hour of sleep would be appreciated once in a while. Still, I cant be angry with Orion. My reaction is quite the opposite. I find myself smiling, eyes still closed, letting him tug at my arms trying to pull me out of bed. Most weekend mornings, it is Orion that is the first to rise, but Apollo is usually not far behind. On the rare occasion that Orion sleeps past 6:30 a.m., it is Apollo that will be trying to pull me out of bed. I feel fortunate that Apollo and Orion want me to get up with them so we can spend time together, I'm sure I have only a few years left before that changes. I will gladly give up a little sleep in exchange for these mornings.

I have to admit that I love daylight savings time...yes, I am the one. I like waking up with the sun and finishing the day with the long evenings before the sun sets. It's spring time now and daylight savings has begun, so it may have been getting light out at 5:55 a.m., but certainly not that light. I think we all have a bit of spring fever. The rain was relentless this winter and besides the never ending and record setting water falling from the sky, it was dark and gloomy for months as well.

You can tell it's been a long winter when your 8-year-old has become an origami master and your 5-year-old kindergartner in a Spanish immersion school, learned to spell s-h-i-t not only forward but backwards...in mirror image...in the condensation of a freezer glass door in an upscale grocery store, so when he closed the door, you could read the word from the outside. Yup...that's my kid. Of course Apollo and I thought is was hilarious as well as ingenious. It may have been at that point that Melanie left us in the isle alone and denied knowing any of us. There were some looks of disapproval to be sure, but they obviously couldn't see the genius behind it like I could. Yes, I did explain to Orion that what he did was inappropriate but I also had to give him kudos for creativity. 

When questioned, Orion was quick to point out that Apollo taught him how to spell that word. Apollo denies this, but he's not fooling anyone. 

"Dada," Orion begins, "there's another potty word, but I don't know how to spell it yet...It starts with an F."

...Time to head outdoors...