Monday morning, 1:45AM. Laura and I walk into the boys room. We turn on the light. Nothing happens. (They re sound sleepers.) Boys, it s time to get up to go get on the train! Four eyes pop open. Yay! Oh I m so excited! And then, Meow! (They enjoy playing with their stuffed cats that Laura got them for Christmas.) Before long, it was out the door to the train station. We even had time to stop at a donut shop along the way. We climbed into our family bedroom (a sleeping car room on Amtrak specifically designed for families of four), and as the train started to move, the excitement of what was going on crept in. Yes, it s 2:42AM, but these are two happy boys: Jacob and Oliver love trains, and this was the beginning of a 3-day train trip from Newton to Seattle that would take us through Kansas, Colorado, the Rocky Mountains of New Mexico, Arizona, Los Angeles, up the California coast, through the Cascades, and on to Seattle. Whew! Here we are later that morning before breakfast: Here s our train at a station stop in La Junta, CO: And at the beautiful small mountain town of Raton, NM: Some of the passing scenery in New Mexico: Through it all, we found many things to pass the time. I don t think anybody was bored. I took the boys exploring the train several times we d walk from one end to the other and see what all was there. There was always the dining car for our meals, the lounge car for watching the passing scenery, and on the Coast Starlight, the Pacific Parlor Car. Here we are getting ready for breakfast one morning. Getting to select meals and order in the train restaurant was a big deal for the boys. Laura brought one of her origami books, which even managed to pull the boys away from the passing scenery in the lounge car for quite some time. Origami is serious business: They had some fun wrapping themselves around my feet and challenging me to move. And were delighted when I could move even though they were trying to weight me down! Several games of Uno were played, but even those sometimes couldn t compete with the passing scenery: The Coast Starlight features the Pacific Parlor Car, which was built over 50 years ago for the Santa Fe Hi-Level trains. They ve been updated; the upper level is a lounge and small restaurant, and the lower level has been turned into a small theater. They show movies in there twice a day, but most of the time, the place is empty. A great place to go with little boys to run around and play games. The boys and I sort of invented a new game: roadrunner and coyote, loosely based on the old Looney Tunes cartoons. Jacob and Oliver would be roadrunners, running around and yelling MEEP MEEP! Meanwhile, I was the coyote, who would try to catch them even briefly succeeding sometimes but ultimately fail in some hilarious way. It burned a lot of energy. And, of course, the parlor car was good for scenery-watching too: We were right along the Pacific Ocean for several hours sometimes there would be a highway or a town between us and the beach, but usually there was nothing at all between us and the coast. It was beautiful to watch the jagged coastline go by, to gaze out onto the ocean, watching the birds apparently so beautiful that I didn t even think to take some photos. Laura s parents live in California, and took a connecting train. I had arranged for them to have a sleeping car room near ours, so for the last day of the trip, we had a group of 6. Here are the boys with their grandparents at lunch Wednesday: We stepped off the train in Seattle into beautiful King Street Station. Our first day in Seattle was a quiet day of not too much. Laura s relatives live near Lake Washington, so we went out there to play. The boys enjoyed gathering black rocks along the shore. We went blackberry picking after that filled up buckets for a cobbler. The next day, we rode the Seattle Monorail. The boys have been talking about this for months a kind of train they ve never been on. That was the biggest thing in their minds that they were waiting for. They got to ride in the very front, by the operator. Nice view from up there. We walked through the Pike Market I hadn t been in such a large and crowded place like that since I was in Guadalajara: At the Seattle Aquarium, we all had a great time checking out all the exhibits. The please touch one was a particular hit. Walking underneath the salmon tank was fun too. We spent a couple of days doing things closer to downtown. Laura s cousin works at MOHAI, the Museum of History and Industry, so we spent a morning there. The boys particularly enjoyed the old periscope mounted to the top of the building, and the exhibit on chocolate (of course!) They love any kind of transportation, so of course we had to get a ride on the Seattle Streetcar that comes by MOHAI. All weekend long, we had been noticing the seaplanes taking off from Lake Washington and Lake Union (near MOHAI). So finally I decided to investigate, and one morning while Laura was doing things with her cousin, the boys and I took a short seaplane ride from one lake to another, and then rode every method of transportation we could except for ferries (we did that the next day). Here is our Kenmore Air plane: The view of Lake Washington from 1000 feet was beautiful: I think we got a better view than the Space Needle, and it probably cost about the same anyhow. After splashdown, we took the streetcar to a place where we could eat lunch right by the monorail tracks. Then we rode the monorail again. Then we caught a train (it went underground a bit so it was a subway to them!) and rode it a few blocks. There is even scenery underground, it seems. We rode a bus back, and saved one last adventure for the next day: a ferry to Bainbridge Island. Laura and I even got some time to ourselves to go have lunch at an amazing Greek restaurant to celebrate a year since we got engaged. It s amazing to think that, by now, it s only a few months until our wedding anniversary too! There are many special memories of the weekend I could mention visiting with Laura s family, watching the boys play with her uncle s pipe organ (it s in his house!), watching the boys play with their grandparents, having all six of us on the train for a day, flying paper airplanes off the balcony, enjoying the cool breeze on the ferry and the beautiful mountains behind the lake. One of my favorites is waking up to high-pitched Meow? Meow meow meow! Wake up, brother! sorts of sounds. There was so much cat-play on the trip, and it was cute to hear. I have the feeling we won t hear things like that much more. So many times on the trip I heard, Oh dad, I am so excited! I never get tired of hearing that. And, of course, I was excited, too.

Near the beautiful Swedish town of Lindsborg, Kansas, there stands a hill known as Coronado Heights. It lies in the midst of the Smoky Hills, named for the smoke-like mist that sometimes hangs in them. We Kansans smile our usual smile when we tell the story of how Francisco V squez de Coronado famously gave up his search for gold after reaching this point in Kansas. Anyhow, it was just over a year ago that Laura, Jacob, Oliver, and I went to Coronado Heights at the start of summer, 2013 our first full day together as a family. Atop Coronado Heights sits a castle , an old WPA project from the 1930s: The view from up there is pretty nice: And, of course, Jacob and Oliver wanted to explore the grounds. As exciting as the castle was, simple rocks and sand seemed to be just as entertaining. After Coronado Heights, we went to a nearby lake for a picnic. After that, Jacob and Oliver wanted to play at the edge of the water. They loved to throw rocks in and observe the splash. Of course, it pretty soon descended (or, if you are a boy, ascended ) into a game of splash your brother. And then to splash Dad and Laura . Fun was had by all. What a wonderful day! Writing the story reminds me of a little while before that the first time all four of us enjoyed dinner and smores at a fire by our creek. Jacob and Oliver insisted on sitting or, well, flopping on Laura s lap to eat. It made me smile. (And yes, she is wearing a Debian hat.)

5213. 5213. Silence. Train office to train 5213. More silence. Train office to train 5213. Is there an emergency? At this point, I had a decision to make. Jacob s voice was sounding a little vexed over the radio he was using to talk to me from the next room. Do I answer it, even though he had told me I was a different train number? I decided yes. So I said into my radio, What do you need, train office? An exasperated sigh came over my radio. DAD! You are train 51. If I call a different train, DO NOT ANSWER! Well. I guess now I know. Jacob has been having a lot of fun with radios lately. His favorite game is to pretend to be a train dispatcher. He ll tell me, Laura, or Oliver where to go, what track to take, what passengers to pick up, or anything else he can come up with. Sometimes one radio isn t enough he may even have two radios clipped to him in various places. We play radio hide and seek (where you use radios to give hints or tell people when you re ready to be found). We play train office. We use radios to communicate across the room sometimes, even. Pretty amazing to see him doing that. He s taken an interest in my amateur radios, too. He s been practicing under close supervision, of course how to use them, and how to properly give his callsign on the air. The boy is a natural. It s fun to watch him dive into something like that and enjoy it so much!

AAAAHHH! LOOK OUT! A SHARK! Such were the cries a few first graders raised Monday. Laura and I had gone to school to eat lunch with Jacob this was his last week of first grade. We stayed for recess after lunch, and Jacob and his friend told us to pretend to be a shark lurking underneath the bridges and things of the playground. I was told that adults are too old to climb up here. So Laura and I started chasing Jacob and his friend around the playground equipment. And, much to their delight, they were usually able to evade us. And, to their even greater delight, sometimes I could reach up and brush a shoe or leg. Pretty soon Laura had enough of the game, but about then other kids started to notice what was going on. Shark-taunting began ( nana-booboo! ), and pretty soon half a dozen first-graders were running away from the shark! Eventually, it was time to go in, and it had been a great time. Jacob had been proud to have Laura and me there to eat lunch with him. He got to be the first in his class to go to lunch, happily slipping into the tour guide role he loves. Sometimes he would tell us in exacting detail what would happen. Other times, I d ask something like how will we know when lunch is over, and he d get a sly smile and say, You will see! The next day was Jacob s last at school, and Oliver had also recently finished preschool. So Laura and I planned a graduation party . We came up with some ideas of things they might like to do, and let them choose. Thankfully they both agreed on a choice: water slide. My parents gave them water slides one time, and we got one out, hooked it up to the hose, and let them have fun. And boy, did they ever! And after the better part of an hour running with delight on the water slide, they decided to turn another slide into a water slide. So I helped them rig up a hose on our slide, and they d slide down it, and splash into a giant mud puddle at the bottom. Or, as the case may be, just stand in the mud, enjoying it. We then went out to eat at one of their favorite restaurants and even had time to play in a park. Yes, a wonderful celebration. All four of us were wearing smiles that day. It reminded me of Jacob s school year, but also of the past year it was about a year ago that Jacob and Oliver first had the chance to really meet Laura. I have many photos and stories from the past year that I ll be sharing in the next little while. What an incredible year it has been!

Me: Goodnight, Jacob. I love you, and I always will. Jacob: *happy sigh* Goodnight dad. I love you too. But dad, will you love us if you go on a trip? Me: Of course! Even when Jacob, interrupting, and serious: Dad, you should not take a train trip without me. Me: Jacob, I promise that I will take you on more train trips. Jacob: And Oliver! Me: Oh yes! I promise I will take you and Oliver on more train trips. Jacob: Another happy sigh, and a big smile. Dad, you have to remember your promise forever, OK? Me: Yes, Jacob, I will remember that promise forever. Good night. (written January 19, 2013, but somehow forgot to click publish back then.)

Spring in the prairie is a bit of an odd thing this year. Here and there, near ditches and creeks, a short, soft blanket of lush green grass covers the ground. A few feet away, patches of green are visible between the brown shoots of last year s grass. Some trees are already turning green, purple, red, and white, while others stand still and brown, stubbornly insisting that spring is not here yet. To look at the thermometer may not be much guide either; two days after the temperature was nearly 90, we woke to see a dusting of snow on the ground. It s been dry, terribly try in Kansas. Grass next to a gravel driveway or road often has a chalkish layer of dust on it, kicked up by passing cars or even a stiff wind. The earth thirsts. It is somehow fitting to celebrate Easter, that spring holiday, in the midst of the dry ground, to remember that water is not the only thing that can quench thirst. Easter morning began sleepily, as we got up early to head to a sunrise service. It was in a pasture just outside a small Kansas town, and we gathered there at about 6:15, wearing only light jackets against the breeze. A fire was burning, and there was water on hand to quickly douse any grass that caught first that wasn t supposed to and it was occasionally used. I was doing the prelude for the service, playing on my penny whistle. I enjoyed being able to do that, and was glad that the wind was calm enough that it didn t interfere too much with the music. We sang some hymns, listened to some Bible readings, and just stood in silence, listening to the crackle of the fire, some country dogs playing, and watching the sky to the east transform as the sun came up. Then it was on to church for breakfast, and a break before the Easter service the pipe organ ringing, piano playing with it, and deep trombone and full sanctuary of people singing our 4-part Easter hymns celebrating the day. Laura had the idea of pinning carnations onto the cross, and we got to watch everyone come up and add theirs. Jacob and Oliver enjoyed the sunrise service. They decided they would keep a watchful eye on the first and the dogs, they enjoyed muffins at breakfast and playing in the church after that. But if you are 4 or 7, what is Easter without an Easter egg hunt? And they got in several. Laura and I hid some eggs around the yard. Jacob asked me to use a radio to tell them when the eggs were ready. Here they are, bounding out the door to begin the hunt! And, of course, if you are 4 or 7 and have a geek for a dad, you will naturally think to bring radios with you to the next hunt. To tell your brother what you re finding, of course. It was a good weekend, and in fact, Jacob even volunteered to put up a wet floor sign after he spilled some water: On the last car ride of the day, Jacob decided he would write a story about his Easter. He decided he would publish a big book, and be a famous author and make other children happy. Oliver, of course, decided he needed an Easter story also. We couldn t very well publish a book in the car, but I did manage to use my phone to capture their stories. It s been a long and busy week, but there is much to be joyful about, even when tired.

The scene: early one morning as the sun has just started to rise. Jacob and Oliver, ages 7 and 4, are the first people to wake up in the house their grandparents in California, where the four of us are visiting for the first time as a family. They have a conversation and decide that would be a good to go find a mystery. They decide to take their flashlights pink and blue, matching each boy s favorite color and slowly, but not very quietly, open their bedroom door and creep out. Brother, you forgot your flashlight! says Oliver. Oh, thanks brother! I ll get it! says Jacob. Meanwhile, Laura s mom wakes up, and notices two boys with flashlights creeping through the living room. Pretty soon they reach the kitchen, open the dishwasher, spy a suspicious-looking bowl, and decide that they have found the mystery a clean bowl! Or, at least that s the story that I pieced together based on what a 4-year-old and the grandma he awakened told me. We were on our first family trip to the Fresno, California area, to visit Laura s parents Jacob and Oliver s new grandparents. They ve played together before, but as this was our first visit to their place, there was quite the excitement. The boys had flown before, but it was several years ago and neither of them remember it well, so they were excited about that, too. The night before, Jacob woke up to tell me Dad, I am too excited to sleep. I think I will go downstairs and watch some TV. He didn t get too far with that plan. But he was excited. We went through security at the laid-back Wichita airport (where the TSA agents smile and there are often no security lines at all). We found our gate with enough time to grab lunch, which we did. The boys and I then did what we often do to kill time: explore. We explored the terminal, watching carpet-layers cut out carpet for the jetway, watching the construction of the new Terminal 3 out the window. And, of course, watching airplanes take off and land from the terminal s large windows. Finally it was our turn to board, and we all got on the plane: Jacob and Oliver with their backpacks of on-board activites, Laura and me with the rest of our carryon luggage, for the short trip to Denver. Jacob and Oliver s noses were pressed against the windows. Or, well, Jacob s was. Oliver s window was a little too high for him, but he was thrilled anyhow. They delighted in the airplane snacks, and the fact that they were allowed to drink pop on the plane. We packed books and some new art supplies for them (colored post-its, pages from a train-themed page-a-day calendar, a notebook, and a set of colored pens really seemed to do the trick.) We had a choice of 35 minutes or 4 hours between flights in Denver, and I had chosen 4 hours, thinking that would be a lot less stressful with boys. And it was. We found a nice corner of the mezzanine to sit for awhile they did art projects and played a game with Laura. Then I took them exploring Denver. We rode the moving sidewalks up and down the terminal, took a train ride to another terminal and back, ate supper all together, and flew to Fresno. We had stopped in the Wichita airport to buy them each a souvenir airplane, and these came out often during the rest of the trip. They enjoyed the mockups of the sequoias in Fresno Yosemite International Airport, enjoyed their beds and their room at the house, and did actually manage to fall asleep eventually. We had a few days there, where they played in a park, with bubbles on the patio, or croquet in the yard (I even discovered Jacob happily using the cast his broken arm is in as a hammer to pound the hoops into the ground!) There are a lot of miniatures in the house, and the boys enjoyed exploring the dollhouses and especially the N-gauge model train. Jacob enjoyed it so much he asked me to record a video of him playing with the trains. Evenings often brought book-reading, from the many children s books in the house. At home, Laura and I and both boys often scrunch onto an oversized chair and read a book and sing a song (one I make up on whatever topic they choose). Over there, we often had Laura, Jacob, Oliver, Laura s mom, and me scrunched up somewhere while the boys heard a story read to them by their grandma. That happened plenty of times other than bedtime, too. (Or Jacob would take his favorite books and read them to himself.) Laura s parents organized a reception Sunday for us, for the people from that area that couldn t make it to our wedding. Jacob and Oliver, predictably, had fun playing and even talked to some of the adults. The adults that didn t ask Jacob about his cast, anyhow (he dislikes talking about it). The boys discovered a live mic at the church where the reception was, and do I detect two future pastors in our midst? We had a great time at Laura s uncle and aunt s place. The boys were happy to discover an orange tree in their backyard, a tetherball post not far away, and an uncle ready to give them a demonstration of a swimming pool vacuum cleaner or sit at the piano with them. Jacob s favorite part, though, was when the hamburger buns his great uncle were toasting were left on the grill during the prayer before the meal, got a bit scorched, and the uncle remarked with a chuckle that I guess the Lord was tired of listening to me drone on! Jacob loved his meal, and cackled at the thought of a prayer causing buns to get scorched. But their highlight was the visit to the sequoias at Kings Canyon National Park the next day. The excitement had been building for that day all weekend. On the way out, we stopped at a fruit stand and bought some delicious strawberries the fresh, juicy, sweet and tasty kind that are red all the way through. We continued up through the foothills, stopping periodically to get out and stretch, look at the sights, take some photos, or borrow grandpa s binoculars. I knew we d be traveling in two cars, so I had the thought to pack some 2-way radios before we left. I gave one to the boys and one to the grandparents. All weekend long, whenever the six of us went somewhere, the boys (and especially Jacob) would give directions to the car that was following. Turn right! The light is green! Catch up, you re going too slow! So all the way into the mountains, Jacob would send back instructions on what to do. We saw Grant Grove, home to the worlds third-largest tree (267ft/81m tall and 3000 years old). It s quite the impressive tree the trunk s diameter near the ground is 29ft or almost 9m. As we walked the trails, their speed kept increasing as they were hunting for the tree tunnel I had told them about a tree that fell centuries ago and had been hollowed out to make a home. That trunk was easily 8ft or more in diameter, and I could stand up completely in places. We found it, to much delight from the boys So this is what it s like to be inside a tree! Our trip home brought a delay in Denver and a missed flight, which excited the boys when I told them now we get to eat supper in the airport! I wonder how long that tactic will work But Jacob was also excited because the plane we were put on in the end was bigger than the one we were scheduled on, so that was another piece of excitement. We got home, and I carried two sleeping boys in from the car, upstairs, tucked them in, pulled off their shoes, and put their favorite stuffed animals in their arms. They were happy to be home, and with memories to treasure for a long time.

Loanwords can often appear more insightful than they really are. How prescient of another culture to codify such a concept into a single word! They surely must have lofty and perceptive discussions if it was necessary to coin and codify one. But whilst there is always the danger of over-inflating the currency of the loanword especially the compound one there must be a few that are worth the trouble. One such term is fingerspitzengef hl. Literally meaning "finger-tips feeling" in German, it attempts to capture the idea of an intuitive sophistication, flair or instinct. Someone exhibiting fingerspitzengef hl would be able to respond appropriately, delicately and tactfully to certain things or situations. Oliver Reichenstein clarifies the distinction from a personal taste:

Whether I like pink or not, sugar in my coffee, red or white wine, these things are a matter of personal taste. These are personal preferences, and both designers and non-designers have them. This is the taste we shouldn't bother discussing. Whether I set a text s line height to 100% or 150% is not a matter of taste, it is a matter of knowing the principles of typography. However, whether I set a text s line height at 150% or 145% is a matter of Fingerspitzengef hl; wisdom in craft, or sophistication.

Fingerspitzengef hl is therefore not innate and is probably refined over the years via subconscious rather than conscious study and reflection. However, it always flows naturally in the moment, not dissimilar to Castiglione's sprezzatura. Personally, I am particularly enamoured how this concept of a "trained taste" appears to blur the line between an objective and subjective aesthetic, putting me somewhat at odds with those who baldly assert that taste is "obviously" entirely individual.

Today was our first expedition to the local Playgroup at the Bulimba Senior Citizen's Centre, an easy 5 minute bike ride from our place. I told Zoe we were going to Playgroup when Sarah dropped her around this morning, and she got very excited and jumped up and down. When Sarah asked her if she knew what Playgroup was, she said "no!" while continuing to jump up and down excitedly. We all laughed. I must have put this on my calendar when I was in Sydney last week, because I had it down for 8:30am, and we rocked up and there wasn't anyone there. A lady arrived to set up for a music class, and she said that the Playgroup didn't usually start until much later, so I figured I'd had a timezone fail and we went for a little bike ride around Bulimba while we waited. The lady who was running the Playgroup arrived at about 9:15am, and so we helped with the set up. Basically lots of toys, a couple of slides and some basic craft stuff. Heaps of the little IKEA round plastic stools. Parents (almost exclusively mothers) started trickling in from 9:30am. I've got a total name overload. We need name tags. Most of the girls seemed to be about 2 and a half, and a lot of the mothers had very young second children. Apparently a mother's group had joined en masse because they all had second children who were crawling, and so meeting in a park wasn't practical any more. Structurally, the first hour or so was just a free for all, and the last half an hour was some songs, a story and some playing under and on a parachute. All in all it was a good morning's activity, and at $20 for the term, nice and cheap. Apparently you're supposed to join Playgroup Queensland as well, for $40, but that takes care of liability insurance and whatnot. If only their website used SSL. Zoe mostly just wanted to play with me. We did a lot of role playing with some dolls, and she checked out the various toys. She loved that there was a stage, and took it upon herself to give an impromptu dance performance for a bit. We also did a little craft activity. She seemed more interested in helping flap the parachute than going under it, but enjoyed having a ride on it when the time came. I've just finished reading How Not to F*** Them Up by Oliver James. It was quite an interesting read, although not particularly applicable for my situation, as it more dealt with the first three years. It was interesting observing a whole bunch of different mothering techniques in action, both in dealing with their toddler children, and how they responded to their second infants. After Playgroup, we biked over to the local toy shop around the corner from home, and grabbed some birthday presents for the birthday party on Saturday and came home for lunch. Chicken quesadillas and some mango (I hadn't realised how much I've missed Queensland mangoes until we moved back, and I'm glad Zoe loves them as well). I got her down for a nap earlier today, and after she woke up, I asked Zoe if she wanted to write on the birthday cards we'd bought for the twins' birthday presents. She said she didn't know how to write her name (which isn't true) and wanted to paint them instead, so we compromised and used some sponge letters to stamp "Z O E" on the cards in paint. Zoe said that Eva's favourite colour was purple and Layla's was pink (or it may have been the other way around), so we stamped one with purple paint and mixed red and white to make something that looked more orange than pink and stamped the other one. Then Zoe wanted to glue the two paper plates together that we'd been using to hold the paint, so we did that, and then she wanted to "hand paint" a cardboard tube, which seemed to involve me directly squirting various colours into her hands and then her "painting" the tube with what was in her hands. The tube quickly ended up a brown/grey colour. All in all, it was a fabulous mess, and fortunately no walls or doors copped any paint on the way to the bathroom to clean up. After that, we cleaned up Zoe's room a bit, which resulted in her going off and playing with her Magna Doodle with Smudge for a bit, and then we played Doctor with her doctor set and then we did some baking. It was a good afternoon, and she only asked to watch TV once, when she first woke up from her nap, and we managed to successfully divert to other much more fun stuff.

One week before the wedding, to Laura: Mono won t just clear up right away. One week before the wedding, to me: That s going to need stitches. Yes, not long before the wedding, Laura had come down with mononucleosis and I had cut into my finger with a very sharp knife while cutting bread requiring a trip to the emergency room to get stitches. Two days before we got married, instead of moving furniture, I was getting stitches out of my finger. It wasn t the kind of week we had planned. But it was the happiest, most amazing occasion I could have ever imagined. As I wrote last month, I am richly blessed indeed. Our wedding was three days after Christmas. The church was still decorated for Christmas, with the tree in on corner, glittering stars suspended in mid-air on cables from the walls, wreaths and candles in the windows, and it was a joy-filled day. Before the ceremony, we took pictures the only part of the day Jacob and Oliver weren t thrilled with. Nevertheless, we got some fun ones. Laura and I seem to know quite a few pastors between us and not just because Laura is a pastor. My brother officiated with the wedding vows, his wife with scripture and a prayer of blessing, and the church s pastor gave the message. Laura and I wrote in our wedding program, Music has long been a thread running through both our lives. We have enjoyed singing together, playing piano and pennywhistle duets, attending concerts, and even exploring old hymnals. Music is also one of the best ways to have a conversation even a conversation with God. We wrote a page in the program about each of the hymns that were a part of the wedding, and why we picked them. The combined church choirs of my home church and Laura s church sang John Rutter s beautiful arrangement of For the Beauty of the Earth (click here to listen to a different choir). Hearing For the beauty of each hour , For the joy of human love , and Lord of all, to thee we raise this our joyful hymn of praise was perfect for the day. It was with such great happiness that we walked out of the sanctuary, a married couple, to the sound of the congregation singing Joy to the World! Jacob and Oliver were so very excited on our wedding day. They happily explored the church while waiting for things to happen. We had them help us light our unity candle, and they were pleased with that. Jacob loved his suit, which made him look just like me. And they were, of course, delighted with the cake and in the middle of it all. For our honeymoon, we managed to get two weeks of vacation, and spent about half of it at home. We had looked at various options for retreats in the country, but eventually concluded that our house is a retreat in the country, so might as well enjoy it at home. We also went to the Palo Duro Canyon area near Amarillo in the Texas panhandle, staying in a small B&B in Canyon, TX. Palo Duro is the second-largest canyon in North America, and quite colorful year-round. What a beautiful place to go for our honeymoon! By the time we got there, Laura was getting past mono, and we went for hikes in the canyon on two different days hiking a total of 10 miles, including a hike up the side of the canyon. After we got back home, on the last weekday of our honeymoon, we went back to the Flint Hills of Kansas, to some of the same places we had spent our third date. We climbed the windy staircase at the Chase County Courthouse, the oldest courthouse still in use in Kansas. And peered out its famous oval window. We found the last remnant of the old ghost town of Elk, ate at the same restaurant we had that day. It brought back wonderful memories, and it was a good day in itself. Because even though it was a gold, drizzly, overcast day in January, this time, we were married. And this year, Thanksgiving is all year.

It s wedding week! Wedding week! Wedding week! Wedding week! Oh, also Christmas. Oh dad, it s wedding week! I can t believe it! It s finally here! Wedding week! Jacob, age 7, Sunday Oh dad, this is the best Christmas EVER! Jacob, Wednesday Dad, is the wedding TODAY? Oliver, age 4, every morning this week This has certainly been a Christmas like no other. I have never known something to upstage Christmas for Jacob, but apparently a wedding can! Laura and I got to celebrate our first Christmas together this year together, of course, with the boys. We enjoyed a wonderful day in the middle of a busy week, filled with play, family togetherness, warmth, and happiness. At one point, while I was helping the boys with their new model train components, Laura was enjoying playing Christmas tunes on the piano. Every time she d reach the end, Jacob paused, and said, That was awesome! , beating me to it. That s a few days before Christmas Jacob and Oliver demanding snow ice cream, and of course who am I to refuse? Cousins opening presents After his school Christmas program, Jacob has enjoyed singing. Here he is after the Christmas Eve program, where he excitedly ran up into the choir loft, picked up a hymnal, and pretended to sing. And, of course, opening of presents at home. Sometimes I think about how I didn t know life could get this good. Soon Laura and I will be married, and it will be even better. Truly we have been richly blessed.

Almost every time he got off the bus for the past month and a half, Jacob started his afternoon in the same way. Before toys, before his trains and his toy bus, before anything indoors, he went for our cats. Here he is, cradling his favorite, Tigger: Laura and I both grew up around cats. We had been talking about kittens, and shortly after we got engaged, one of my relatives offered us some free kittens. We went to his place one evening and selected two of them one calico and one tiger-colored. Since what is now my place will soon be our place, they came to live with me. Our cats were one of the first things we did to prepare for our lives together. Oliver wanted to name them some rather impractical sentence-long names ( The Cat Who Always Likes To Run ), so Laura and I suggested some names from one of their favorite books: Tigger and Roo. They both liked the names, but Oliver thought they should be called Tigger the Digger and Roo the Runner . Never mind that they were just 6 weeks old at the time, and not really old enough to either dig or run. Here s Oliver with Roo, the day after the kittens arrived here. I have always had outside cats, both because I m allergic to cats so I need them to be outside, and because they sometimes literally quiver with joy of being outdoors. Tigger and Roo often chased insects, wrestled with each other, ran up (and slowly came back down) trees, and just loved the outside. Sometimes, I have taken my laptop and wireless headset and work from the back porch. The kittens climb up my jeans, inspect the laptop, and once Roo even fell asleep on my lap at one of those times. Jacob has been particularly attached to Tigger, calling him my very best friend. When Jacob picks him up after school, Tigger often purrs while cradled in Jacob s arms, and Jacob comments that Tigger loves me. Oh dad, he knows I am his friend! The kittens have been growing, and becoming more and more comfortable with their home in the country. Whenever I go outside, it isn t long before there are two energetic kittens near my feet, running back and forth, sometimes being very difficult to avoid stepping on. I call and I see little heads looking at me, from up in a tree, or peeking out from the grain elevator door, or from under the grill. They stare for just a second, and then start running, sometimes comically crashing into something in their haste. Yesterday when I went to give them food, I called and no cats came. I was concerned, and walked around the yard, but at some point either they come or they don t. Yesterday afternoon, just after the bus dropped off Jacob, I discovered Tigger on the ground, motionless. Once Jacob was in the house, I went to investigate, and found Tigger was dead. As I was moving his body, I saw Roo was dead, too. Both apparently from some sort of sudden physical injury a bit mysterious, because neither of them were at a place where they had ever gone before. While all this was happening, I had to also think about how I was going to tell the boys about this. I tried to minimize what he could see, Jacob had caught an unavoidable glimpse of Tigger as we were walking back from the bus, but didn t know exactly what had happened. He waited in the house, and when I came back, asked me if Tigger was dead. I said he was. Jacob started crying, saying, Oh Dad, I am so sad , and reached up for a hug. I picked him up and held him, then sat down on the couch and let him curl up on my lap. I could quite honestly let him know he wasn t alone, telling him I am sad, too. Oliver arrived not long after, and he too was sad, though not as much as Jacob. Both boys pretty soon wanted to see them. I decided this was important for them for closure, and to understand, so while they waited in the house, I went back out to arrange the kittens to hide their faces, the part that looks most unnatural after they die. The boys and I walked out to where I put them, then I carried both of them the last few feet. We stood a little ways back close enough to see who was there, far enough to not get too much detail and they were both sniffling. I tried to put voice to the occasion, saying, Goodbye, Tigger and Roo. We love you. Oliver asked if they could hear us. I said No, but I told them what I felt like anyway. Jacob, through tears, said, Dad, maybe they are in heaven now. We went back inside. Jacob said, Oh dad, I am so sad. This is the saddest day of my life. My heart is breaking. Hearing a 7-year-old say that isn t exactly easy for a dad. Pretty soon he was thinking of sort of comfort activities to do, saying I think I would feel better if we did So they decided to watch a favorite TV program. Jacob asked if Laura knew yet, and when I said no, he got his take-charge voice and said, Dad, you will start the TV show for us. While we are watching, you will send Laura an email to tell her about Tigger and Roo. OK? What could I say, it wasn t a bad idea. Pretty soon both boys were talking and laughing. It was Big Truck Night last night, at a town about half an hour away. It s an annual event we were already planning to attend, where all sorts of Big Trucks firetrucks, school bus, combine, bucket truck, cement truck, etc show up and are open for kids to climb in and explore. It s always a highlight for them. They played and sang happily as we drove, excitedly opened and closed the big door on the school bus and yelled All Aboard! from the top of the combine. We ate dinner, and drove back home. When we got home, Jacob mentioned the cats again, in a sort of matter-of-fact way, and also wanted to make sure he knew Laura had got the message. A person never wakes up expecting to have to dump a bowl of un-eaten cat food, or to give an impromptu cat funeral for little boys. As it was happening, I wished they hadn t been around right then. But in retrospect, I am glad they were. They had been part of life for those kittens, and it is only right that they could be included in being part of death. They got visual closure this way, and will never wonder if the cats are coming back someday. They had a chance to say goodbye. Here is how I remember the kittens.

Today, Oliver and Jacob heard about monorails. I showed them a wikipedia article about monorails, and it had a picture of a monorail in Germany. Oliver, age 4: I have been on that monorail! Me: Sorry, Oliver, but that monorail is in Germany. You have never been to Germany. Oliver: But I HAVE been to Germany! Me: No, you have never been to Germany. Oliver: Dad, I HAVE been to Germany. I love Germany! Jacob, taking an interest: Dad, can we go to Germany sometime? Me: Yes, we probably could sometime. Jacob: Great! Then we could ride a Deutsche Bahn train! At this point, we had a brief discussion about the fact that we can t take a train from the United States to Germany, but we can fly there and then take trains. Oliver: Dad, we should go the the airport and tell them to take us to Germany right now!

There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning. Louis L Amour

Last year, I wrote about the difficult times in my life and hope for future, but never really explained why. I have written little since, because there is little I can write without a bit of explanation. It is partly because of the complexity of the task of telling my story without telling too much of others stories. But it is important I tell this story. So often on the Internet, we hear only the brave face, the positive things that happen. This story involves tears and difficulty. And also we often see only anger and bitterness. This story involves joy and celebration. One afternoon last year, I was working as usual (I work from home) when two sheriff deputies arrived on my doorstep. They gave me paperwork showing that my now ex-wife had filed for divorce, had asked them to serve me the paperwork, and that she had been given temporary possession of the house. I had 2 hours to gather up clothes and a little computer equipment (there was a list) and leave the house. Thus began the most difficult time in my life. I went from reading a bedtime story and singing a bedtime song to my young boys every night to seeing them only a little, from living in the house my grandparents and dad had lived in to having no particular plan for where I d sleep that night, from thinking I had a good idea of what the future held to not knowing when, if ever, I d ever be back home. I worried about how the boys would fare (they have done well so far). And it was incomprehensible; I couldn t find answers to why? . In the time since, the divorce became final, I did return home, the boys spend more time with me, and a new normal emerged. At the time, it seemed like a sudden, deep winter blizzard. I couldn t see very far down the road, spring seemed far off, and I couldn t see very well either forward or backward. But I was determined to find positives in the situation. It started almost immediately; I had never been a person to talk about pain, but just a few hours after the divorce was filed, I knew I needed to talk to someone about it, and did. A week later, I shared about it in church. Amazing friends, locally and all over the world, provided support and encouragement. I had less total time with the boys than before the divorce, but more time with just the three of us, and we used it to play together at home, spend days in town, and even take a train trip to Santa Fe, where none of us had ever been before. I realized how much I could forgive, and that my ex-wife probably did the best she could with the persistent legacy of difficult life events that happened to her long before she met me. I understood this, and was never angry, just sad, for everyone. I have always known nobody is perfect, myself included, but can be hard on myself when I m less than perfect. I forgave myself, too, realizing that I did my best to help in the most unfamiliar of waters, and although I sometimes didn t get it right, my conscience is clear because my heart was in the right place and I tried, very hard. Most incredibly, I became a person with a deep sense of inner peace. I always tried to work hard to set life on a good path; I got good grades in school, am a good employee, and have a strong set of values. But where courts are involved, there s a strong sense of powerlessness. At times, there was nothing I could do to make life better for my boys or for me. I finally had to let go of taking on responsibility for all that on my own shoulders. I simply knew that things would be OK, and in fact were OK, and that there is nothing in life that really deserves worries. That doesn t mean worries are never present, but that mostly they are subdued, like a radio quietly playing in another room. When they aren t, I can sit down at the piano, play my penny whistle, sing, walk to my creek, talk to friends, or any of so many things that let them melt away. I stopped searching for happiness and peace, and let those things find me. In religious terms, my faith became not just an intellectual one, but also a spiritual one. An atheist friend asked me, Just what does religion mean to you anyway? My answer: The certainty that spring always comes, for everyone that understands this.

People speak of misfortunes and sufferings, remarked Pierre, but if at this moment I were asked: Would you rather be what you were before you were taken prisoner, or go through all this again? then for heaven s sake let me again have captivity and horseflesh! We imagine that when we are thrown out of our usual ruts all is lost, but it is only then that what is new and good begins. While there is life there is happiness. There is much, much before us. Tolstoy, War and Peace

By Thanksgiving, I had much to be thankful for. Some of it under my nose waiting to be rediscovered after years of distraction, such as the glorious Kansas sunrises. Some things were new, such as roasting a turkey all by myself (or, rather, with Jacob and Oliver) for the first time, and having it come out absolutely perfectly. And some were just the things of everyday life: that I lived in my own house again, that I could walk out to the creek at the edge of my property whenever I wanted, that I could play piano, that the sounds of laughter and little running feet again could often be heard on my wood floors. That s not to say everything was easy; the courts sometimes made decisions sometimes I didn t think were in the boys best interests, legal things dragged on and on, but in the end, peace endured. Happiness endured. I found myself thinking at Thanksgiving that it was the best Thanksgiving ever. Not much later, I considered myself happier than I ve ever been. I was focusing on the daily gifts of life, marveling at the sunrises, looking forward to life s next adventure, confident that it would be far better than the last. And then, to my complete surprise, I found myself in a relationship again. On top of all the wonderful things happening in my life, I met Laura. I never could have imagined a friend so wonderful, a relationship so loving and joyful, something to treasure so deeply. I can look back at events and shake my head in amazement and wonder, that I found myself happier than I d ever been, and then this wonderful relationship on top of that. I have been blessed to have the life I do, and feel almost embarrassingly lucky. I share this story because friends that had been through divorce years ago shared their stories. They gave me hope. And if I didn t share this story in this public way, I would be squandering an opportunity to find more positives from what happened. I hope that this helps, somehow, someone that is in pain know that there is beauty in the valley, and spring always comes, every single year. And I share it because happiness like this can t be repressed for long. Tolstoy was right. While there is life, there is happiness. I ll end with a story from last Thanksgiving. It was 6:10AM that weekend. I was still asleep, and heard this: Jacob, yelling from his room: Dad? Dad! Me, groggy: Yes, Jacob? Jacob: Can I go down and look at the Christmas tree? Me: Sure, and you can turn it on too. Jacob: Great! At that point, I could have gone back to sleep. I was really short on sleep that morning, and Jacob would have been fine. But I gave him a couple of minutes, then I went downstairs too. He was curled up on the piano bench, looking at the tree. I quietly turned up the downstairs thermostat, got a chair, put it next to the piano bench, and sat down by the tree too. Jacob crawled over onto my lap and snuggled up for awhile. Neither of us said anything. Then: Dad? Yes? This is the best Thanksgiving ever. And he gave me a big hug. And he was right. Yes, he was RIGHT! That will be the beginning. Spring comes!

Jacob, Oliver, and I were driving back home, about an 8-hour drive. At one point I heard Jacob say from the back seat, Oliver, you can t have my book. It has a bookmark in it! Aside from the apparent anti-sharing properties of bookmarks, I sort of smiled at Jacob inventing a bookmark. An hour later, I heard Oliver saying, Jacob, you can t have MY book. It has a bookmark too! And again I thought that sounded rather cute. The thought of traveling boys and they did travel very well bookmarking the books I brought for them was a nice one. And then I realized: I hadn t brought bookmarks. Or, as far as I could recall, bookmark-making material. I really wanted to say, Uhm, Jacob, just what did you make that bookmark from? But I didn t. I figured everyone would be happier not having to deal with that question.

I recently made a routine analysis of my kitchen. (Of course I make a routine analysis of my kitchen; don t you?) In it, I discovered these items, still usable, but approaching that magic throw it out date:

• Baby carrots
• Potatoes
• Lemons
• Green beans
• Corn

So, I thought, what can I make that would use all of these? And I realized I had some shrimp in the freezer, so: a shrimp boil! I tossed it all, plus some various seasonings and a few other veggies, into the Dutch oven, and boiled. Jacob and Oliver watched the activity with interest. Well, except for the potato-peeling part. For that, they went and played with their toy school buses. But the rest was good. They carefully observed me adding some spices, some vegetables, the shrimp, and watched it all simmer. Then it was time to eat. Excitement! Of course, it did take a few minutes to boil, so Jacob got down his whiteboard while Oliver looked on. They enjoyed learning how to peel the shell from the shrimp and devoured their food. And another night recently, Jacob unexpectedly showed up in the kitchen at 10PM. He said he was thirsty, so I got him some water. He asked, Dad, did you make ice cream? Earlier that day, I had prepared ice cream with Oliver, but it was a kind that had to be cooked (lemon with pureed strawberries and peaches) and it wasn t cool enough to finish before their bedtime. I did let them help add the ice and salt to the ice cream freezer just before they went to bed. So I told Jacob that yes, the ice cream was done. He stood there, tiredly, considering, with this oh he ll never say yes to ice cream at 10PM look on his face. So I said, would you like one bite right now? The look of delight on his face was amazing; a broad smile, a twinkle in his eyes, and a clap. So I got out the big bowl of ice cream and scooped up one big spoonful. He loved it. Then I said, should we go look at the stars? I carried Jacob outside to the porch. We stood there, looking up. I used to do this with him periodically, but it had been about a year. So he was thrilled. It was a partially overcast night, but there were still some stars visible. He had no idea there were some stars missing. To him, it was amazing and wonderful and infinite. Oh dad, there are way too many stars to count! He stayed there, arms around my neck, for a minute or two, then was ready to go back inside. I set him down, gave him a hug, said Goodnight, Jacob. And off he trotted, back upstairs, wearing a contented smile, and he fell asleep almost immediately. All it takes to delight children is a bit a shrimp or some stars. And those things delight me, too.

Today the outdoor temperatures got to nearly 75F/24C. The boys had this idea to go play with their streams . Here s one of the cleaner moments: I had set up an old pipe and a hose, with the water coming slowly out of the pipe onto a little mound of dirt. They can then use their fingers to make channels in the dirt for the water to flow through. They ve found that sticks can become bridges, making a hole in the earth makes a pond, and, oh yes, it s quite muddy and a lot of fun. Oliver at one point realized that he could splash the mud all around quite nicely. And he wanted to make sure I took photos of his hands. They could have played out there for hours, I m sure. When it was time to clean up, they enjoyed seeing the mud come off their sandals, arms, hands, and feet. It was a perfect use for the first really warm day of spring.