My Personal Assistant

Today's NaBloPoMo writing prompt is "If you had a personal assistant who would do your most dreaded tasks, which items from your to-do list would you assign out?"

Here's that list:

1. Feed all four cats at 5:30am and refresh their water.
2. Feed the dog and play fetch with him.
3. Prepare for my daughter: breakfast by 6:15am; a bagged lunch by 6:45am.
4. Put out my wife's medications for the day.
5. Scoop the litterboxes.
6. Prepare a bagged lunch for me.  (I'll take care of my own breakfast.)
7. Change the dressing on my wife's wound.
8. Make and receive all phone calls.
9. Pick up my daughter from school at 5:45pm.
10. Take my wife and daughter to all their appointments / functions.
11. Teach my daughter to drive.
12. Load the dishwasher properly.

I chose these tasks mostly because they either take place in the morning and require that I get up earlier than I'd like in order to do them myself, or they require being somewhere at a particular time or getting something done by a particular time.

My life would be so much better if I could get out of bed after dawn.  I'm sure I'd have more energy and effortlessly lose weight as a result.

I designed my career so that I could have a lifestyle in which I could ignore the clock.  I chose a lower-paying job in research, in which I could work odd hours, rather than in service, in which you'd tell someone what time you'd arrive and then actually arrive at that time^*.  I never went on vacations because I hate to fly and that's because you have to follow an airline schedule.  Likewise, I never went to the movies.

As a bachelor, I hardly ever needed to pay attention to the time.  Getting married, then, was a terrible mistake for someone like me.  My wife used something called an "alarm clock" that would suddenly make a loud noise at the same very early time each morning.  This was because she'd have to drive to her work place and arrive by 8am.  She'd also need me to tell her what time I'd get home from work and then get upset when I gave my usual answer ("I dunno") or failed to show up at whatever time I guessed I could make it home by.  Then there was the insistence that we go to Church, which meant paying attention to a clock on a Sunday!

Despite this wifely imposition of time, I did pretty well.  It wasn't until the Pregnancy that things got much more difficult.  There were more doctor visits for us during those nine months than I had my whole life.  And then after the birth, we were ruled by a living, screaming, excreting life form that you wouldn't dare ignore even if you were so sick that even your eyes hurt.  This is the same life form that, 17 years later, sends you racing to a place to pick her up or drop her off at a Certain Time, lest she show up embarrassingly late for a presentation, or be tempted to walk home alone in the dark in the sleeting rain wearing flip-flops.  That's way more responsibility than I ought to have.

I'm dreaming of my old life.  My daughter will have moved out.  My wife would be dead or living in Florida with her best friend.  If I was curious enough, the alarm clock could show me the time, but it certainly wouldn't make a sound ever again.  I'd probably not bother to switch between Standard Time and Daylight Savings Time.

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^* This is a quaint notion. Nowadays, someone in service will give you what's called a "window" which is essentially a free pass to show up at any time on a given day and still be considered punctual.

Welcome to USA Pope Francis

Pope Francis will be visiting the USA from today until Friday, so I'd like to extend a warm welcome to him.

It seems a fitting time to give readers a condensed timeline of my religious background, especially since it all started with Catholicism.

I was born in the early1960s to Roman Catholic parents and baptized into the Church, in which I had my first Communion and Confirmation.

Both G-d and Santa Claus were used as threats in order to temper my behavior.  G-d would punish me while Santa would grant or deny presents.  Actually, I never believed in Santa; I knew my parents and other relatives provided the presents.  Rather than write a letter to Santa for presents, I would simply pray for them.  And I'd write a list for my mom.

Being musically inclined, I was involved in the Folk Group as a teen.  We played during the Saturday evening Mass.  Then I turned 18 and graduated high school, and I left the group and stopped attending Mass altogether.

In my mid twenties, I went on a binge of reading about Christian Mysticism, as described here.

That changed after I proposed to my fiance and we became engaged.  She was Roman Catholic, too.  One of her first actions was to pin down a wedding date, select a Church and have us start attending Mass together.  Since we both viewed Catholicism as more punitive than nurturing, we "shopped" all the local Christian congregations until we settled on a modest Lutheran church in our town.  I joined their choir to sing bass, and we were married there several months later.

Our daughter was born a few years later.  We continued to attend services weekly.  Six months later, our daughter was baptized.  We would keep our tiny daughter with us in the pew among the other choir members and walk out with her if she acted up, which she rarely did.

After our daughter became a toddler, we decided to leave her in the daycare that was provided.  At this point she could become upset and quickly react with a meltdown under certain conditions, including being left alone in a room.  We called that separation anxiety.  So on that first day in the nursery we made sure she was comfortable and occupied, and we reassured her that we'd be back.  She seemed fine.  About twenty minutes later, the daycare provider was trying to comfort our screaming daughter, who was writhing and arching her back as if the woman was torturing her.  The woman was aghast and asked if our daughter were sick (or abnormal, perhaps).  We drove home right away -- we needed the entire 10 minute car ride to calm her down, and we kept our daughter with us in the pew among the other choir members for a few more years.

Eventually our daughter would be diagnosed with Mild Autism, and she was enrolled in the public school's preschool for children with developmental disorders.  Sunday school was difficult -- the church had no professionals to provide therapy or support.  The teachers were mostly parents or grandparents of "normal" children.  So my wife and I would attend the earlier grades of Sunday school with our daughter until she settled down.  But she never really "took" to it -- she formed no connections with the other children.  This continued into her teenage years and the Youth Group.

What she did connect with was the choir.  Unfortunately there was no children's choir at the time.  It wasn't formed until after our daughter was a bit older and after the idea about singing in a choir was no longer fresh and interesting.  Still, she gave it a go.  But with her extremely well-tuned ear for pitch and her sensitivity to tonal quality, she was disappointed with the other children and lost interest.

In the Lutheran Church, children wait until they enter grade 5 to receive their First Holy Communion.  And then they get confirmed even later.  I sincerely thought she'd drop out before getting confirmed.  The more she "learned" about Christianity, the less sense it made to her.  Fortunately the assistant Pastor made some accommodation for her, and she squeaked by.  And then she announced that she was Pagan and left.

I continued to attend the services as a choir member.  But it bothered my wife.  She didn't want to sit in the back with me and the other choir members, and she didn't want to sit alone in the regular seats.  So I stopped wearing the choir robe and sat with her in the regular seats, joining the choir only when necessary.

After eight years was getting tired of the weekly rehearsals and the getting up early on Sunday.  I had planned to announce my retirement from the group.  But the choir director beat me to the punch -- one evening she announced her retirement.  So I remained quiet about my own desire to leave.  It took one full season for the church to find a replacement, so I stayed on in support of the interim choir director.  I was the strongest bass we had.  I wasn't necessarily the best singer, but I could sight-singing and learned the parts quickly, even the tenor and alto lines, too, to help folks with their parts.

When the cat died, the emotional impact of singing was nearly too great for me.  Leaving my sad wife and daughter at home twice each week was an additional burden.  Plus my wife had been hospitalized two years earlier for four weeks and left with chronic pain and fatigue.  I stuck it out for another three months and then abruptly failed to show up for the first rehearsal of the next season.  When they called, my wife said simply, "He quit."  I stopped going to church for several weeks and didn't even speak with anyone until a couple of months later when I'd accidentally bump into a choir member.

We would attend some services, such as Good Friday (my wife's favorite) and Christmas Eve.  These days, getting out of the house by 9:30am five day each week in time for work is challenging for me.  It takes me four hours every morning to get myself ready, feed the four cats and dog, get my daughter ready for school, attend to my wife's needs.  So I like having the weekend with no morning obligations, church included.  And frankly, I've always considered prayer a solitary endeavor, so I never feel the need to be a part of a congregation.

Recently my wife became reacquainted with her Reiki instructor.  It turned out that the instructor was a practicing Buddhist.  We were invited to attend some meetings / sessions / whatevers.  So my wife decided to join them.  She and my daughter are now official Buddhists.

And me?  I really don't know.  I need to strip away all the brainwashing that I received and then figure out what make sense to me.  Most followers of the major religions in our world could be considered psychotic.  Do you think not?  Then read this: "I believe if I say certain words at a certain time each week, that life will be easier for me and my loved ones, and it will bring about World Peace.  And best of all, when I die, I won't actually die -- I'll go to a special, wonderful place."  That's some really crazy sheet.

Sorry about all that content, Pope Francis.  I do hope you enjoy your stay here.

The High Cost of Vegan Cheese

My daughter has been vegan for about four years.  Vegans follow an even more limited diet than vegetarians.  The most devout ones don't eat anything produced by an animal or from an animal.  That includes eggs, all dairy, and even honey.

My daughter is devout.  But rather than give up mayonnaise, butter and cheese, she eats vegan-friendly versions instead.

My wife complains about the high cost of these vegan-friendly substitutes almost every week.  And she goes over-budget buying them.  But I tell my wife that if our daughter craves cheese and butter so much, it means her body is crying out for real, honest-to-goodness dairy.  As I wrote earlier, I don't fully endorse our daughter being vegan.

I say that we should buy absolutely no substitutes.  Instead we can buy eggs and dairy from producers that treat their livestock with care and respect, a major concern of vegans.  And I suspect that dairy produced the old-fashioned way is friendlier for the environment than the spreads made from vegetable oils or the cheeses made from cashews.  I believe that such substitutes require much more energy to produce because their raw ingredients are so thoroughly processed as to make them unrecognizable.

Some vegans will argue that there's a health issue with dairy.  They complain that it's loaded with saturated fat, which is bad.  I reject that entirely.  Saturated fat has been unfairly demonized.  The fat from pasture-raised, grass-fed cattle has a ratio of Omega3 to Omega6 that's comparable salmon, plus CLA (conjugated linoleic acids) and butyrates, both of which are important for good gut health.  The heart and brain both use saturated fat as fuel.

It's true that some people just can't tolerate dairy.  It can promote inflammation and mucus production.  Some people are lactose intolerant.  Others must avoid casein.  It's the casein in dairy that can mimic opioids in the brain in individuals with leaky gut syndrome.  So these intolerances are really the only good reasons to avoid dairy.

Well, even if our daughter agreed to eat real butter and cheese, our cost would still be fairly high.  Organic dairy from humanely-treated, grass-fed cows is not inexpensive.  But at least it's real and wholesome.

What do you think?

A Farewell to Doorbells and Knockers

Do you remember how when everyone started to use a cellphone, telephone booths gradually faded out of existence?  Will the same happen to doorbells and knockers?

Consider how people call or text when they arrive at their destinations: "im here where r u"  Why bother to ring a doorbell or knock?

A few weeks ago I arrived at my daughter's friend's house to pick her up.  She was at a gathering that wasn't going well and needed a ride home while the party was still in full swing.  I could see a few kids through a gap in the blinds.  I don't have a cellphone^*, so I rang the doorbell.  Nothing.  I knocked on the screen door.  Still nothing.  I knocked on the door frame.  Nothing yet again.  I Knocked Really Hard on the Door Frame.  Finally, I got a head to turn in my direction.

Fortunately they had been viewing a movie on a dinky little laptop.  What if they had been watching on a home theater system with surround sound?  I'd've had to knock on a neighbor's door and ask to use the phone.  Or drive right up to the front door, honk the horn and flash the lights.  Or forcibly enter and search among the hooded bodies until I found one that resembled my daughter.

This homeowner's doorbell stopped working.  Will she ever notice?  Will she ever get it fixed?  Why bother? It's obsolete.  Besides, the only people who use the doorbell now are strangers: Trick or Treaters, door-to-door salesmen, Jehovah's Witnesses.  You're better off not answering.

When was the last time you used a doorbell?

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^* My brother doesn't have a cellphone, either. But at least I check Facebook once a month or so.

Staycation Planning

My employer shuts down its production line for two weeks every summer.  Ordinarily I continue to do my design work during this time, and I sell back my unused vacation time. The money I get from unused vacation helps pay semiannual bills such as home, auto and life insurance.  Besides I don't have air conditioning at home, so I prefer to work in the office during this hot and humid period. Finally, it's quiet at work during "shutdown," so I can concentrate on my most difficult work assignments without worrying about interruptions.

Unfortunately this year my boss insisted that I take my vacation during shutdown.  Taking a trip somewhere is out-of-the-question.  First, there's the cost.  Second, our daughter is signed up for a day camp during the shutdown.  Third, the animals will need pet sitters, which will cost additional money.  So I've decided on a Staycation.  I'm in the midst of thinking of activities that could bring in the lost income, or at least DIY projects that I can tackle to avoid paying someone else to do them.  The second class of activity would also include taking classes that could lead to better job opportunities.

So here's what I've come up with...

1. Get a job consulting.  This would be ideal, especially if I can charge at least as much as my gross full time salary, and perform the work in the cool comfort of the client's office.  But it's unlikely that I could find the right client(s) with a simple-enough assignment that could be completed in two weeks.
2. Home maintenance and repair.  Merely getting someone like a plumber to enter your home and tell you that you need a new washer for the faucet used to cost over $100 fifteen years ago.  By now I imagine it's much more, and the transaction might even require an attorney to act as a fiduciary.  So one can save a huge amount of money with "DIY" if one knows how.  Here are the projects I have in mind:
1. Interior painting, walls & ceilings, especially the bathroom ceiling.  (But if it's too hot and humid, it shouldn't be done.)
2. Roof repair.  I have some shingles that are starting to curl, and nails have popped up in a few spots.  I would hammer down the nails, staking them with RTV.  But how crazy do you have to be to go onto a black asphalt roof in Summer?  I think the soles of my sneakers would melt!
3. Repair / replace the car speaker.  One of the rear speakers in my car is buzzing quite loudly, and I think it's blown.  I'm hoping I can just patch it with special glue and cardboard.  If not, I might just disconnect it.  Right now, I have the fader adjusted so that only the front speakers play, and the system sounds weak.  Having just one rear speaker playing would be better than neither one playing.
4. Gardening / Landscaping.
1. We pay to have our lawn mowed each week.  If I were to buy and use a cheap push mower just for the smaller front yard, I might get the guys to  skip our place every other week, and I'd get some exercise.
2. Growing our own vegetables would save us from buying them.
3. Install a drip irrigation system for the vegetable garden.  One reason the vegetables haven't been planted yet is because I don't think I'll be able to water them.  So I don't want to spend time and effort to produce dead vegetables.  A drip irrigation system would make it easy to water the garden, so I'd be more willing to plant it.
4. The shrubs are blocking the entrance to our home, so they need pruning for good Feng Shui.
5. I'm guessing there might be a law against this: Grow and sell tobacco.  Tobacco is in high demand and would grow well here.  I don't smoke, but if I could sell it legally, it would be a most lucrative crop.  Selling stuff on which the state imposes a "sin tax" and prohibits minors from buying, probably is not legal.
6. Install rain barrels.  These are essentially 55 gallon drums that you position under the downspouts of the home's gutter system in order to collect the water for later use.  Right now we use our well water for watering the garden, and the cost is the electricity that's needed to run the well pump.
3. Buy groceries that are incorrectly priced specifically in order to take advantage of Connecticut's "Get One Free Law".  I always pay attention to the prices that appear when the cashier scans our items.  I've gotten a few things for free.  The latest was a 12oz bag of gourmet, ground Arabica coffee.  Of course I don't know beforehand whether the scanner will proffer the incorrect price, so this is more miss than hit.  Still, I once saw a one-pound package of butter that was obviously mis-marked.  The price was $3.98 but the unit price was only $1.98 per pound.  So I pounced on it like a seasoned flea market shopper on a genuine Tiffany lamp. When I was charged the $3.98, I complained that it should be only $1.98, according to the unit price, and I did get it for free.
4. Volunteer.  Well, this won't offset the loss of vacation income, but it might get me into an air conditioned environment.  And according to the Dalai Lama, the path to true happiness is through service to others, so it will bring me happiness.  A really cool idea would be a "VolunteerCation" in which you take a vacation (or sabbatical) in order to travel to some place where volunteers are needed.  I'm not sure, but I'm guessing travel expenses may be tax deductible under such an arrangement.  If you can get an organization to transport you somewhere, that would be even better.
5. Hang out at the local Maker Space.  Nothing's guaranteed with this idea.  But I imagine if I went to the Maker Space, I might meet some interesting artists, craftspersons or inventors and learn something by watching them.  I might even offer my own expertise to them or collaborate on something with them.  And I'm pretty sure the place is air conditioned. 
6. Hype my affiliates' products.  In particular, the Blood Type Diet products and the iHerb referral code bring in "coffee money."  But I don't advertise very much.
7. Hype my online storage accounts.  For example..
1. Join Dropbox for free using this link, and we'll both receive an additional 500MB of storage space.
2. Join Copy for free using this link, and we'll both receive an additional 5GB of storage space.
3. Join Box....  Well, you can join, but I don't use it, and I forgot my login credentials, so I can't promote it right now.
8. Cat Dentistry.  The plaque build-up on our first cat's teeth makes it seem as though barnacles live along his gums.  The vet quoted us a cost of over $300 to have his (the cat's) teeth cleaned.  The vet's procedure would involve putting the cat under anesthesia, a lot of stress, and possible exposure to an infectious organism.  Would I actually attempt to clean the cat's teeth myself?  Yes.  And it's not as far-fetched as it seems.  Of course, I wouldn't be fooling around with anesthesia.  But the cat sleeps so soundly that I can poke my fingers into and around his mouth without bothering him.  Nor do I plan to use any kind of abrasive or motorized tool.  I might not need to.  One day, I actually used my fingernail to pick a barnacle off his teeth.
9. Learn stuff.  How to write Android Apps, Working with Linux, Programming with Ruby are all great topics for career growth.
10. Get all my medical checkups done.  The eye doctor, dentist, primary care physician (PCP) and Naturopathic Doctor are all overdo for a visit.  Those visits would take place in an air conditioned environment, but at the expense of a few co-pays.
11. Cat Photo Exhibit.  This falls under the category of volunteering because the Cat Photo Exhibit would promote our favorite cat shelter.  If I were to sell any framed photos, I'd forward the proceeds to the shelter.  So I wouldn't made any profits, but I could recoup the expense of the frames I already bought.  The only additional expense would be to have the 8 x 10 prints made and perhaps business cards printed.
12. Write really clever blog posts, provide a PayPal Donate Button, and watch the money pour in!  (I can't belief I managed to write that with a straight face.)  No, but seriously folks, I don't want to subject you to a "Beg Button."

It will be fun to review my Staycation Activities in a subsequent post.  Stay tuned!  In the meantime, do you have any suggestions about what I should do on my staycation?

How I've Lived With Skin Picking Disorder

I've lived with Skin Picking Disorder probably for about 45 years.  It started when I was a young boy.

It would start out as a callous on the knuckle of the index finger of my left hand.  This callous would develop from a soft toy doll that I'd sleep with.  Even though the doll was soft, it had a dense seam that I enjoyed grinding my knuckle into.  Then I'd pick at and bite the callous.  Or I'd stick a pencil, pin or nail into it.  It would hurt.  It would bleed.  But I liked doing it.

Back then I was very ashamed of letting anyone see the knuckle, especially my mother.  I made sure to keep it hidden.  If I had to point, I'd use my right hand, or I point with my pinky while I kept the knuckle tucked under my thumb.

I don't have the doll anymore, but I still go through spells in which I form the callous using the inside seam of blue jeans as I sit at my computer.  I am no longer ashamed, though.  First, no one but my daughter calls attention to it.  Second, it's just what I call "Nerves," or a manifestation of anxiety from having a partly disabled wife; a gifted, eccentric daughter with massive inferiority beliefs; and a dwindling bank account due to expenses that exceed my income.

Eventually, I'll wrap a bandage around it to prevent myself from picking and biting, and it will look normal.

Here is "Nerves" for you to see:

Skin Picking Disorder -- Left Index Finger

A Santa Non-Believer

I have never believed in Santa.  I cannot remember a time when I ever believed in him.

When I was five years old, I was shrewd enough to realize that Mom wrapped all the presents.

First of all, she liked to save the wrapping paper and reuse it for next year.

Second, she bought and wrapped the gifts well ahead of time.  And then she stored them on a shelf near the ironing board, covered with a sheet.  The fact that the ironing board was in a scary part of the basement, near the smelly and grumbling furnace, did not deter me.

 There was also the fact that we had no fireplace.

As well, the top of the chimney was tiny.  And the bottom, well, that terminated above the furnace, ending up as an eight inch diameter metal flue with a metal flap over it.  There was no way that Santa could enter our house except through the door.


Supposedly, Santa would come to everyone's house at exactly midnight, at which time he'd fill stockings with trinkets, arrange the presents under the tree, and snack on cookies in milk (although we never left any for him).  Please, what am I, stupid?


My parents would allude to Santa, mostly as a form of coercion.  For example:

• "You'd better behave if you want Santa to bring you anything."
• "Santa doesn't bring presents to children who don't eat their vegetables."
• "Hurry and go to bed, otherwise Santa won't come and bring your presents!"

That's what they'd say.  But what I'd hear was basically, "Do what we tell you to do, otherwise we won't give you anything."  And I'd comply, because I wanted toys.


The funny thing is my wife and I brainwashed our daughter about Santa.  I was very detailed about it, too.  We have a fireplace with glass doors, so before our daughter went to bed, I'd say out loud, "I'm opening the fireplace doors so that Santa can come in."  And later on I'd make footprints on the hearth with the ashes so that she'd see them in the morning.  I think one year I even went on the roof and disturbed the snow near the chimney to make it look like someone was up there.  Still, she now claims that she figured it out when she was ten.

Tell me about your Santa beliefs.

Children With Empty Minds

A few years ago there was a blogger who called herself Azalea Faye, who just gave birth to a girl.  She was one of about 10 million mommy bloggers.

In one post¹ she railed against Disney, vowing that she'd never let her daughter be exposed to the gaggle of Disney princesses.  The gist of it was that she wanted her daughter's mind to be empty rather than filled with ridiculous fairy tales.  I was intrigued by this idea.  My daughter was already five years old or so, and I wondered what she'd be like if her mind were empty.  And I was glad it wasn't.

Classic Disney movies such as "Cinderella" and "Snow White" expose children to many advanced themes such as jealousy and unfairness, providing a foundation for understanding moral issues.  They teach children patience and honesty.  The settings inspire wonder in the child, and the issues tend to be black and white, which make the stories better suited for a child's developmental level.

Unfortunately, that post, and the blog it was featured on, is no longer available.  But I wonder how that girl is faring.  By now she must've entered elementary school, and she's probably hearing about Disney princesses from her friends.  Or is she having trouble making friends, because she has less in common with the typical girl than her peers?

What do you think about Disney princesses?  What should you fill a child's mind with?

---

¹ "Disney and My Opinion" whose URL once was http://azaleafaye.wordpress.com/2009/08/31/disney-and-my-opinion/

Panic of the Parent of the Soon-To-Be Fledgling

What do you call the shock that new parents experience when they realize their son or daughter will be moving away to college in less than three years?  Perhaps the term could be "Panic of the Parent of the Soon-To-Be Fledgling."  Hmmm, that's unwieldy.

Whatever it's called, that's what I got.  It's like you're hiking briskly on an easy trail, and then you look back and notice zombies lumbering along behind you, in relentless pursuit.  You suddenly turn a corner and see a steep, daunting, rocky ascent.  The weather turns cold, and dark storm clouds devour the sun.  And you suddenly realize that you didn't pack rain gear or a hearty snack.

This particular type of panic, of some fearful thing that looms in the future, is ideal for getting my heart racing -- much better than a jolt of "red-eye" coffee.  I can rouse myself out of bed with it in the morning to kick-start the day.

The panic started suddenly over the weekend while we attended our very first college fair with our grade ten daughter.  We joked with her to tell the representatives of far off colleges that the primary reason she's interested in their school is because she wants to move as far away as possible from her parents.

Usually panic arises when one is unprepared.  That's true in this case, too.  We haven't prepared our daughter to be self-sufficient.  We have about two-and-a-half years to encourage our daughter to:

• Shop for her own groceries, supplies and toiletries.
• Manage her own bank account and finances.
• Do her own laundry.
• Remind her about appointments.
• Eat and drink and take supplements on a fixed schedule.
• Get herself ready for the day.

On top of that, I'm the one she turns to for night-before-the-big-scary-test help sessions in math and science.

But the worst part is we haven't put any money into a college savings account.  I've put any extra money into the 401(k) plan that my employer manages.  We also didn't count on my wife becoming partly disabled, so not only does my wife not earn money, we spend money on her multiple doctors and medication.

Well, that's the good thing about panic -- it gives you the energy to prepare.  And if my wife and I are clever about it, we'll have our daughter soon doing the laundry.

Distractions in my Day-to-Day Routine

[Written two and a half years ago for a course on Concentration]

For this assignment, take stock of your day to day routine. In doing so, jot down what your routine is on most days. Then think about what type of distractions you often encounter. Write your list of distractions and come up with ways that you can try to address them. Submit your list and of distractions and possible ways you can address them to the instructor.

My typical week day involves getting ready for work at home, driving to work, working, driving back home, ending the day at home.

When I'm at home, I'm distracted by

1. The needs of my wife and daughter. Even if they don't interrupt, I expect them to, so I don't get deeply involved in any activity until they're out of the house or in bed. I get our daughter ready to school. Even though she's a teenager, I want to be involved. Otherwise she'll probably make herself a breakfast of three Hershey Kisses and go out into 30F weather wearing just a flimsy sweatshirt and jeans. I can make my own breakfast while making something for our daughter. I can find out if things are going well for her at school during breakfast or while waiting with her at the bus stop.
2. The cuteness of our pets (or the damage they do). I'm either fawning over our cats, or cleaning up after them. Sometimes I take a quick break to pet one of them. Or I protect my meal from the fat one who's always hungry. Once in a while I'll take out the camera to take a picture, even if it will make me late for work. When I take the dog outside, he wants to play outside for a while. When I'm outside with the dog, I can let him roll around on the ground while I pick up branches from the lawn or get the newspaper. I want him to be happy. He's a good dog, and he's getting old, so I'm willing to spend time with him. I can keep the hungry cat away from our meals by spraying him with a water bottle. I do some pet photography as a hobby, and this year's Christmas card resulted from taking a picture of a cat that posed under the tree. So even though I'm distracted, I can make something good come from it.
3. Things that are out-of-place and need picking up or straightening. I'll walk from the bathroom to the kitchen and notice a candy wrapper on the living room floor. Or I'll go into the laundry room (which doubles as an overflow pantry) to get more tea and notice that the clothes need to be transferred into the dryer. So I'll do that and forget about the tea. I'm trying to condition our daughter to pick up things that are out-of-place. When I do notice a chore that needs completing, I can ignore it if it's not an emergency.
4. A news story on the radio. I can't seem to listen to the radio while doing something. So if there's something I want to hear, I usually stop what I'm doing to listen. I can turn the radio on just for the five minutes of important news I need and then turn it off when it's over. I don't need to listen to the banter and trivia.
5. Thoughts. I always have an inner dialog (or music) going on in my head. I'm meditating more and trying to stay mindful.

While driving, I can be distracted by

1. Scenery. I love nature and photography, and I drive through a rural area alongside a river. I can drive slowly when there isn't much traffic and still take in some scenery.
2. Radio. Since I'm a visual thinker, it can be dangerous for me to listen to music or talk radio while driving in heavy traffic. I can drive slowly when there isn't much traffic and enjoy the radio. When driving in traffic or on unfamiliar roads, I turn off the radio.
3. Passengers. This is the same as having the radio on. But I can't turn them off. I don't respond to passengers when driving in traffic or on unfamiliar roads.
4. Thoughts (particularly what I have planned for the day). Again, I drive slowly. But I find that the process of driving a normal speed keeps me from thinking, and I focus better on driving.

At work, distractions include:

1. E-mail. I tend to keep the e-mail client open and check it whenever I get a new message notification. When I need to focus, I do close the e-mail client.
2. Phone calls. When I really need to focus, I unplug the phone. Activating the "Do Not Disturb" function doesn't help -- it still beeps to indicate that someone is trying to call.
3. In-person interruptions. I'm one of those folks that seems to know a lot about everything, so when a "new guy" is stymied, he'll come to me. I can ask him to come back later, or promise that I'll get back to him within 15 minutes, which can give me enough time to reach a good breaking point in my work. Sometimes just a look of intensity can dissuade someone from interrupting. This does not work for the boss, though.
4. Noisy co-workers. The guy next to me not only talks loud on the phone, but he uses speaker phone, too. Earplugs, headphones?
5. "What if" thoughts (work related). The work I do often involves solving problems. Sometimes I'll come up with an idea for a problem that I'm not currently working on. Or I'll learn about a new tool that might be helpful later. Rather than stop my current task to explore the new idea or tool, I'll use my new capture tool to record a brief note about the thought and then return to my task.
6. Thoughts (not related to work). There's a lot going on in my personal life: family & pet issues, volunteer activities, car and home maintenance, finances. I can use the capture tool to record notes about these thoughts, too, so that I can let go of them more easily.
7. Muscle stiffness and other physical discomfort. Some days I just can't seem to sit because my legs ache. Also, I've found if I don't eat well, I'll feel gnawing hunger pains or experience dizziness. If I eat too much or the wrong foods, I can feel bloated or foggy. I can stick to my diet and avoid empty foods or those that I can't tolerate. I can get plenty of sleep the night before and take breaks to walk and drink water. I can do office yoga.

How to Become Euphoric

Do you want to experience a sense of euphoria¹?  Here's how you do it.

Help someone.

Find someone who's struggling and help him or her.

Last night, I experienced euphoria.  I was picking up my daughter from school.  One of the other moms was stuck.  She couldn't start her car -- the battery was weak.  I drove over, hooked up my jumper cables, and gave her a boost.  Also I popped open the battery filler ports and showed her that the water was low.  The woman I helped was my daughter's friend's mom, too.

She was so grateful, and so was my daughter.  But I am even more grateful for the opportunity to make a real difference in someone's life.  And I get another topic for my blog.

How do you become euphoric?

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¹ Euphoria would be a good name for a rock band. In fact, it is the name of a rock band!

Like a Hoo Ha on my Face

"All I have left to do is shave," I announced, crossing the penultimate item off my Thanksgiving to-do list.

"Dad, you should totally grow your beard," my teenage daughter impored, not for the first time.

"Not today.  But I'll let it grow on my week off between Christmas and New Years."

"Don't do that.  It looks disgusting," my wife chimed in, with a little too much emphasis on "disgusting."

"Dad, men with beards look totally sexy," my daughter insisted.

I sighed and tried a different way of explaining to her why a beard isn't good for me.  "Did you ever look at your Hoo Ha in the mirror?" I asked her.

"Dad, use the proper term."

"Va-J-J," my wife corrected me.

"Okay.  Pubic hair.  That's what my beard looks like.  It's like I have a Hoo Ha on my face.  It's just not good."

"I don't know why you guys can't use the proper words for things.  You say 'pee-pee' and 'Va-J-J' and 'Hoo Ha.'  That's not what they're called.  They're called Penis and Va..."

"Because we don't like the proper names.  They're disgusting," my wife interrupted firmly, while I wondered whether there's a test they could give our daughter for Tourette's.

"Well, I'm off to shave!"  I announced cheerily.  I hurried off to the bathroom to shave in peace, thankful for a valid excuse to escape.

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Thanks to Ron Mattocks, blogger at Clark Kent's Lunchbox for his inspiring "Hoo Ha" story.

The Long-Term Benefits of High School English

At our daughter's Open House, the English teacher presented us parents with an Assignment: What was your favorite poem, short story, book from high shcool English?  Describe how English helped you in real life.

(Can you imagine a similar assignment from an algebra teacher -- how much bullshit that would have generated?)

We were limited to only ten minutes, and I had to listen to the teacher's open house spiel while thinking and writing, and I had to wait for a pencil to become available.  At first I couldn't even remember anything that I read in High School -- I'm such an avid reader on my own I wasn't sure if anything noteworthy was assigned by a teacher.

So I wrote simply that I built a large vocabulary, and that I learned the difference between "affect" and "effect" and "lay" and "lie."

Then I remembered having to present William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheelbarrow," so I mentioned that.  And then I remembered more.  I remembered reading Grendel, which was wonderful.  So I mentioned that.  I also wrote that my 12th grade English teacher was an actual  comedian who would perform at comedy clubs in the evenings.

Ultimately, I had trouble ascribing any benefits to the English I studied in High School.  I feel that it was my natural inclinations toward writing and reading that built my vocabulary and established my (above average among engineers) facility with writing.

Did the subject of High School English benefit you at all?  Did any subject?  How?

Veganism -- A Sanctioned Eating Disorder

As the father of a teenage girl, I try to be informed and stay alert to signs of an eating disorder, especially now that our daughter has become Vegan.  She used to love bacon, lamb, London Broil and liver pate not too long ago.  And goat cheese.

Then the "fish incident" raised a red flag that something was wrong.  She started to negotiate ever smaller portions of fish, her least-favorite animal-based food.  Just before formally announcing her vegan diet, she'd typically feed half to the cats and dog and re-arrange the rest.  Her last plate of fish -- the fish incident -- caused a genuine fit of crying about the pain of the fish.

That's when I blocked peta.org from the computer.

But it wasn't until my daughter described the ever dwindling diet of her school friend KG that it occurred to me that veganism is used to disguise an eating disorder.

KG was a vegan before our daughter; she probably convinced our daughter to convert to this way of eating.  Recently, she announced her new way of even healthier eating: vegan, low-fat, without grains and legumes.  It sounded as though the girl decided to adopt the Paleo diet and yet remain vegan.

The idea that veganism is an eating disorder is certainly not new.  Do an Internet search and find many discussions on the topic.  Here's a link to get you started..  Veganism can be one of many manifestations of Orthorexia, an eating disorder where the individual refuses to eat foods perceived to be unhealthy.

I am somewhat comforted that our daughter follows the vegan lifestyle, not just the diet.  She will not buy any products made from animals or that were tested on animals.  For example, she refused to use a set of paints and paint brushes that I bought her before she went vegan.  Instead she talked my wife into buying a second "vegan" set.  It drives me crazy, but I'm still comforted to know that this compulsion is not focused solely on diet.

Good Parenting Leads to Good Driving

In my previous post on Road Rage, I described how the thought of my own daughter driving (or one of her friends) made it less likely I'd be reacting to other drivers' annoyances.

The thought of my own daughter driving leads me to another form of behavior modification.  I now feel the need to set a good example.  I'm less likely to coast through stop signs, run red lights or grossly exceed the speed limit lately.  And that's not even when she's in the car, peering at the speedometer.  This good driving malaise sets in whenever I see a car marked "Student Driver," or a young driver, or even a driver that makes an actual full stop at a stop sign (a rare occurrence in Connecticut).

I wonder if my auto insurance company considers this?

Road Rage Innoculator

Those of us who drive have encountered drivers who cut us off, drive slower than we'd like, drive faster than we'd like, follow behind us too closely, and (generally-speaking) annoy us.

It's tempting to honk, shout and make hand gestures at them.

But many years ago, it occurred to me that I don't know who that person is whom I'm gesturing at.  What if it's a friend of mine, or my Mother-in-Law, or the Pastor at our church?

Then I expanded that list to include elderly folks and those who are disabled or are on pain medication.  How can you rant at someone whom you feel sorry for?  Besides, would you really want someone who's taking an opioid to be going as fast as the rest of us?

This morning I realized I'm allowing for another class of drivers -- teenagers.  This comes from being the parent of a teenager.  That annoying driver could (one day) be my own daughter or one of her friends.  Would you give the finger to your own daughter?

Then the epiphany landed on me.  Everyone is someone's daughter (or son).  I should rant at no one.

So that leaves me with only one outlet -- traffic lights.  Yes, when the light turns red right in front of me, and I'm alone in the car, I give it the Finger below the dashboard, where only I know about it.

Cat Number Four

My Mother-in-Law had been feeding the cats in her backyard for several months. One of her customers took residence under her porch and produced two kittens. The little Tom was killed when he tried the cross the busy road. So my mother-in-law allowed the little Queen to live inside her enclosed porch. But the porch is unheated, and she couldn't keep the kitten in the main part of the house. So she implored her daughter and granddaughter to adopt her.

My wife drove the cat home three weeks ago. By now we have an established procedure for adopting a new cat. (You can't just let loose a new cat into a home with an established cat population. The existing cat will threaten and possibly attack the newcomer.) We placed the new cat in the laundry room with her own food and water bowls and litterbox. It's not a large area, but it turned out to have a few great spots for hiding. My wife repeatedly asked me to "find" the cat because she (my wife) worried that the cat disappeared. So twice I dragged the cat from remote corners of the laundry room.

Then my wife decided to let the cat into a more comfortable area -- the carpeted part of the basement. Overnight, the cat again "disappeared," but there was a clue as to where she went -- the broken overhead light diffuser indicated that she had gotten into the drop ceiling where she spent the entire next day.

When I got home that night, both my wife and daughter were peering into the drop ceiling trying to locate the cat. They finally lured it out into an open area of the ceiling, so that I was able to remove tiles one-by-one to try to catch it. Eventually the only remaining tile was the one she was sitting on, but she managed to scoot away. At least my daughter saw the direction that the cat took off in, and I located the hiding spot. Finally, I grabbed the cat and dragged it from its spot.

I was very impressed by the cat's good behavior. No, not the shyness and aversion to us moving, living, breathing animals. But it tolerated all my somewhat manly handling without much protest, even though it was clearly terrified.

The cat is now upstairs with us in the Master bedroom and hides under the bed or in the closet. But it does sleep on a small afghan on the floor when we're not around and even cavorts playfully after we go to bed. She will not go on the bed unless my wife picks her up and places her there. Then she will stay for as long as she's being petted or brushed, and then toddles off to her hiding spot.

I don't like to use the flash when photographing cats, but I did in this case. Here she is, peering out at me from under the bed, more fur than flesh:

End of School -- Start of Summer

Today is the start of Summer in the Northern Hemisphere. And it's also the last day of school for our daughter.

She had trouble with math this year. She was supposed to be placed in the advanced math program, but someone messed up, and she was put in the regular math program. After a few days, things got straightened out, and she got put into the advanced class, but by then she was already behind. And each few days that she was out sick, she fell behind more.

We decided to have her take the regular math program next year. Half of the material will be review for her. I want to make sure she gains math skill over the summer or at least not lose anything. So I've decided to give her Daily Math Problems, which, if she solves them correctly, will get her excused from scooping out the four litter boxes.

The first problem is to identify the quadratic expressions (from a group of ten) that factor into squares like this:

(x + a)(x + a)

She's actually pretty good at factoring since it's algorithmic. But the trick here is to do it efficiently. I want her to realize that she doesn't have to factor all ten expressions. Instead, she should realize that only the expressions with a constant a * a need to be tested.

Blind Color Sensing with Feng Shui

My daughter was trying to decide what color we should paint her room. We embarked on a strange method based on our limited or faulty understanding of Feng Shui.

Somehow we determined that her element is Fire and that Red would give her energy. She also remarked that my element is Water and that Blue would give me energy. We also figured that Fire and Water are antagonists -- that which is good for Fire is bad for Water, and vice-versa. This isn't entirely correct, but it's what led to the experiment that I shall describe next.

We happened to have paint chips in a variety of blue and pink. So I reasoned that if Blue was good for me and Red was bad for me, I should be able to tell them apart with my eyes closed just by feeling them. I already had a pink chip, so I handed it back to my daughter and asked her to pick a blue chip, and then hand them both to me.

I closed my eyes and took the two chips. I could tell the pink chip from the blue right away. But I cheated. First, the pink chip featured four sections in different shades of pink, and the blue chip had six. I could feel the transitions between those sections, so I could tell which was the pink. As well, we had been handling the pink chip, so it developed a gentle bend, whereas the blue chip was perfectly flat. That was another way I could tell them apart. But I also noticed something very subtle -- something that occurs when I eat foods that are borderline "avoids" on my diet. I sensed a foggy-achiness in a part of my head when I handled the pink chip. And I felt some clarity when I handled the blue chip.

My daughter was impressed that I identified the chips correctly. I didn't tell her about my cheating right way. But after she tried the test herself and identified incorrectly, she had a laughing-crying spell, so I told her then. And besides, I had a 1 in 2 chance of guessing correctly.

Actually, she refused to try to guess, initially. I pressured her to try, and she eventually gave in. I think she might've released some pent up emotion by tapping into some inner part of her unexplored self.

She wanted me to guess again. This time she selected two new chips that I hadn't seen or handled before, both with the same number of color sections. I got rid of the pink place mat that was in front of me and I took off my burgundy sweatshirt. (But then I was left with blue T-shirt and pants.) Then I closed my eyes and took them from her. I handled one. I didn't sense anything from it. I put it down and took the other. I didn't sense anything from that one either. I put it back down and picked up the first. I shifted it to my left hand, and then I got that foggy-achiness sensation again. I held it up and said, "This is the pink chip." And I was right. Cool. Still, picking 1 of 2 choices correctly twice in a row can be done 25% of the time just by guessing randomly.

I wanted to check the Feng Shui table of elements and favorable directions, so we went online. I verified mine. But when checking my daughter's element, we got Earth from a table on one site, and Wood from another site! And then we realized that Metal supports Water while Wood destroys it. So we figured that Black (for Water) and Gray (for Metal) are favorable colors for me. And the Black cat is my favorite and likes me best. We also figured that my daughter is Earth based on her cat choices. She is attracted to the orange cat (Red/Fire creates ash that feeds Earth), and the gray tabby is attracted to her (the Gray Metal comes from Earth).

It turns out that Pink is the color for Earth anyway, so that's what we decided to paint her room. It just so happens that her room is already pink, but it wasn't painted well. The painter put two coats on the wall, but he didn't let it dry between coats, so the yellow that was there before seems to bleed through a little. So it needs to be repainted, and I can probably do just one coat this time.

Anyway, I wonder, did I really sense the difference between a favorable color and an antagonistic color? Let me know if you try this for yourself and what result you get.

Make People Think You're Normal

Although I bought "How to Make People Think You're Normal" over one year ago, I didn't give it to my daughter until today. She thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I don't think she appreciated some of the ideas. For example, there's the chapter devoted to the author's perspective as a teacher and his veiled rants against the pressures to give out A grades to all his students.

OTOH, there's plenty of sophomoric humor, too.

Anyway, I hope you had a great day!