"Walker Time" - May 26

Today, Walker rode Charlie around in the Taga again. So glad he loves doing it!

I also taught Walker to use the ride-on lawnmower and he took to it well. He was very careful and, while he left a few tufts here and there, he did a generally good job his first time around!

Walker also “went on a run” to the grocery store and returned with carrots!

Additionally, Walker transcribed a funny monologue using youtube and my computer and is working on delivering it - he already has it mostly memorized - ah a young brain. In the course of that, I snuck in a fwe passages from Mary Norris’ book “Between You & Me” - the “Spelling is for Weirdos” chapter!

"Walker Time" - May 25

Today, Walker discovered riding Charlie in his bike and took him on multiple small forays into town. We took video and posted it to facebook - lots of “likes”. One of the trips took both boys and I to the Main Place, where we had a chance to get some lunch and see Sydney briefly. A tentative plan to see she and Drew (and fam) sometime this weekend was formed.

I went upstairs around 10:30am and caught him while he was working on LEGO’s. I read more of “What If” to him around the question of “If I time traveled to Times Square 1000 years ago, what would it be like?” The answer was wonderful, centering on the flora, fauna and natives of the area and it sent us to a webpage, https://welikia.org/, which showed us a map and representation of Manhattan with trees on it! This led to a comparison of present day Manhattan in google maps and lots of discussion (and potential discussion) of colonization / civilization / deforestation / urban life etc.

Walker also rode the taga bike solo into town to redeem cans and came back with 80 cents and another ride under his belt.

Later, I tried to engage Walker in a game of Sequence by starting it. No dice. Try again later.

"Morning Basket" - May 24, 2019

Today, Walker and I read several passages from “What If? - Serious Scientific Answers to Absurd Hypothetical Questions” by Randall Munroe.

I tempted him with hot chocolate and told him about my plan for morning reading. He initially declined but, as if by magic, when I had the kindle app open to the book and began to talk about what I had been reading, he began to read it to me while I completed the hot chocolate.

Based on some of the questions in the book, we began to have a talk about space flight, the Apollo program, the velocity one needs to escape the earth, the distance from here to space, the difficulty of staying in orbit - and the speed it takes to stay there. (And I clocked a way into higher mathematics for him later - calculating the probability of hypothetical questions - actually fin and needs a LOT of logical reasoning attached to it.)

This conversation transitioned to him bringing downstairs his Lego creations from the last few days and explaining them to me - various out-sized mechanized appendages to Lego characters based on an amine series he has watched.

Good start!

"A Really Big Shoe"

There is an old super-8 movie that shows my father and I marching around the living room of my early-childhood home with fire helmets on – backwards – pulling a little red wagon and a toy on a string.  Although there is no sound on the film, I know that we were marching to a beloved recording of Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus.  I remember the festive clown on the front of the album and the music full of brass, calliope and celebration.

In the film, I’m clearly having fun. But I keep glancing a bit furtively at the camera. I’m not used to being filmed while playing and the face of the three-year old boy parading around the room is self-consciousness.  Almost fearful.  You can see it over and over in multiple early films and photographs: the quizzical face of the boy who looks back at the camera as it records the circus parade, family vacations, and even birthdays. I seem to be asking: “What are you waiting for? Should I do something? How am I supposed to be behaving? Do I look OK?”

However, this tendency didn’t overwhelm my impulse to role play. In fact, one of my earliest memories of role playing as a child is a game of “Ed Sullivan” I played with my father in that same house.

My father was the pastor of a church and in the parsonage where we lived, there was a pair of glass French doors between the dining room and living room.  I would stand behind the doors and my father would introduce me: “Ladies and Gentlemen, here’s Ed Sullivan!”  I would come out of the doors – actually throw them open – and say, “We’re gonna have a really big shoe!”  I don’t know if I had ever seen Ed Sullivan at that point (it was 1968) or if my father had given me the line to say.  But Ed Sullivan is the first person I ever played as an actor.  And even thought the casting wasn’t really age appropriate, the audience (my father) loved it and something was born in me that loved the attention and loved to pretend.