It wasn’t that great; there was some good weather but not enough, and much of that while we were off in Berlin or Saskatchewan. But there were compensations, family things.
Peter had extra tickets, so we took the boy (just turned eight) to a football game. I had fun clicking with the 70-210 Tamron from way up in the cheap seats, and learned that I should have cranked the ISO more. To be honest, I’d rather watch football on TV. Still, the boy had a blast.
It’s just crazy here; everything, everything is under construction. Here are some guys doing practical trigonometry. Amusing sidelight: this house is #69 East on the same street on which we are #69 West. To make it worse, there used to be a guy named “Tim” living there. Poor postie.
We’ve been enjoying our kids; the eight-year-old seems just incredibly mature, partly by contrast with the baby, but partly he’s just growing up. The girl, she’s developing serious baby skillz; not (quite) walking or talking yet, but all sorts of spoon-and-food technique; loves being tossed around. We have to avert our eyes at some of the games her brother plays with her, which involve dragging her around on her stomach on the carpet, or throwing her sideways onto the couch. But she cackles wildly with glee and he’s never hurt her.
The boy has his first “real” bike, with gears and handbrakes and so on. We’ve been venturing out on some more lengthy expeditions, which is an outstanding way to see—I mean really look at—pieces of the city that you otherwise wouldn’t. I recommend it.
Our civic-workers’ strike has been going on, it seems, forever. Thus, the summer session of my drumming classes couldn’t meet indoors, which turned out to be a blessing, because those eight Thursday evenings were reasonably clear and warm, so we played outside, in Strathcona Park; drums always sound better outside. I brought the boy along, with his new bike, to zoom around the park and listen to the drums, one day when Lauren and the girl were away. He liked it so much he came back for a bunch more classes.
So, I’m dedicated to the proposition that making the Net better is a good thing, for me personally because I live there, for the world in general, and for me again personally because of those Sun stock options, whose value is strongly Net-linked.
But there’s evidence on my side. A couple of weeks ago I got an email out of the blue, from which I quote: “Of course Leonard Cohen. A common taste for those growing up at that time in Beirut ... And, does your mother still bake fresh bread?” It was a one-time sweetheart; my first, in fact. I haven’t seen her for thirty-four (34!) years. We’ve been conversing by email: what we remember about then, and her ideas about a new business, and what we’ve been through in the interim.
More evidence, were any needed, that the Net is, on balance, a very good thing.
Comment feed for ongoing:
From: Roguish Smurf (Sep 03 2007, at 13:38)
Thoroughly enjoy your writing.
I lived in that middle building at 1145 Homer for nearly a year. Some nice and some not so nice memories, but I don't ever remember the two towers having such a pink/orange hue? A bit too much "tweaking" in Aperture?
From: Fro (Sep 03 2007, at 19:44)
I couldn't figure out what was disturbing about the photo of the womens hospital 'til I realised that the writing said "Mental Health" , not "Dental Health".