wildebeest

There’s Clutter and Then There’s This

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Earlier this week I took a Decluttering class. It was a two-part class and for the second session we were supposed to bring a cluttered drawer, box, or bin to work on during class. It was so very hard to choose just one clutter-filled receptacle from my home, but I ended up taking a drawer that’d been underneath our air hockey table for the past five (at least) years. I ended up dumping/donating 90% of the clutter, and also found this (click to enlarge):
Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 014

I’m not entirely sure what it’s called, but this is a game Wildebeest and Zebu created many years ago. Complete with Maps
Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 011Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 010

Tokens
Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 004

 

 

 

 

 

Currency
Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 006

 

 

 

 

 

and Power Cards
Fletcher and Harlan homemade game 003

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’m holding onto this game. I know, I know. But would you be able to part with The God of All Ninjas? I thought not.

Lights! Camera! Reflection!

/ Tracy Abell

My favorite aspects of these holidays are the lights. We don’t have a tree this year (Wildebeest borrowed it for the house he shares with five others) but we do have two strings of lights artistically draped across our mantel. We also have a bunch of lights outside. This year, Zippy and I wrapped our locust tree in lights.
Birds + Christmas lights + smoothie 029

As you can see by this accidentally reflected photo, I smile every time I look at it.Birds + Christmas lights + smoothie 028

Random Image, Random Thought

/ Tracy Abell

Clicked at random and this photo by Wildebeest came up. It feels very YA and appropriate to my project, except for the fact no one in my book skates. But still . . .
Skating2 063

Maybe I should write a Lizard King into my story.

The more things change, . . .

/ Tracy Abell

. . . the more they stay the same. (Or, for the Francophiles: plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose)

I’ve written before about elder son’s (Wildebeest) penchant for doing things the hard and harder way. I didn’t exactly believe that that rock-headed character trait would disappear as he got older, but I admit to thinking it would, um, soften. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Whew.

I really do have to laugh, though, because when I needed an image for this post, I opened a photo file and clicked at random. This is what appeared:

Dreadlock attempt (hey, that's a great name for a band!)

Dreadlock Attempt (hey, that’s a great name for a band!)

Rather than believing that the Universe is peeing-its-pants-laughing at me, I choose to believe the Universe has my back.

Ties That Bind (Up Your Mind)

/ Tracy Abell

At the end of May, Zebu graduated from high school and was one of the speakers. The ceremony was held at Red Rocks Amphitheater (coolest place ever!), but we were seated halfway up the venue so had to rely on the Jumbotron. (Aside: It was a thrill seeing Zebu and friends on the big screen.)

My older brother and his girlfriend also attended, sitting even farther from the stage. Later on, he told me he couldn’t see a whole lot of details but did notice Zebu’s red tie beneath his black gown. I reminded my bro he’d given Zebu that tie for Christmas one year (along with white gym socks), thinking that was a cool factoid. NOT. Rather than feeling warm and nostalgic, my brother panicked a bit because he had no memory of that and went into a short tailspin about getting old and forgetful. I eventually helped the silly codger to a chair and handed him a glass of milk to calm his nerves, and we laughed it off.

Fast forward to today. I just found photographic proof of the tie AND gym socks. Behold, Christmas eve 2005:

l-r: Wildebeest, Zoey, Tracy, Coco, Zebu, and Uncle Pizza.

l-r: Wildebeest, Zoey, Tracy, Coco, Zebu, and Uncle Pizza.

I’m thrilled with this evidence, but am not sure whether it will soothe or further agitate my brother’s mind . . .

 

One Novel Idea

/ Tracy Abell

Looking at photos on the computer, I came across this:

(I can't find photographer's name)

This picture is in my bedroom. I bought the print when I was pregnant with Wildebeest because of the Kurt Vonnegut quote from God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater.**

One night while we were reading in bed, I mentioned to Zippy that I needed a new writing project. He pointed across the room and suggested I write the story of those five babies.
I did, and it became Framed: Toby Hart’s Official Police Statement. (In the second draft or so of the middle-grade novel, I had to kill off one of the kids. Well, not bump her off, but delete her storyline. Oddly enough, it was the baby who is front and center.)

The book didn’t sell and I have a bunch of notes on how to rewrite it, but in the meantime, despite the rejection, the babies and I share a kind coexistence. Kurt would want it that way.

** Full quote:
“Hello, babies. Welcome to Earth.
It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter. It’s round and wet and crowded.
At the outside, babies, you’ve got about a hundred years here.
There’s only one rule that I know of, babies—God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.”
~ Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.

Thankful Thursday: The Happiness Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

Yesterday was tough for a variety of reasons, but I didn’t realize how much of a toll it was taking until late last night when I was practically giddy with happiness. What happened?  

I received a follow-up phone call from Wildebeest who earlier in the day had expressed major angst and panic about a college assignment. He called back to explain how he’d managed to turn SS Catastrophe around and emerge victorious. As we talked, Wildebeest’s insights into his earlier behaviors and reactions, and my efforts to disengage from his panic, made me feel as if a heavy weight had been lifted. It was one of those Gold Star Parenting Moments.

Right after that call Zippy and I went to the high school to watch Zebu play his last home basketball game. He’s a senior this year and it’s been a disappointing season for him. He was seriously injured during a pre-season conditioning workout and ended up in the hospital for three days with a lacerated liver, and then couldn’t play for eight weeks. By the time he came back, his confidence was low and he never really hit his stride. But I’ve been mightily impressed with how he’s carried himself throughout those disappointments, and so was especially thrilled for him last night when he played his best game of the year. Talking with a relaxed and happy post-game Zebu felt like an absolute gift.

So that’s how my emotionally difficult day ended on a giddy note. As we got ready for bed, I repeatedly told Zippy how much better I felt; I was like an awestruck little kid taking out a shiny new toy to inspect over and over. I couldn’t stop staring at the Happy.

We all make our own happiness in this life, I can’t create it for my children and they aren’t responsible for mine, but it sure feels good when those positive feelings overlap and we’re all basking in the glow.

Batman session 2 001

 

A funny thing happened on the way to the finish line…

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Our local high school holds a 5k fundraising run in August, orchestrated by the cross country coach and team. We started running it the year Wildebeest ran cross country. It’s a tough course with some downhill early on and then the ups and downs that follow the neighborhood topography before a brutal uphill starting on the street and then over rocks and grass to finish up on the soccer field. It’s the kind of finish you don’t want anyone seeing you complete because you’re sure a lung will pop out of your chest or that you’re moving so slowly spectators will think you’re frozen in time.

I don’t like that kind of humiliation so last summer I trained on that last half-mile a bunch of times, pushing up the hill as hard as I could then jogging down before doing it again. I felt confident I’d finish strong when I ran that course in August. Except I ended up not being able to run because my mom needed assistance out of town. Oy.

So today was my third time running the course. I’ve been running consistently all summer but never went back to work that hill again. I regretted that. Today, after running two strong miles, I began to fade on the third. By the time I hit that last bit, I was whupped. And after looking at my watch and seeing the slow time, I decided “What the hell, I’m walking.” One of the other school’s cross country coaches** was there to cheer on his kids and when he saw me walking, ran up alongside me, exhorting me to run again. Which I did. Until he dropped off and then I walked again. Until he came up next to me again and got me running some more. Until he dropped back.

I think I walked two or three times in that race, something I NEVER do. And when I crossed the finish line I thought two things: Glad that race is over! AND The only thing that will redeem this race is if I win one of the raffle prizes.

Fast forward to the raffle portion of the post-race festivities when the cross country coach announced the top male and female racers in the Citizen category (Citizens are anyone over 18 years). The cross country coach announced my name and after a stunned moment, I walked to the front and said, “There’s no way. This was my slowest time on this course.”*** I convinced the officials they’d made a mistake and went back to my place in the crowd while they checked data again. But a few minutes later, the coach was next to me. “Can you come look at this? I think you’re our top female finisher.”

And I was.Tracy's Ram Run trophy 002

** this coach was formerly at our school and is responsible for Wildebeest’s knee problem after having him run 17 miles on concrete so I have some, what shall I call them, mixed feelings about the coach’s enthusiasm for running. 

*** this year was indeed my slowest time but after checking I realized it was only 41 seconds slower than my fastest time. Huh.

Oh yeah, and I also won a free jersey and pair of running shoes. Score!

Bonding with Wildebeest

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

Wildebeest moved out almost exactly one year ago, but for the past week we’ve spent lots of time together. In the ER two nights and then the hospital after his appendix was removed. And back here at home after one post-op night in his apartment during which time he realized he needed more help due to the painkillers and nasty antibiotics.

Today he finally feels like himself again and he’s headed back to his apartment and beloved cat, Bernice. But first, he asked if I’d cut his hair. Even during his tumultuous teens we declared cease-fires over many a (bad) haircut, and today as I cut off his ponytail I said, “Thank you so much for doing this with me. Zebu won’t let me touch a hair on his head.”

Fletcher's ponytail after cut 003

Wildebeest said it was how he liked getting haircuts. I shook my head in amazement and fired up the clippers. We shared conversation and laughter while I did my amateur shearing and then I made the inevitable mistake: a divot above his right ear. I yelped in panic, but Wildebeest only laughed and said, “This is how it goes. There’s always a mess-up.” As I fussed and apologized, he said, “Don’t you remember, Mom? You always get like this by the end of a haircut. The panic is payback for the Susie Derkins cut you gave me in grade school.”

Ah, yes. The day I chopped his bangs waaaay too high on his forehead and he just laughed.

Wildebeest and I have had more than our share of clashes, but to his credit, he’s never, ever given me grief for any hair errors. He’s got a big heart, that boy.

Fletcher's ponytail after cut 011 original

 

Not For the Faint of Heart

/ Tracy Abell / 6 Comments

It’s that special day again, when children and adults are encouraged to put their heartfelt emotions on public display, whether those feelings are authentic or not.

I appreciated my son’s sentiment years ago when he made and shared this Valentine with his classmates:

Kid valentine 2 001

But this one from Wildebeest is my all-time favorite:

Kid valentine 001

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY TO ALL OF YOU!                                                               (AND I REALLY AND TRULY MEAN THAT FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART!)

In Which Tracy Turns Fifty

/ Tracy Abell

Last week I turned 50 years old.

50 skeeball LJ 11.28.12
(image from morguefile.com matthew_hull)

Even when the birthday isn’t a major psychological milestone,
it’s hard for me to feel celebratory in late November
when the days are short and the gloom seems to stretch on forever.
Which is why I planned ahead and made arrangements for our family
to fly to San Diego and stay in a condo on the beach in Oceanside.

I really, really wanted solid family-bonding time because our
last few tumultuous years yielded less-than-heartwarming vacations.
This family time would be different, dammit!

And it was.

Wildebeest and I took morning walks on the beach,
talking and laughing.
Zebu and I shared a nighttime stroll,
watching the silhouettes of shorebirds
in the lights of the distant pier.

There was football, Frisbee, and boogie-boarding.
Sunshine,
surfers,
and sanderlings (my favorite busy-busy shorebird).

I saw dolphins just beyond the line of surfers, gracefully cutting through the water,
and Zebu got to see his first sunsets over the Pacific; he took this photo from our balcony:
Sunset in Oceanside

I shot pool for the first time in years and regaled my sons with tales of
my many years playing in bars and pool halls. My performance was
streaky, but I made enough good shots that Zebu commented it was
obvious I used to play a lot. (Score one for Mom!)

Months ago when I made arrangements, my plan was to
celebrate my birthday by running on the beach for 50 minutes,
and run I did (along with Zippy). My altitude lungs were tickled to
be at sea level, my trail-running feet were grateful for the mostly
flat beach, and my bird-loving heart was thrilled by the constant
presence of gulls, pelicans, crows, willets, and curlews. I smiled
and waved and called out greetings to my feathered friends as I ran.
We went 5.69 miles in those 50 minutes, the final mile our fastest.

Then we soaked in a hot tub.

Now we’re back home in Colorado dealing with our real lives, the
skin-shriveling dry air, and a lack of happy-inducing negative ions.
However, I’ve got a mental scrapbook filled with wonderful memories and a
healthy start on how I’ll define life after fifty.

Plus this lovely souvenir from our family vacation in Oceanside, California.

Oceanside rock in hand 005

Friday Five: The Spawn Edition

/ Tracy Abell

It’s been a while since I shared anything about Wildebeest and Zebu
so I dedicate this Friday’s post to the boys.

1) Wildebeest opted to not attend college and is living in a duplex
with a bunch of guys, some of them students and others co-workers
from Casa Bonita. He’s quite content with his life, and he and I have
lots of phone conversations. Now that we no longer live together
we’re free to like each other again.

Face 002
Self-portrait from years ago.

2) Wildebeest has a new friend he calls Bernice. He adopted her
from a cat rescue place and they love each other very much.  I
bought her some cat toys and only felt slightly grandma-esque.

3)  Zebu is a junior this year and last night I went to his teacher
conferences. He’s doing very well and I was an especially proud
mother when two teachers in a row told me they appreciated
his sarcastic sense of humor.

passport Harlan 002
Old passport photo we just updated this week.

4)  We’re easing into basketball season and Zebu is looking
forward to being a taller, stronger player this year. He lifts weights
at school and the club but is kind enough to help me with my form
as I lift at home. (Turns out I was rocking my body during hammer curls).

5)  Wildebeest is coming over on Monday night to watch the Broncos-
Chargers game and while I usually take those opportunities to disappear,
I think I’ll stick around and watch the game with the menfolk.

Wishing everyone a beautiful, autumnal weekend!

Friday Five: The Catching Up Edition

/ Tracy Abell

1)  Zebu turned 16 this week and got his driver’s license.
Knowing him, that’s what he was dreaming about in this old photo:
passport Harlan 001

2)  Zippy is training for the MS 150 Colorado Bike Ride next weekend
and has been going on looong rides in the 90+ degree temperatures plus
commuting to work via bike which means a return ride of 12+ miles uphill.
(It’s a good cause and he’s low on fundraising so if you have a couple bucks
to toss his way he’d be thrilled).

3)  Wildebeest is living with Casa Bonita workmates and enjoying
the freedom of a home so messy he temporarily lost his phone.

4)  I am waiting to hear back from a critique partner on my revisions
before I can finally, finally send them off. In the meanwhile I’m revisiting the project
I set aside several months ago and tweaking the synopsis with a new perspective.

5)  The nest cam is still running at Cornell University and here’s the youngest
hawk looking quizzical on her return visit to the nest the other day:
Hello #3

I’ve been out of the loop here but hope everyone is doing well.
Wishing you all a great weekend!

Hawk Watch

/ Tracy Abell

Know what I’ve been doing?
Watching a pair of Red-Tailed Hawks in Ithaca, New York.
Wait, Tracy. I thought you were in Colorado.
That’s true, but the Cornell Lab of Ornithology has a nest cam on a light pole
about the athletic field where this pair has nested for at least the last four years.
And I’m watching.
(Wildebeest and Zebu think it’s a bit creepy to spy on birds without
their consent and I agree somewhat, but my curiosity wins out).

This is the female (designated Big Red) during her nest shift:

Here is what’s underneath: the first hawklet that hatched early yesterday morning
and the two pipped eggs:

I’m including this second screen save because right then I saw movement in the egg on the left and the already-born hawklet was leaning in and chirping, as if offering encouragement. (I know . . . anthropomorphism alert!)

(Also, I believe that red mass in the upper right is the remains of a pigeon.
Hawks are birds of prey, after all. Apologies for the graphic image but I’m just
learning how to do screen saves and that image was “grabbed” with everything else).

As I mentioned to a friend yesterday I thought my birthing experiences were hard
work (and they were), but I was never rained and snowed upon or worried about
attacks from owls or had to deal with one newborn while two others struggled to hatch.

Whew.

One more shot of the ever-vigilant mama:

(Warning: I’m sure I’ll be back with more shots of the next hawklet . . .)
EDITED TO ADD:

Here’s an exhausted hawklet #2 leaning against third egg in process of hatching:

Here are both hawklets while #1 gets fed:

And one more, just because:

Friday Five: The Slice of Life Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

1)  Whenever fifteen-year-old Zebu winks at me, I swing between feelings of admiration and intimidation since I’ve never felt confident enough of my winking ability to do so.

image from morguefile.com

2)  At my suggestion eighteen-year-old Wildebeest is reading Stephen King’s MISERY, and enjoying himself mightily.

3)   Zoey and Coco want me to remember that when I choose to bathe them and
spray them with water, I must be prepared for the relationship to suffer a loss of trust.

© Tracy Abell 2012

4)  Zippy is reading a library e-copy of 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami, a 944-page
novel, and was thrilled to discover even though his copy is overdue he can
still read it as long as he doesn’t close the file.

5)  I’ve been battling flu-like symptoms much of the week but plan to get
on the treadmill in a couple hours for my cardio workout, and hope to feel
those “endolphins” kick in (so I’m, in the words of Zippy, “swimming in the dolphin tank.”)

image from morguefile.com

Wishing everyone a lovely weekend!

Familial Points of Intersection

/ Tracy Abell / 16 Comments

      

I share a home with three males,
and often feel odd-person-out.
Males and females are different in many ways,
and I'm not just talking an appreciation of farts.

In addition to the gender gap there are also generational divides
between Zippy and me, and our teenage sons.
Oldsters and youngsters don't always have the same outlooks,
and not just because certain people can stay up all night.

There's also the whole issue of us being individuals,
which fosters our unique perspectives on the world.

When I think about it this way, it's nearly a miracle
the four of us can agree on anything.
But we do.
And on days of particularly bumpy familial relations
(I'm looking at you, Today!),
I find it helpful to reflect on the list of our shared interests:

1)  All four of us love Arrested Development!

2)  All four of us love The Clash!

3)  All four of us love Indian food!

4)  All four of us love March Madness!

If you were to draw a Venn Diagram of this household,
those would be the four major points of intersection 
between Zippy, Wildebeest, Zebu, and me.

And as you know, we are now in the month of March
which means we can focus on our shared passion for non-stop college basketball.

Save this family, March Madness!

                   
  

There Will Be Tears

/ Tracy Abell / 27 Comments

             

Over winter break, one of Zebu's classmates committed suicide.
I thought I'd cried myself out during the candlelight vigil
that followed three days later but discovered this past weekend at the
boy's service there is no limit to tears.

As I watched Zebu and friends consoling one another,
holding each other,
crying,
I thought I'd break in two.
And for the first time I absolutely, fully and completely,
understood how suicide transfers the pain of one onto many.
Years ago I was in a very sad place that didn't offer much light or hope,
and didn't think I could continue.
This weekend as I witnessed all that grief, I was so grateful
I'd made it through to the light and spared others my pain.

My heart aches for the boy who was unable to, in that moment,
find a glimpse of something to keep him going.
My heart aches for the family and friends left wondering why.
My heart aches for the many people struggling right now to find the light and hope.

And so the tears continue.


                                                                                             © Wildebeest 2012 

                     

Parenting

/ Tracy Abell / 8 Comments

               

It starts out like this:

                                                                                           image from morguefile.com

And somewhere along the way, turns into this:

                                                                               image from morguefile.com

We just survived an incredibly difficult weekend
and are all more tired than usual but (mostly) intact.
Here's to a new week and a fresh start.
I'm trying to keep this in mind:

Children begin by loving their parents;
as they grow older they judge them;
sometimes they forgive them. 
               ~Oscar Wilde

               

Friday Five: The Comes and Goes Edition

/ Tracy Abell / 13 Comments

1)  Yesterday as I revised (again) Chapters One and Two it felt like a losing battle to make this book what I hoped it could be, and I experienced despair

2)  but when I read those revisions right before bed, I realized I’d made huge progress and found the tone of the story amidst all that rubble, and I felt rejuvenated.

3)  Yesterday morning Wildebeest was crabby and negative as I drove him to school

4)  but this morning he was laughing and happy with life and the day ahead.

5)  Today I’m grateful for the knowledge that the Good and Not-So-Good come in waves, and that whatever rolls in eventually rolls out only to replaced by something else that just might be Very Good or even Excellent.

                                           image from morguefile.com

I wish everyone, at minimum, a Very Good weekend!

Sunday Outing

/ Tracy Abell / 4 Comments

              

Yesterday Zippy, Zebu and I went to Casa Bonita to see Wildebeest perform.


 

I'd never been there, but it's common knowledge people go for the entertainment
rather than the food.

Here I am, Vegetarian in a Strange Land, with the dinner everyone above 
the age of two must buy:

I moved the mound of food around the plate, but it was pretty obvious I ate nothing.

We were seated right next to the stage that is flanked by a waterfall and sits above the pool
for the dive shows.  This was our view across the restaurant: 
 
 
Here's Wildebeest in a skit with Chiquita the Gorilla:

And here he is in another skit with Black Bertha (Black Bart's sister):

Here are Zippy and Zebu exploring the lower level dining area:

This table got my vote for Most Claustrophobic Seating:

It was such fun watching Wildebeest get up on stage and do his thing.
We're thrilled he landed a job that makes him happy and brings smiles to lots of people.

Even when he tries to pretend otherwise.