Shit happens ...

... after a lot of tears, cajoling, pleading and half a chld's fleet enema.

May need to repeat the process if he doesn't go again today.

Damn. Happy New Year.

Poop watch, day 6 ...

Been away for a long time - child #2 made his debut 3 months ago and life hasn't been the same since.

Poor child #1 (aka "P"); he's had a rough time with the new arrival. He's no longer the sun in the solar system; he's now part of a binary star grouping with child #2 glowing a little more brightly than he is - mom and dad are still orbiting (hovering?) around him, but there's another gravity pull tugging us away from him now.

It's tough sharing the spotlight.

Unfortunately, now P is full of shit. Literally.

He's 3 years and 10 months and refuses to potty train. Physically he can do it - mentally, he's not there. L and I refuse to get the larger set of diapers - he's going to need adult size "Depends" soon.

I know that it's partly a control issue - one of the few things he can control is what comes into and out of his little body - but it's also stubbornness. I don't know if it's an attention plea, but it sure is working - I can't stop thinking about his predicament.

He's had some constipation in the past, but not this bad. He's lethargic and whiny and looks like he's been partying with Lindsey Lohan for the last week.

I feel horrible for him. He's not the bubbly, rambunctious 3 year old that I know and love. He doesn't even want to play "zombie pillow fight" - our nightly before-bed activity involving pillows, our king-size bed and a lot of tickling.

I have tomorrow off as per usual; so, tonight it's glycerin suppositories and miralax and hopefully some "zombie time".

I hope ... shit happens. Peace.

"Joe Blue" or "Blue Joe" - both sound a little inappropriate ...

... I finished refurbishing my late 80's / early 90's composite Joe Garolofo- built 190 pound weight class single. So after a lot of sanding, fiberglass patching, priming, painting (3 coats of blue on the hull, multiple coats of rustoleum black on the hardware), varnishing (4 coats on the entire cockpit), replacing oarlocks, silicon-ing important joints, retaping and fixing the soft decks (the only part of the boat I did NOT take apart), it's done:




I took it out on the water yesterday and it was a good ride. I wish I had a photo of the hull, as the blue paint job turned out very nicely.

This boat is defintely a "Joe", not a "Joseph" - I'm glad that I gave him a new look.

If you need me, I'll be on the Mississippi ...

For Dr. Villanova ...

It was hot and humid but we had taken refuge under a large umbrella that shaded hard concrete benches. I had to keep my sunglasses on because of the glare from the surrounding structures. She only wore openness and a faint laugh lines on her face.

It had been years. Initially the dialogue was scripted and stunted, but the heat seemed to loosen up our tongues and the flow of give-and-take washed over us. The banter between two old-ish souls.

Life has been good to both of us. We've each had some subtractions but they have been overpowered by the additions. Time has been gentler to her than to me but I bet we both have the same hair color at the roots.

You hope to marry your soul mate; to find the yin for your yang. I think we both did, but there are the few other choice people that pass through your life that you always care about. You genuinely are happy for their successes or sad for their losses. These are the people who actually seem to be listening when you talk and not only hear but understand. They are the signal amongst the noise.

We were able to filter the noise for a few hours and it was nice and comforting.

We parted, vowing to not wait so long before the next time, but life seems to often get in the way as the additions multiply in our busy lives. And that's OK, because we know that there will be a next time when two old friends will sit down and talk. Peace.

I don't know why, but I like this ...

Has nothing to do with me at this time but I remember a time when I was ...

Projects ...

... that are keeping me waaaaayyy too busy:

1) All Things Rowing - besides getting out 4 or 5 times a week, I also decided to rehab an old rowing shell (it's taking longer than I expected):




2) Appliances - need to attach the icemaker for the new fridge but I'm chicken and too cheap; the upstairs toilet wobbles waaaayyyyy too much - especially for a toilet training toddler


3) Bonsai - they are growing like weeds and desperately need a trim. (Hey LG, recognize the pot?)



4) Life/Family - highest priority as expected. The better half, the heir and the spare on the way.



I seriously need more hours in a day ...

Not a great start to the morning ...

... when I almost flipped my single right off the dock and then almost took out half of the MBC competitive rowing team.

But it got better.

Bruce and I could not go out in a double this morning because John was taking somebody out in the double that we usually use. (How dare he use his boat!) The other doubles were either being used by the competitive team or were de-rigged for transport for the regatta tomorrow.

"Looks like it's singles today; Jim's all ready out there in the Win Tech," Bruce deadpanned. His normal speaking voice is deadpan anyway - it's hard to tell if he's serious or joking sometimes. Bruce is cool.

I helped him get his single down from the racks and he launched. I went back inside the boat house; instead of using the oars that came with this single, I decided to try my new oars. This, I would soon learn, was a mistake.

I carried my oars down to the dock and then I carried my boat down next. I noticed that the competitive team was coming in, so I hurried to launch in order to get out of their way. I stowed my G2 bottle and granola bar in the foot well and put my oars in the oarlocks.

As I slid into the seat of my single, a double with Eric and Cliff was about to dock. I pushed off to launch and immediately realized that my oars would not turn in the oarlocks! The collars on my new set of oars were too big and would not rotate in the oars locks.

I tired to unfeather them to take a stroke and they would not budge. The current was now taking me sideways downstream right into the path of, oh, half of the competitive team boats.

"Shit! Eric - get somebody to help me!" Luckily Eric realized I was fucked and panicking and yelled to Peter (competitive team coach) in the launch.

I was still drifting downstream sideways; but I managed to flip one of my oars - but this made matters worse: one oar was now feathered and buried deep in the water, the other oar was squared but flailing 3 feet above the Mississippi River. I was tipped so far to one side, I was sure I was going in. In front of everybody. At the worst spot in the river.

I could see the Estonian lady mouthing to me to get my oar feathered and on the water as I narrowly missed her boat as I started to pick up speed as I floated downstream. Thanks, lady, I'd love to but I can't. I'm trying ... really.

Because of the way my oars were buried, I spun another 270 degrees, almost hitting Charlie and a few other boats, but luckily found myself oriented the right way and stable enough to pull my oars in just enough to clear the collars of the oarlocks and be able to feather both oars on the water.

Peter had positioned himself downstream from me in the lauch; I tried to explain what had happened (I can't imagine what shade of red my face was) but he just calmly replied, "Try to make it back to the dock".

I had regiained my composure and my balance and was able to take enough short strokes with the oars pulled in that I made it back to the dock. Thank you, Jesus. I did not flip. I did not hit any other boats. The only thing damaged was my pride.

Eric held my single at the dock and I ran up to exchange my new oars for the older ones that came with the boat - the ones that fit in the freakin' oarlocks!

Most of the team were already off the dock (most everyone has to hustle to get to work on time, I guess), so I was ready to re-launch (with the right equipment) and join Bruce and Jim upstream.

I took a few tentative strokes and everything worked fine. I actually had a good, uneventful row.

So, what started out as a disaster, ended up being ok. No harm, no foul.

I just won't be able to look any of those guys in the eye for a while ...