My So Called Life

Father’s Day Part 2

/ Shane / Leave a comment

Last week I mentioned the special father’s day activity that Evelyn planned for me, and this weekend it was Oliver’s turn.

He and Sara had secretly planned a one-night camping trip, just for the two of us.

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Unbeknownst to me, they had made reservations and hidden all of the camping stuff in Ollie’s closet (which Ollie had helpfully labeled “KEEP OUT”). In fact, the day before Sara had sent me to the grocery store to get hotdog buns, and I still had no clue. 🙂 When I opened the envelope on Saturday morning containing my instructions, I kept saying, “Really?”

It turns out that there is an honest to goodness campground inside Cook County. Who knew? It’s called Shabbona Woods and it was actually quite lovely, especially for our purposes.

We had a lovely campsite, hotdogs, smores, and a couple of miles of hiking trails. Perfect!

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In fact, perhaps we had a little TOO many smores, because Ollie was a bundle of energy. Even after I made him run laps around the campsite, he still had no desire to go to sleep. I told him a story, and then he told me a story, during which I promptly fell asleep. Then he quized me on parts of his story and then said, “Let’s keep going back and forth, telling each other stories!” I was like, “Uh…I don’t think so,” and he said, “Do you want to run a mile??”

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But the REAL story of our trip was the story of the incomparable Buddy. Let me tell you about Buddy, the most wonderful firefly that ever lived.

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It turns out that Ollie has never seen fireflies before. We don’t have them in Chicago, and when we’re camping, he is usually in bed before they come out. Naturally, he was enthralled; not so much by the glowing, but more on how easy they are to catch. They just sort of hover slowly at 6 year old eye-level, and even if they escape they go right back to hovering in front of you.

So this particular firefly was just sort of hanging out on his hand, and I made the mistake of throwing out a comment, “Oh hey, I think this one likes you!”

*Boom*, Ollie was smitten. Suddenly he had his life all laid out: he and Buddy were going to live together forever, travel the world, possibly fight crime… Buddy was suddenly the best friend he ever had. Periodically I would say, “Eventually you’re going to have to let Buddy go…” and he would scream “NO!” at me.

Unfortunately, during a game of release-and-catch they were playing, Buddy made a break for it and escaped into the woods.

Desolated does not describe the way Ollie felt. I am talking the absolute depths of despair here. He was inconsolable. Somehow he had so internalized the “this one likes you” that he couldn’t believe that Buddy had left him. In panic, I asked if he wanted to call mommy and tell her about Buddy, but he was crying so hard he couldn’t even talk.

I kind of thought it would be over soon, but every few minutes he would remember his good friend Buddy and start wailing anew. “Buddy!” he cried into the woods. “BUUUUUDDDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!” I don’t know how many times he asked me if he would ever see Buddy again.

Even the next day, he was still crying about it. We were leaving and he sobbed, “I saw a flash from the woods, but I don’t think it was Buddy. I think Buddy told the other fireflies to watch over me, and they were letting me know Buddy was okay.”

He even told me that he was going to write to Santa and ask to be reunited with Buddy. ::sigh:: What is it with this boy and testing the limits of Santa’s magic?

Father’s Day #1

/ Shane / 2 Comments

This year for father’s day, Evelyn and Oliver have each planned a special day for just the two of us. Evelyn’s day was up first. She decided to treat me to a day at the theater (no surprise there!) and to a restaurant I have been wanting to go to.

The two of us got all fancied up, then went to see “The Flying Housewife, A True Story“. This was the true story of Jerrie Mock, the first woman to fly solo around the world. I had never even heard of Jerrie Mock, so it was very interesting. The play was written and directed by Jerrie’s granddaughter (Jerry only just passed away a few years ago).

Evelyn was completely enraptured by the play, needing me to put my arm around her during the scary parts, and bouncing in her seat otherwise. Afterwards, she informed me that she would be doing her next biography project on Jerrie Mock, which is high praise indeed.

The lead actress, Suzy Brack, had previously been in The Best Christmas Pageant Ever with Evelyn, and she really did just an amazing job as Jerrie Mock. I would say she stole the show, but she was the lead actress, so it’s not really stealing, right?

Afterwards, we went to Chicago’s first cider bar, The Northman. It should come as no surprise to readers of this blog that I love apples, and after all those years of making applesauce, it turns out I have pretty strong opinions about apples. Who knew? (Don’t get me started on Red Delicious…)

I tried both the house cider, which was excellent, and a German “rough” cider, which was made from Braeburn and Jonagold apples (two varieties I am very familiar with!), and was even better. I think I’m going to say it was the best cider I have ever had.

Evelyn and I even split some maple glazed cider donuts, with brown butter ice cream and pecan crumble. It was that kind of day.

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Overall I think that Evelyn felt very grown up and fancy to be all dressed up and sitting at a grown up restaurant (i.e. bar) with her daddy, and she really had the best time ever. When we got home we couldn’t get her into bed; she was just talking a mile a minute. And really, what could be a better father’s day present than that?

Everyone agrees that Oliver’s day is EVEN BETTER, so now I am very curious as to what he has planned for me…

The dangers of unlabeled containers in the refrigerator, or, how I accidentally enjoyed a steaming mug of beef broth

/ Shane / Leave a comment

 

The other day I decided to make myself a delicious chai latte, so I reached into the fridge on the bottom right hand shelf in the door where we ALWAYS KEEP THE CHAI LATTE. I thought I had grabbed this:

But only after heating up a steaming mugfull and taking an enormous gulp did I discover that what I had ACTUALLY grabbed, was this:

Notice how similar they look? Like, if you grabbed one and not the other, you might not even think to look at the package, especially since they’re both kind of brown and also you kind of assume that nobody in your life is enough of a MONSTER to put a box of beef broth in the sacred position occupied by the chai.

You know how when you’re expecting one thing and you accidentally get something else, it’s sort of an unpleasant surprise? Like if you’re expecting a delicious, sweet, chai latte and what you get instead is some kind of beef/warm milk combo? You know that feeling? No?

Well, *I* know that feeling.

(Spoilers: It’s not a good feeling.)

Okay, but that’s not the fault of unlabeled containers, that’s only the fault of me being an idiot. Don’t worry, I didn’t lure you here with false promises; I have another story.

We always have a lot of unlabeled containers in the fridge. On any given day, we probably have 15 or 20 unlabeled quart and pint jars spread throughout the fridge containing various liquids, jams, yogurts, and pastes. This is at least an improvement upon my house growing up, where everything was in old margarine containers, sometimes with things like “Green Peppers” written on the lid in sharpie five years ago when the container presumably actually did contain green peppers. At least our jars are transparent, if not actually distinguishable.

So naturally, when Sara made some homemade chicken stock, she put it in quart jars and put them in the fridge. I’m talking the real stuff: chicken carcass boiling away on the stove for a full day with some carrots and celery and seasoning and love and a lot of time hard work.

JUST AS NATURALLY, when I made some simple syrup, I put THAT in quart jars and put them in the fridge (right next to the chicken broth). I’m talking the real stuff: maple syrup crystals and water (and love!)

I think you see where this is going.

Sara was making an enormous pot of soup, and she included two jars of chicken stock and one jar of pure sugar water. It was…sweet (to say the least). It honestly wasn’t *that* bad but, after the multiple days of effort wasted, Sara couldn’t even bring herself to eat it.

“No, it’s really good!” I proclaimed, but she wasn’t having it. This was a BIG pot of soup, and even with efforts that bordered on heroic, I couldn’t stomach the thought of a third day of too-sweet leftovers, so I eventually had to dump it.

Learn from my mistakes, kids. Be careful what you pour (or at the very least, make one of the kids try it first!)

The Nebulas

/ Shane / Leave a comment

The Nebula awards are one of the two big awards you can win in speculative fiction (the other being the Hugo awards). The Nebulas are put on by the Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA), and include not only the big, fancy, academy award-style award ceremony, but also a conference for professional writers.

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So, the panels weren’t focused so much on writing, per say, (although there were a few) but more on all of the aspects of business *around* writing. Things like running a kickstarter, how to teach workshops, questions on Intellectual Property, and how to be interviewed.

I was a speaker on two panels: “Social Media Puzzle Pieces” and a panel just entitled “Humor” (no pressure there — hey, stare at these people, they are HILARIOUS! Okay go!). I think they actually went really well (though of course nobody would tell me if they were awful, now would they?) I was particularly anxious about Humor, because…what do you say about humor? Who’s to say anybody should listen to me on the matter? Did someone think it was funny to schedule my panel in the absolute last time slot on the absolute last day of the conference, and then expect me to have enough brainpower left to be interesting, much less make people laugh??? But the panel was actually well attended, and I thought we had a very deep, intellectual conversation about humor (if not actually that funny).

In addition to all of the panels, socializing, and networking, you also get a HUGE PILE OF FREE BOOKS, plus the opportunity to buy more. There was even an enormous autographing session (open to the public) featuring over 80 authors signing books.

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(My haul)

The autographing session was certainly one of the highlights of the weekend for me, not only because I got to meet Naomi Novik and have her sign a copy of Uprooted (which would go on to win Best Novel), but also because I knew *so many people* that I hardly had time to say hello to everybody.

I think that’s ultimately what made this the best con experience I can imagine. Everybody was someone I wanted to meet or talk to. The Nebula Conference was actually very small (well, 300ish people small), and you couldn’t help but trip over everybody you wanted to see. It was the absolute crème de la crème of the writer’s world, and for the first time I actually felt like I was successful enough that these people were my peers.

I could start listing names, but seriously I would just end up listing every person who was at the conference. I met so many online friends that I had never met in person before. I met new awesome people that I didn’t even know existed before the weekend. People were actually excited to meet *me*, like I was somebody to meet. I chatted with Nebula nominees, SFWA Grandmasters, editors, and bestselling authors like it ain’t no thang. Lunches were had. Friends won awards. I spoke on panels like a boss.

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People make the distinction between introverts and extroverts: introverts “recharge” by spending quiet time alone, and extroverts “recharge” by spending time around people. By that definition, I am a classic extrovert, unlike 99% of all other writers. (“So you’re the one stealing all of our energy!” said my friend Danielle.) After spending all day Friday at the conference, I was charged up enough to arc lightening into anybody who sat close enough on the train home.

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(Apparently this drink was called a “Hugo” which seemed both ridiculously appropriate and inappropriate at the same time)

I didn’t actually attend the Nebula awards ceremony; since I was local and since I had already called in all my favors to help watch the kids all weekend, it seemed like a good place to go home and actually help out around the house. My plan was to watch the livestream of the awards but…I may have ended up falling asleep at 8:30.

I wanted to mention my three favorite panels:

  • “I Remember When” 
    This panel was basically just the “elder statesmen” (and states-women) of SFWA telling stories about the good old days. These stories were amazing, and talk about name-dropping! These people remember a time when Asimov and Heinlein were members. There was something so adorable about Damon Knight secretly throwing peanuts at Joe Haldeman’s head. I don’t know, if this panel was scheduled for every timeslot of every day, I would just keep going to it.
  • “What Teens are Looking for in YA Literature”
    Real, live teenagers talking about what they want and what they don’t want to see (love triangles) in their books. This panel was so great. These teenager were such teenagers, it was hilarious. They had strong opinions. I’m amazed that they could get up in front of a room of strangers and speak so confidently. Seriously, though, you can’t pay for that kind of insight.
  • “How to Give an Effective Reading”
    Any time I have ever heard someone ask about giving a reading, someone directs that person to Mary Robinette Kowal’s website. So I was very happy to attend this one in person. Mary didn’t just tell you silly tips or something, she actually explained WHY you should do certain things. Like, the science behind it. This was by far the most informative panel I attended over the weekend.

The whole experience was absolutely amazing, start to finish. It was so amazing, that it’s almost like it wasn’t real. I feel like I forged some lasting friendships, learned a lot about the business of writing (a peek behind the curtain, if you will), and most importantly I feel like I gained a ton of confidence.

I fit in. I belonged among the best writers in the field.

It’s a magical feeling. So magical, in fact, that I had trouble adjusting back into the real world on Monday. It was how it must feel to be kicked out of Narnia.

Maybe time to start planning for Pittsburgh next year?