Crouton Pie

Pu plutonium

Unfortunately, Purcell nixed Bronson working with plutonium.  "Plutonium stinks!" said Bronson. 

"I thought you liked it and wanted to work with it," suggested Hailey.

"No one whose father is a safety expert is allowed to like plutonium," said Purcell.

"I just want to be on the team.  We're going to have t-shirts made with the biohazard symbol and everything," Bronson pleaded.

Regrettably, this upset Purcell all the more.  "Biohazard symbols should never be used for sartorial effect!"  he warned.

"I guess you think I should stick a bunch of carnations in colored water to see what colors they turn.  That would be a really exciting project," said Bronson sarcastically. 

I pictured the whole Stella Rondo multipurpose room filled with eerily glowing carnations standing in vases of unnaturally colored water.  In my mind they were interspersed with a few papier-mache volcanoes listlessly spewing red-dyed lava made of baking soda and vinegar, and I knew just what Bronson was feeling.  How could we force him pass up the chance to work on a truly exciting science project?

When I tucked him in, Bronson had calmed down just a little. "Plutonium stinks!  No wonder it's called pu.  I wish I had never mentioned it," he said.  "I just wanted to be part of the team," he added morosely.  He said he didn't even feel like reading with his Itty Bitty Book Lite, but later I looked in and saw him reading a book from the school library about model rockets.  Another science fair idea?

Fortunately, I was able to maintain a positive attitude and this morning called the team mentor.  He said that the group will be building a Geiger counter from a kit.  He mentioned something about testing it at the nuclear power plant where he works, but I can't imagine that there would be anything there to detect!

Radiant

Bronson was glowing when he came home from school today.  He almost hugged me he was so happy he got to join the Biohazard Team.  The next words out of his mouth were, "One of the guys says his dad can get us some real plutonium!" 

I told him that this sounded a bit too good to be true, but we agreed that it is fabulous that the Stella Rondo Elementary School Science Fair encompasses such real life, hands-on science (although I made sure he understands that no one should really touch plutonium!).   

This is all wonderful, except that Hailey couldn't find a group to join.  (Apparently, everything has to be done in approved groups with adult mentors to demonstrate the collaborative nature of science and to make sure the Fair represents the full range of scientific inquiry.)  Hailey wants to demonstrate the devastating ecological effects of longline fishing, but all the groups she approached said it was out of their area. 

The Animal Behavior girls told her they are going to train dwarf hamsters to play hide and seek, and the sixth grade girls in the Science of Branding group aim to find out whether a site like MySpace could ever be as popular as MySpace.  I think that Hailey thought that branding had to do with tagging animals, but I told her that it was very brave of her as a fourth grader even to approach them with her idea.   

Meanwhile, Bronson has been using sharpies to decorate an old t-shirt with the traditional clawed biohazard symbol and the special radiation warning.  He made shirts for Amber and Hailey too.  They look so cool I think we could sell shirts like this as a Science Fair fund raiser.  I've already emailed the idea to the Stella Rondo Art Angels!

Pink Patio II

Purcell thought the Baked Alaska was the highlight of Zinnia and Stefano's Iditarod party (Zinnia really is a wonderful cook!), but I preferred Stefano's wonderfully expressive videos of the dog sled race.  He really captured a dog's point of view, even if there were a few too many shots of the shots of canine snouts, bootied paws, traditional mukluks and Gortex-clad ankles. 

Away from the other guests, Zinnia told me that there really had not been much for him to do, which is why he had taken so much video.  Fortunately, he was in such good shape that he actually ran alongside the dogs for the first two days.  She thinks that the musher finally told him to get lost.  The long run alone back to civilization is what really exhausted him.

It was a wonderful early spring night, and the blossoming apricot trees in their yard were so pretty they could have stood in for the Northern Lights!  Stefano seemed a bit subdued and changed by the trip, but perhaps that is just because he got a haircut after returning and no longer has tufts of hair sticking up like a Husky. 

Scratched

I ran into Zinnia at the park, where she had her two preschooler girls running around screeching and blowing loud whistles so that they would be quiet when they got back home.  Whenever they slowed down, quieted down, or came within speaking distance of her she waved a sheaf of papers at them and admonished them to keep on going. 

As Perugina and Mirabell darted around like sandpipers on their skinny legs, and one-year-old Amber struggled to keep up with them, Zinnia leafed through a stack of Baked Alaska recipes and told me that Stefano is already back from Alaska!  Wonderfully, the Iditarod team that Stefano had traveled to Alaska to support was formed from rescued dogs from all over the world, to publicize the beauty, strength and courage of all rescued animals.  Unfortunately, the dogs had difficulty working together and dropped out after the third leg.  The winners finished the race yesterday, but Stefano was already home and dog tired, curled up in his favorite corner of the couch, which is why they must all be very quiet when they get home. 

While the girls were screeching on the other side of the park, Zinnia confided in me that she thinks Stefano was accidentally sent the training protocol for dogs!  She says he won't believe it though; he is convinced there was some other mistake in the paperwork.  Whatever the reason, there was no lodging reserved for him in Anchorage, but he made do, although he didn't say how.  He did say that there was a California dog named Stefano on the roster who never showed.

Little notebooks for little thoughts

Some of you may wonder how I keep track of so many things, with so many balls in the air, between embracing the moment, planning ahead, practicing random acts of kindness, and living and learning something new every day.  The answer: little notebooks.  Keep one in your purse, your car, by the computer, and bedside table.  A small spiral notebook is perfect for all those details that may escape into the ether before you have a chance to do anything about them. 

If desired, at the end of each day or week (don't wait too long, or it can be overwhelming!), you can organize all the notes on a spreadsheet or in a master notebook.  As an added bonus, if you color code your master list you end up with a gorgeous patchwork of your life!

The sound of quills clashing

My letter to the editor finally made it into the Alto Cinco Quill!  Our delivery girl has a track meet this afternoon, so she even delivered the paper early, before school.  It's wonderful to live in a town where even the local newspaper accommodates the young people's schedules. 

My letter politely corrected Mike Wheelbeck's assumption that we hired the Jellyfish Hoedown parade for Hailey's party.  We very patiently explained that it was a Prize Parade, won by Leila our dog, by playing a delightful wii game that we whole heartedly recommend to all families with small children and dogs! I still think we could have spoken out more forcefully, but Purcell thought we should stay low key, and fortunately ours wasn't the only letter! 

The other writer said:  "It has come to my attention that my band and myself are mentioned negatively in a column by Mike Wheelbeck.  As the Rolling Stones say, you can't always get what you want.  But I'm going to try to turn it into something I need.  I am a custom adobe and concrete contractor.  You may have seen my trucks in town, with 'Jesus is my rock' on the side.  I thank God for mud, concrete and my business, and I also love my rock band.  So I want to amend the record about the band. I am fortunate that one of my clients here in Alto Cinco gave my rock band our first gig, playing for their little girl's party.  It was a great party, we kept it really clean for the kids, even cleaner than we usually are, and everyone seemed to love us. The party also really helped fire us up to keep practicing and professionalize the group.  We're available for all kinds of parties and events.  Check us out next month at the Heart of Gold Artichoke Festival on the coast.  We're called Ayers Rock (after the Led Zeppelin mesa and me)."  It was signed Mike Ayers, Midvale, CA.

At first I was merely thrilled that someone else wrote a letter correcting Mike Wheelbeck's column.  Then I started to wonder about the writer.  Could he be the husband of my long lost college roommate, Posey?  It's hard to believe we ever lost track of each other, but I'm pretty sure her husband is named Mike Ayers, although that's a common name.  Should I try to contact him?  He sounds a little angry, but perhaps that is just because of his brush with Mike Wheelbeck.  Amber and I are running out the door now for our mommy-and-me Pilates class, so I'll have to park that question for now in my little notebook.

To be an Iditarod dog

While reading my email early this morning, and wishing it were time for the Alto Cinco Quill to arrive, I saw Stefano run by pulling something that looked like a replica of Santa's sleigh.  It's a dull, rainy day, so it was hard to miss this red contraption slide into view and then suddenly stop.  Stefano unhooked his harness and dashed into Trish's yard.  It really looked like he chased a squirrel right into a tree!  Then he trotted back and resumed pulling the sleigh.

I know he's training to be in the Iditarod, but he's really looking more and more like a dog himself.  Zinnia mentioned the other day that she has been cooking pounds and pounds of meat, which is part of his training diet. 

I just went over to take him a good luck gift and found he's already gone!  Zinnia took him to the airport right after his practice run.  As I write this, he's on the plane on the first (and easiest) part of his trek to Nome.  I suppose that Leila and Poncho can eat the Eagle Pack Ultra Power dog food that we bought for him to take as a gift to the sled dogs. Hailey wanted to send some homemade dog treats, but I convinced her that racing dogs burning 10,000 calories a day really need something more substantial to sink their teeth into. Sadly, I could not get the Ultra Power dog food in caribou flavor.