Friday, August 20, 2021
Summer 2021 in Words
This was the summer where everyone went places. The Rees family went to San Diego. Viv and Jerry went to Salt Lake City. Theo went to San Diego. So did the Lawrences, and Carrie and Lucy. Then Theo and Levi went to Madera. Eric moved to Colorado and then Darcy went to visit him. So did Sydney. Rachel went to Mom and Claire's. The Thomases went to Idaho. Dad and Kathy went to Atascadero, as did Carrie, Chris and Lucy. The Gregorys went to Salt Lake City 18 times (or something). Basically we got around a bit. Also, we were funny.
(gasps)
"Sorry Hal, it's your FACE!"
"This summer has shown me that there are a lot of different parenting styles. Some parents keep their kids in carseats until they are 12, and others are like, 'Hey, can you steer so I can send this text?'" -Levi
Colin wowed the surfing judges, ultimately bringing home a gold medal.
Viv told a story about summoning an attendant while using a space-age toilet in a Korean rest stop, then fleeing the scene unflushed, hoping to avoid an in-person conversation.
Hugo got a whipped cream pie in the face for his birthday. Surprisingly/not surprisingly, other kids wanted in on the action.
Thursday, August 19, 2021
Angry Tortillas From Outer Space
It was a beautiful day in San Diego. Hugo lay on his back, floating aimlessly in the pool. He could feel the warm sun on his wet skin. His ears were just under the surface of the water, so the world was quiet and peaceful. “I wish I had an otter pop,” he thought. Even though his eyes were closed, he could sense when a shadow fell across the sun. “What’s that?” he wondered, opening one eye to squint up at the sky. “A cloud? In San Diego?”
Wait, what WAS that? Hugo stood up in the pool and rubbed the water out of his eyes. Directly above him in the sky was a collection of floating circles. If those were clouds they were super weird…
As he watched, the tightly bunched circles spread out and zig zagged around the sky. Each one of them was about 6 ft wide, and when they spread out he could see that there were several hundred of them. Hugo’s Spidey Sense began to tingle. Something strange was going on...He reached for the walkie talkie that he and Gwen always kept close by in case of emergencies. “Breaker breaker Nenny Penny, “ he called, using her code name. “I think we have an emergency.”
Gwen was lying on her bed admiring her crystal chandelier. When she heard the walkie talkie alert she immediately executed a side roll and activated a hidden button under the bed, at the same time as she reached for the walkie talkie. “I gotcha, brother,” she said. “Emergency plan activated.”
The emergency button activated the annoying robot neighbor who lived next door. He immediately rang the doorbell and forced Vivian and Jerry into a long conversation in the driveway. With her parents safely out of the way, Gwen raced down the stairs, meeting a dripping Hugo at the computer. As she typed in the password to access the computer, Gwen rolled her eyes at Hugo. “It’s amazing that our parents still think we don’t know the computer password is ‘JerrBear123,’ she chuckled. Hugo laughed, but seemed distracted and kept looking out of the window.
“By the way, what’s up?” she asked, as she activated a call to the Rees house. Hugo shook his head.as he reached for his lightsaber. “I”m not completely sure…” he said, as the lightsaber zinged to life…”but it looked like Angry Tortillas from Outer Space.”
Once they knew that Hal and Mae were on their way, Gwen and Hugo raced to the window. The menacing shapes were still there, hovering several hundred feet up in the air. They were vaguely circular, cream colored, and if you squinted just right you could see mottled brown patches on their surfaces. “They DO look like giant tortillas,” said Gwen. “What do you think they want? And what is that one doing?” She pointed. Sure enough, a smallish one at the back of the formation was behaving oddly. When the rest of the Tortillas swooped left, this one went right, hovered a bit, and then raced to catch up with the others. When the Tortillas all bunched in close together, this one circled around the edge, at first trying to nudge his way in, but then drifting off to hover over a tree.
“Is it just me, or does that tortilla look like it’s trying to smell that pinecone?” said Gwen.
“That tortilla is flapjack nuts,” replied Hugo.
They watched as the crazy tortilla reached out, wrapped a bit of itself around the pinecone and gave a gentle tug. However, instead of the pinecone coming loose, an entire branch broke free and crashed to the ground, entangling the giant tortilla with it as it fell. The squadron of flying tortillas swooped away behind a hill, seemingly unaware of their fallen comrade. Gwen and Hugo exchanged looks. “Let’s go,” they said in unison.
Just then there was a screech of tires in the front entryway, as Mae drove a tiny car through the front door and slid to a halt. Hal looked up at Gwen and Hugo from his spot behind the driver’s seat. His eyes were huge and his fingers were white from clutching his hat to his head. “She’s been totally out of control ever since she learned to drive at Legoland,” he said. “But we did make record time. We must have been going 200,000,000 miles per hour!” Mae just looked at them with a wild gleam in her eye. “Well yes,” she said, “But I would like to experience 300,000,000.”
Gwen took charge immediately. “Get that car hidden and meet us in the backyard. We’ve got a rogue tortilla to question.”
Soon the four of them were crouched behind the backyard wall, staring up the hill into the trees. Hugo held his lightsaber at the ready. They could just see the tortilla thrashing underneath the branch. “He doesn’t look tooo tough,” said Hal. “Kind of fuzzy-looking, actually.”
“Hugo, you distract him,” directed Gwen. “The rest of us will sneak around and surprise him from behind.”
Hugo did a front flip over the wall, keeping the lightsaber poised out to the side. He then cartwheeled with one hand over a fallen log, spun in the air, did a figure-8 swoop with the lightsaber and landed, crouched next to where the tortilla lay struggling. Immediately the tortilla stopped wiggling and looked at Hugo. “Ay, carumba!” it squeaked. “That WAS impressive!”
Hugo looked down at it warily, both hands on the lightsaber, Samurai style. “If I let you up from there, are you going to attack me?” he asked. “Oh, goodness, No!” said the tortilla. “I’m a hugger, not a fighter.”
As Gwen, Mae, and Hal stepped out from behind the bushes, Hugo reached down and flipped the heavy branch off of the tortilla, who immediately nuzzled up next to Hugo. “My name is Larry,” he said, “and I’m the kind of tortilla who likes to snuggle.” Everyone relaxed their fighter stances. “Well it’s good to know you guys aren’t dangerous,” said Gwen.
“Oh, I’m not dangerous,” replied Larry, nodding towards the flying tortilla swarm, “But those guys are trying to kill you.”
In no time, Larry had filled them in on the evil plan of the Tortillas from Outer Space, which was, of course, to take over the world. Hal was suspicious. “Why don’t you want to take over the world too?” he asked.
“Oh, it just seems like so much work,” said Larry. “Do you guys know anywhere that I could take a nap?”
After they pointed Larry towards the couch, the four cousins had a huddle. Larry had told them that the tortillas planned to block out the sun, slowly but surely killing all of the plants on Earth. As they watched, the flying tortilla swarm zeroed on the passionfruit vine in the backyard, gathering themselves until they hovered directly over the plant. Hundreds of times denser than clouds, they completely blocked the sun’s rays. The kids could see the passionfruit vine slowly begin to shrivel up.
“Looks like we’re going to have to stop them the hard way,” said Gwen. “Mae, do your thing.”
Mae climbed on top of the wall and held her hands to the sky. Immediately the sound of thundering hooves could be heard, and seconds later a herd of unicorns raced into the sky above their heads, followed by streams of rainbows. One of the unicorns dipped lower than the rest of the herd. Mae took a running leap off of the wall and somersaulted onto the unicorn’s back as he swooped up to rejoin the others. Seemingly from nowhere a wand with a star on the end appeared in Mae’s hand. She pointed it at the passionfruit vine. “Go, go, Rainbow,” she ordered. The rainbows streaked across the sky and dove for the passionfruit plant. As their rays of light hit the leaves, the plant seemed to shiver with delight and immediately looked stronger. Meanwhile Mae and the unicorns were racing towards the thick blanket of flying tortillas. Swooping her wand back and forth she scattered the formation, sending tortillas flying off to each side where her unicorns were waiting to poke holes in them with their horns. “We’re not making a canoe out of you,” joked Mae.
While Mae and the Unicorns caused chaos in the clouds, Hal pulled his guitar out from where he always carried it slung across his back. As he struck a chord, several tortillas who had been about to sneak up on Mae from behind paused and turned back toward Hal, seemingly confused by the wall of sound. Hal quickly began to play the theme song to the Andy Griffith show. The cluster of tortillas looked caught up in the rhythm, jerking their flat bodies around in time to the music. Hal winked at Hugo. “I taught myself, you know,” he said. Hugo, generally serious during a fight, didn’t respond, but instead threw his lightsaber at the dancing tortillas. It flew end over end, rapidly slicing four of them each into 6 equal sized triangles, which fell out of the sky. Just as the saber’s momentum slowed, Hugo moved faster than the eye could follow, catching his weapon again just before it hit the ground. “Quesadilla time,” he said, with satisfaction.
“Quesadilla time?” laughed Gwen, appearing from inside the house where she had briefly disappeared. “That’s a terrible catchphrase, but I like what you’re thinking little brother.” With that she threw an entire pound of butter down on the hot concrete. It melted immediately and started to sizzle. Hal stopped playing his guitar and instead swung it at the closest invader, using it like a tennis racket and catching the tortilla right around the middle, slingshot-ing it down into the hot butter. The tortilla fried up immediately and Hugo quickly dispatched it into little triangles like the others. “Can you smell what the master chef Gwen is cooking?” crowed Gwen, as she gave Hugo and Hal a hug.
Mae noticed them from up above as she raced her unicorn army across the sky. “Sorry, no time to snuggle!” she called down, skewering yet another angry tortilla with her star wand. “But snuggling is one of my superpowers,” called Gwen. “Let me show you how it’s done!” With a leap she was onto the trampoline and bounced high into the sky where she scooped a flying tortilla into each arm and snuggled them close to her chest. The tortillas seemed just as susceptible to snuggling as they were to danceable music, and they went limp immediately. Gwen promptly dropped them in the pool.
In no time at all the tortilla army was completely disbanded and the Tortilla General asked for a conference with the four cousins. They met in the treehouse, with the unicorn army and a giant rainbow hovering overhead. Mae watched from the high branches of the tree where her unicorn had placed her. Gwen held a spatula in a menacing fashion. Hal played the opening notes to “A Final Countdown” on the guitar, and Hugo stepped forward, his lightsaber glowing green in his hand. “How come I feel like we’re doing all the work here?” he asked, holding the tip of the lightsaber under where he imagined the tortilla’s chin might be. “Tell us your plan to surrender.”
The chief tortilla bowed his edge slightly. “My name is Master Chen,” he said, “And I did not expect to meet such powerful resistance here on this planet. We will leave, but to keep our honor, we will take you with us, Young Warrior.” With this, he gestured towards Hugo. Gwen gasped. Hugo held up his hand to silence her, and took a step towards the looming flatbread. “NO.” He said, drawing out every word. “If you did that, my mom would Kill. You. Dead.”
Then he gestured towards Hal. “Tell him the plan, Hal.”
Hal stepped up. “Mercury is the smallest planet in the Solar System and the closest to the Sun. It’s orbit takes 87.9 Earth days, and its orbital eccentricity is the largest of all known planets in the Solar System. Mercury’s surface is heavily cratered, indicating that it has been geologically inactive for billions of years. Its surface temperatures vary diurnally more than any other planet in the system, ranging..”
“Hal, you’re not making a bit of sense,” said Gwen. “Skip ahead a bit.”
“We think you should go to Mercury,” said Hal. “I would challenge you to a guitar duel, but you would lose. Do you know why?”
“No.” said Master Chen.
“Because you don’t have any hands,” said Hal.
“Lose, lose, lose,” said Mae, from up on her perch.
As the tortillas left to Mercury the sun glinted off the heroic figures. Earth was safe once more.
"I want a weird peanut butter sandwich with gooey mayonnaise and beady-eyed pickles!" Hal yelled randomly.
"I don't know about you guys but I am ready for a nap." Gwen said yawning.
"Let's go snuggle with Larry." Hugo suggested.
As the hero's went inside, they met Vivian coming in from the driveway. "What have you guys been up to?" she asked. "And where did we get this new blanket?"
Tuesday, June 1, 2021
Assemblers, Assemble!
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| All hands on deck. |
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| There's always Levi in the banana stand |
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| Sunday in the park |
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| You wish there was audio with this one. |
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| Finished tilework. |
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| Smile if you like breakfast. |
Sunday, May 9, 2021
Mothers Day Gallery Walk: A Celebration of Sister Art
Perhaps this artwork is itself an answer to that question as it mirrors the great act of creation, with the artist’s hands bending nature to conformity. The chapel rests upon the straightest lines in the piece, as if gloating over man’s subjugation of the elements. And yet, those pieces are the most roughened, whereas when we move upwards in the picture the textures become smoother the closer we get to the comforting blue heavens. As the uplifted rock draws our eyes towards God, we are forced to face a discomforting question: is it possible that non-conformity is the true path to peace?
Next we see a work that at first glance appears light-hearted...
Is human interaction merely an ineffective balm for inevitable disaster? Do we all grasp ineffectually for youth, failing to realize we’re all plastic dolls in the grasp of destiny?
What is the meaning of art, if it can be imitated so easily? This parody turns dark as we consider that these figures have tried to make flesh of a two-dimensional image, but then so ironically have become two dimensional themselves. Are we all trapped in a hamster wheel of meaninglessness? Can any of us truly escape the flatness of being?
As age and youth turn their backs on each other in denial of mortality, a spilled urn leaks its lifeforce onto the floor and an empty boot presages death.
Why are we all not screaming in a corner?

A classic example of the Sierra High school of design, our third piece transports us to the tactile arts. This stunning vase oozes rugged individualism and immediately challenges the viewer's sense of self.
“I stand alone,” says this vase, secure in its sturdy isolationism. “I have no need to feign enthusiasm.”
Eschewing the traditional male/female silhouettes of conventional pottery, this piece refuses to be confined by gender norms. Indeed it laughingly taunts the viewer, male and female alike, with their own inevitable futures, asking,
“Are we not all destined to end up the same shape, thick around the middle?”

This furnace gives nothing away, leaving us unsettled. We are used to judging art, but this judges us, a tiny, dense, deity of gold and stone.
Our final piece, “Querencia,” makes the viewer a silent voyeur, frozen in time along with this moment. Who are these two women, and why does there seem to be no interaction between them? Our first impression is one of distance, and isolation even in togetherness. Just as the tiny pieces of paper that make up this image mirror the millions of grains of sand on the beach, do they also echo humanity? The grains are together, but always shifting, perhaps never connected in any meaningful way.
But then we notice the tilt of the bodies, and the relaxed posture of the shoulders. Instead of tension, we realize, there is comfort here. This is not an awkward silence, but a companionable one. Even as each woman is immersed in her own thoughts the two of them unconsciously lean together, survivors on the blanket that stretches like a liferaft on an uncertain ocean. We sense that although dark clouds gather on the horizon, these two are not alone. The bonds that connect them are almost visible, flushed out by hundreds of tiny pieces of memory and shared moments such as this one, perfect moment. The bits of paper in the mosaic are not shifting and random, they are carefully placed, glued together by history, and meaning, and love. The silent voyeur feels a pang of longing to have a relationship like this one, as deep as the sea.
“Querencia,” meaning a place from which one draws strength, where one feels at home. What a gift it is, to be these women, forged together, come what may.
Tuesday, March 30, 2021
The PB&J Fight of 2007
Last weekend Carrie was making a sandwich for Hugo and she told a story about how she and Claire once got into an argument about the best way to make a PB&J. Carrie thought it was better to put both the PB and the J on one of the pieces of bread and mix 'em together, while Claire advocated for PB on one side, J on the other. We all laughed and agreed Claire was definitely the winner of that debate.
Three days later I got an email from Gmail saying that I was running out of storage in my account, so I started sorting through my oldest emails and deleting many. Well guess what I found in an email from Claire way back in 2007? This amazing picture of pregnant Carrie inspecting two PB&J sandwiches on a hike with Claire:
Caption from the original email from Claire: "That morning, we were making lunch, and Carrie and I had a little 'discussion' or 'argument' about the correct way to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. So, this is a picture of Carrie closely examining the sandwiches to determine which one looks better to eat. (Turns out mine looked better, but I'm pretty sure it's because I used more jelly.)"
It really made me laugh to have photo evidence of Carrie so completely invested in her analysis during the now-famous PB&J debate of 2007. Thanks for documenting this moment, Claire. I wonder if you had any inkling that 14 years later this moment would live on!
Sunday, November 29, 2020
"Whatever it is, it just landed on my pants"- Thanksgiving 2020
Hal uttered the above sentence while trying to figure out what he was eating during Dining in the Dark at the Gregory's, and it's a good metaphor for Thanksgiving this year, when everything was confusing but somehow still happened nonetheless.
From the Unsocial Media #givethanks Wall, here are some things we were thankful for:
Mom and DadcookieswifiparkslemonsAndre "Ice Cold" 3000planesHal and Mae are friendsApolloHalSnowHot Chocolatefamily is 'not too stuffy'CatsSt LuciaJohn MulaneysunshineOur houseveggie kabobscomedymeringuetake-out heroes
The Lawrences hosted Sarah, Mom, and Rachel, and ate cinnamon roll apple pie. They also played Catholic trivia (St Francis!) and Colin passed on the stuffing. ("I just can't.")
The Thomases hosted Rachel, Dad and Kathy, and renovated a bathroom.
Everyone played a lot of Among Us, and there was lying and murdering aplenty, as well as general familial affection. Even Mae joined in. ("I was in the hallway, and then I saw the body.")
We subverted our feelings of missing family into making an excessive amount of pie. At the Gregory's this included: 2 pumpkin, 2 chocolate, 2 lemon, apple, peach rhubarb, and berry cream. Also Claire and Gordon made an incredible Pear Gouda Dutch Baby. If you've never eaten a Dutch baby, you really should.
What else?
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From the first rumble of the RV in the driveway, we knew it would be a Thanksgiving to remember. We had some memorable outings, but it was the pleasantness of the slow days that really were enjoyable.
Most days began with morning tea time on the patio followed by work/play/projects depending on the person. Then in the evenings we would reconvene for dinner and hangout time. With some times a fire in the firepit, guitar by Jerry, or a Netflix comedy special.
Thanksgiving meal included 3 appetizers, ham, turkey, all the sides, and 7 pies. Rachel and I let out a sigh of relief when dad gave the rhubarb pie a thumbs up and took the leftovers with him. Kathy made a lovely and funny turkey appetizer platter.
Virus-safe outings: trip to Anza Borrego state park to see metal statues. Firepit on the beach (thanks Beth!). Trip to San Diego Mission for Gwen's 4th grade mission studies.
Home projects: eject she'll sink and bamboo wallpaper. Paint walls, install countertop, new sink, new mirror.
Dad did all the wiring to install two new lights and a darkness sensor so that they turn on automatically. After he was done, we had an ice cream party on the front lawn at 4:45 to watch them turn on. There was much rejoicing.



















































