It is March 5th. My father would have been 67 today. He died of cancer 10 years ago this month.
Ken McNeill was the Public Affairs Officer for Naval Station Treasure Island for 20 years. When you see a photo of the San Francisco skyline taken with the Bay Bridge in the foreground shot between 1979 and 1999, chances are good he wrote the permit for it. He edited the base newspaper, The Masthead, did the layout in the days before pagemaker, most of the photos and wrote most of the content, too.
He was my dad. After he retired, I'd get a mid-day phone call from time to time: "Oh, nothing's up. I just needed to talk to someone intelligent." I think that may have been one of the greatest compliments I've ever been paid. We'd talk about food, books, music, politics. He always whistled when he cooked, and every recipe started with "first you fry the onions."
You always knew you were in for a long conversation with my dad when he busted out the record player (or the cd player in later years, because he loved his technogadgets) and started playing songs for you. "*pause* Did you hear the lyrics there? Isn't that amazing? Let me play it again." It had a tendency to happen when I really needed to leave to drive home half an hour ago, and I can't say how much I wish I could turn back time just once, and blow off work the next day to spend the night listening to Joan Baez, Harry Chapin, and Hoyt Axton.
He was the king of garage sales and thrift stores, and he could always find the most amazing things. He loved to shop, and loved a bargain, but he also understood, and taught me, the concept of paying for quality, and that 'cheap' and 'good value' are not synonomous.
He was shy and bold at the same time - in social gatherings, you'd find him dodging the masses by being cross-legged on the floor with the dogs, the cats, or the kids. But he would muster the courage to ask for the craziest things - a spot for his kids to be extras in a movie, a chance to camp out in a civil war reenactor's tent, tours of nuclear submarines - and so I got to have experiences that most people never imagine.
He was silly. I remember one time (in the days before cell phones) that I had been sent to the store to get something. After I left, someone realized we needed something else, and he also got sent to the store. He then stood in the produce section and pelted me with pinto beans until I turned around. He climbed on EVERYTHING - rocks, fountains, boulders, fireplaces in 5 star restaurants. No, I am not kidding.
He loved potatoes and rice and bread, could take or leave meat. He adored chocolate and Coca-Cola, and curried tunafish, hated broccoli, lentils and asparagus, loved lima beans, tomatoes, and brussels sprouts. He was a poster child for brand loyalty: Victorinox, Rubbermaid, Toblerone, and Volkswagen.
He took me camping, skiing, canoeing, taught me to grow tomatoes, and how to compose a photo. He taught me how to develop and process photos too, back in the days before digital cameras. He taught me how to communicate effectively in spoken and written English, and he spoke and wrote in French just as well. He loved languge, words, poetry, and literature, but he also had a passion for science, technology and mathematics.
I'm sad. Sad that he never got to meet his granddaughter, sad I lost him so young. I'm sad every time I see a new bit of technology he would have loved, sad he never had the chance to carry a smart-phone with the Encyclopedia Brittanica and the internet in his pocket. I'm sad he's gone, because in a lot of ways, he was the glue that stuck my family together.
I miss him. I miss him Every. Single. Day. I cry sometimes, because I can't remember the tune he whistled when he cooked. I miss the one person that would drag himself out of bed at 2 in the morning to help me find my cats when the obsessive compulsions got to be too much, the person who would take me to the all night bookstore when I couldn't sleep. I miss the late night shopping trips the night before Christmas. I miss his silly out-of-tune piano, and his never-out-of-tune guitar. It's been 10 years, and I still catch myself thinking I should call him.
I miss you, Dad. Happy Birthday. I love you.
Ken McNeill was the Public Affairs Officer for Naval Station Treasure Island for 20 years. When you see a photo of the San Francisco skyline taken with the Bay Bridge in the foreground shot between 1979 and 1999, chances are good he wrote the permit for it. He edited the base newspaper, The Masthead, did the layout in the days before pagemaker, most of the photos and wrote most of the content, too.
He was my dad. After he retired, I'd get a mid-day phone call from time to time: "Oh, nothing's up. I just needed to talk to someone intelligent." I think that may have been one of the greatest compliments I've ever been paid. We'd talk about food, books, music, politics. He always whistled when he cooked, and every recipe started with "first you fry the onions."
You always knew you were in for a long conversation with my dad when he busted out the record player (or the cd player in later years, because he loved his technogadgets) and started playing songs for you. "*pause* Did you hear the lyrics there? Isn't that amazing? Let me play it again." It had a tendency to happen when I really needed to leave to drive home half an hour ago, and I can't say how much I wish I could turn back time just once, and blow off work the next day to spend the night listening to Joan Baez, Harry Chapin, and Hoyt Axton.
He was the king of garage sales and thrift stores, and he could always find the most amazing things. He loved to shop, and loved a bargain, but he also understood, and taught me, the concept of paying for quality, and that 'cheap' and 'good value' are not synonomous.
He was shy and bold at the same time - in social gatherings, you'd find him dodging the masses by being cross-legged on the floor with the dogs, the cats, or the kids. But he would muster the courage to ask for the craziest things - a spot for his kids to be extras in a movie, a chance to camp out in a civil war reenactor's tent, tours of nuclear submarines - and so I got to have experiences that most people never imagine.
He was silly. I remember one time (in the days before cell phones) that I had been sent to the store to get something. After I left, someone realized we needed something else, and he also got sent to the store. He then stood in the produce section and pelted me with pinto beans until I turned around. He climbed on EVERYTHING - rocks, fountains, boulders, fireplaces in 5 star restaurants. No, I am not kidding.
He loved potatoes and rice and bread, could take or leave meat. He adored chocolate and Coca-Cola, and curried tunafish, hated broccoli, lentils and asparagus, loved lima beans, tomatoes, and brussels sprouts. He was a poster child for brand loyalty: Victorinox, Rubbermaid, Toblerone, and Volkswagen.
He took me camping, skiing, canoeing, taught me to grow tomatoes, and how to compose a photo. He taught me how to develop and process photos too, back in the days before digital cameras. He taught me how to communicate effectively in spoken and written English, and he spoke and wrote in French just as well. He loved languge, words, poetry, and literature, but he also had a passion for science, technology and mathematics.
I'm sad. Sad that he never got to meet his granddaughter, sad I lost him so young. I'm sad every time I see a new bit of technology he would have loved, sad he never had the chance to carry a smart-phone with the Encyclopedia Brittanica and the internet in his pocket. I'm sad he's gone, because in a lot of ways, he was the glue that stuck my family together.
I miss him. I miss him Every. Single. Day. I cry sometimes, because I can't remember the tune he whistled when he cooked. I miss the one person that would drag himself out of bed at 2 in the morning to help me find my cats when the obsessive compulsions got to be too much, the person who would take me to the all night bookstore when I couldn't sleep. I miss the late night shopping trips the night before Christmas. I miss his silly out-of-tune piano, and his never-out-of-tune guitar. It's been 10 years, and I still catch myself thinking I should call him.
I miss you, Dad. Happy Birthday. I love you.
1) Stop moping. As awesome as the highs of BayCon were (and our Dresden Files LARP was everything I dreamed it could be and then some), it is not a tragedy that 
firestrike has not made me blush and sputter since Monday night, nor is it fair to unfavorably compare my sofa to maiandra's shoulder. Besides, for a change I'm not done with conventions for the year. Many of my favorite people are going to Worldcon in August. I love my normal life, with my somewhat shabby but comfortable house, my infuriatingly stubborn smart-ass child, my husband who makes me coffee even though I yelled at him last night, my garden full of toads and bugs and growing things, the kitten that is tucked under my chin chewing on my hand, the beans simmering in the crockpot. Yeah, yesterday sucked. That doesn't mean today will.
2) Finish tying up my tomatoes (no, that is not a euphemism).
3) Harvest cherries, strawberries, peas.
4) Go to Target, replace laundry baskets, go to Trader Joe's, buy food.
5) Make strawberry jam (the apricots need to sit a few more days).
6) Make cherry barbecue sauce. (I snagged 5 pounds of sweet cherries for $5 at the farmer's market yesterday. I don't think we can eat them all before they go bad, I still have a bunch of frozen pitted cherries from the 15 pounds I picked last year, but barbecue sauce freezes well).
7) Take K out to practice bike-riding before it starts raining again.
8) Havetiggrrl and her little one over for dinner.
firestrike has not made me blush and sputter since Monday night, nor is it fair to unfavorably compare my sofa to maiandra's shoulder. Besides, for a change I'm not done with conventions for the year. Many of my favorite people are going to Worldcon in August. I love my normal life, with my somewhat shabby but comfortable house, my infuriatingly stubborn smart-ass child, my husband who makes me coffee even though I yelled at him last night, my garden full of toads and bugs and growing things, the kitten that is 2) Finish tying up my tomatoes (no, that is not a euphemism).
3) Harvest cherries, strawberries, peas.
4) Go to Target, replace laundry baskets, go to Trader Joe's, buy food.
5) Make strawberry jam (the apricots need to sit a few more days).
6) Make cherry barbecue sauce. (I snagged 5 pounds of sweet cherries for $5 at the farmer's market yesterday. I don't think we can eat them all before they go bad, I still have a bunch of frozen pitted cherries from the 15 pounds I picked last year, but barbecue sauce freezes well).
7) Take K out to practice bike-riding before it starts raining again.
8) Have
tiggrrl and her little one over for dinner.Four wheelbarrows full of landscaping rock from around the bases of our cherry and nectarine trees have been relocated to my mother's house. About a quart of worm castings (with a few worms and a handful of the clover we uprooted getting the rock out) and 5 gallons of soil conditioner were applied to the base of each tree, and they've been mulched to about 4 inches deep with shredded bark. I think that the trees are going to be happier this way. Now to do the same to the apricot, fig, apple and lemon. The plum's well established and doesn't seem to mind the rock as much, though the eventual goal is to replace the rock out front with mulch and the ornamentals with edibles.
Today should have been my father's 66th birthday. I don't think I can really sum things up better than I did 2 years ago, so I'll just repeat myself.
Still love you. Still miss you more than words can say.
It's March 5th. Today should have been my father's (66)th birthday. We should be packing Kaia up to spend the day at Grandma and Grandpa's house, and he should be able to play his guitar or his horribly out of tune piano for her, read her stories, play silly games, and generally let her wrap him around her little finger. Instead, he died before she was born, and all I have for her is stories.
Ken McNeill Jr. was born in Dallas, Texas, but spent most of his childhood in Geneva, Switzerland. He was brilliant, funny, playful, strong, and could outrun all the kids in the neighborhood. In a gathering of people, he was most likely to be found sitting cross-legged on the floor, playing with the kids, the dogs or the cats. He hated coffee, loved Coca-Cola, and was much more interested in potatoes than steak. His favorite vegetables were brussels sprouts and lima beans, he detested broccoli and asparagus.
He was a super-champion garage sale master, and could scrounge the most fascinating stuff. He was a poster-child of brand loyalty - the Victorinox Swiss Army knife, Volkswagons, anything published by DK or Oxford press. A bibliophile and a lexiophile, he owned over 30 dictionaries. In addition to his passionate love of the English language, poetry and fiction, he also loved science, technology and mathematics. He loved to play soccer and basketball, skiing, boating, camping, and hiking.
When he died (9) years ago this month, part of me was glad. The pain and the confusion were too much for him, and I didn't want him to hurt anymore. But there's a hole in my life where he should be, and it isn't fair.
Still love you. Still miss you more than words can say.
- Current Mood:
sad - Current Music:Harry Chapin "Flowers Are Red"
Someone smashed the driver's side window on our 85 VW last night. Luckily enough, our regular mechanic had a salvaged window in stock, they don't make them anymore. Nothing was missing, but that was $100 that we hadn't budgeted to spend.
Kaia upended a cup of coffee onto David's computer this morning (immediately unplugged and left to dry, we're going to let it be for a few days before assessing the damage).
Terrapin (David's new cat) was in heat (6 months old! Still has baby teeth!) so she cost extra to spay.
This is on top of feelings of inadequacy and failure, seven second and third degree burns up my right arm, a really bad cut on my left thumb, and just a general low level anxiety and melancholy that has had me on the edge of tears for a few days now. I've been gloomy enough that even going out to see friends in the Bay Area this weekend didn't really cheer me up. I'm going to go curl up under a blanket and hide now.
ETA: No, now I'm going to go into the kitchen and drop the chef's knife in such a way that I wind up stabbing myself in the leg. It's only bleeding a little.
Kaia upended a cup of coffee onto David's computer this morning (immediately unplugged and left to dry, we're going to let it be for a few days before assessing the damage).
Terrapin (David's new cat) was in heat (6 months old! Still has baby teeth!) so she cost extra to spay.
This is on top of feelings of inadequacy and failure, seven second and third degree burns up my right arm, a really bad cut on my left thumb, and just a general low level anxiety and melancholy that has had me on the edge of tears for a few days now. I've been gloomy enough that even going out to see friends in the Bay Area this weekend didn't really cheer me up. I'm going to go curl up under a blanket and hide now.
ETA: No, now I'm going to go into the kitchen and drop the chef's knife in such a way that I wind up stabbing myself in the leg. It's only bleeding a little.
- Current Mood: gloomy
This utter and complete meltdown panic attack brought to you by kitchen accident number 3 in as many days. At least this one did not cause me to wonder if I need go to the ER. In fact, this one did not even involve a physical injury. But I need my coffee pot, dammit.
- Current Mood:
distressed
While I've had an absolutely wonderful weekend, the insane pace has worn me out, and I have hit the point of falling down exhausted.
So my wonderful David has sent me to bed early and taken over parenting for the night. Can I keep him?
So my wonderful David has sent me to bed early and taken over parenting for the night. Can I keep him?
- Get a locker.
- Bring lots of water and a full change of clothes, two changes for the kids.
- Bring unmessy snacks to feed your kids while waiting in line - we like dried fruit, nuts, edamame, Luna, Clif and Z bars, and sliced apples. Whole grain crackers and baby carrots are good too. Chances are your child is going to be too excited to eat a sitting-down meal, and finger food snacks while waiting in lines will keep blood sugar up and help prevent meltdowns. Won't hurt the parents either.
- Wear good shoes and a hat, dress in layers.
- Follow your kids' lead, don't have an agenda.
- Give them their own spending money for treats and souvenirs.
- Write your cell number on your small child's arm in sharpie marker in case you get separated.
- Show your child what a Cast Member name badge looks like as soon as you get to the park, and let them know that any CM will be glad to help them find you if you get separated.
- A stroller draped with a jacket makes a good place to take a nap, and while the kid is sleeping, use the single rider line to take turns on Splash Mountain.
- Fast Pass and rider switch passes are your friends.
- Put your cellphone in a zip top bag on wet rides. Should you fail to do this, make sure that you know your party's other cell numbers or have them written somewhere. City Hall will let you call from there if your phone fails, but if the numbers are all in the cell phone, this does you no good. Good thing that you wrote them on your kid, huh?
- Use a trash bag inside your backpack to keep snacks, extra layers and cameras dry.
- Other items that I've been glad to have: safety pins, extra camera batteries, Kleenex, unscented hand sanitizer, lip balm, moleskin.
Today has been a marvellous day filled with gourds and goats and frogs and friends.
1 can chickpeas, rinsed, drained, and mashed with a fork
1 apple, diced (I used a Gala, but I suspect a Fuji or a honeycrisp would be good too)
1 stalk celery, diced
1/4 yellow onion, finely diced
1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
1/2 tsp dried rubbed sage
1/3 cup veganaise
handful of raisins
I cannot describe how wonderful this tastes. It's crunchy, sweet, savory and exactly what I was wanting for this afternoon's picnic in a pumpkin patch.
1 apple, diced (I used a Gala, but I suspect a Fuji or a honeycrisp would be good too)
1 stalk celery, diced
1/4 yellow onion, finely diced
1/2 tsp Old Bay seasoning
1/2 tsp dried rubbed sage
1/3 cup veganaise
handful of raisins
I cannot describe how wonderful this tastes. It's crunchy, sweet, savory and exactly what I was wanting for this afternoon's picnic in a pumpkin patch.
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