Happy Solstice!

since this is toby's second solstice, we now have some established traditions. according to last years solstice post, apparently we open presents, then have some wine and a bath. I guess the wine and bath will wait until later, at least until sometime after noon, but Toby got started on a couple presents this morning. his paternal grandparents "Baba" and "Jiji" contributed to toby's growing obsession with Totoro by giving him a Totoro towel. Similarly, Toby's maternal grandmother has added to his collection of melody cards as well as his college fund. Gifts from both sides are featured, along with some surprisingly rhythmic knee slapping, in this brand spankin' new video of Toby.

toby of the day, 11.30.2008

Toby has had a number of loves so far during his short time with us. There was the black halogen lamp, the blue lamp, the American analog set poster, Mr. Cow. There are still owls, phones, dogs and pumpkins. But right now, on top of it all, there are balls. There is a corner store at the end of our street (eddie’s discount liquors) that has three baskets of balls that they set out every day. And every time we leave the house, toby is ready to sprint down the hill to find them. We can’t go anywhere near that corner without spending at least a few minutes while he tries to fish a ball out of one of those baskets. Of course, eddie’s doesn’t have a monopoly on balls. In fact, like pumpkins, they’re everywhere. Especially when you can’t tell the difference between something that is simply spherical, such as a decorative stone finial on a handrail or a round glass ornament, and a ball which might be suitable to throw or kick. Yesterday we purchased a ball that is full of water and glitter that shake around like a snow globe when you throw it. It’s actually quite awesome. But still, jon and I did eventually tire of hearing about it. it was all he could talk about in the store, and on the walk home, and after we reached home. and then once we got it home, he would cradle it in his hand like some sort of magic gem before hurling it across the room and screaming “a ball”. I think that is my favorite part, actually. While he may not yet have the vocabulary or prefrontal cortex of a modern human, and while he is sure to break something in short shrift because he cannot catch the ball after he sends it ricocheting around the room, by adding that ‘a’, he is telling us that he is sophisticated, cultured, ready for us to acknowledge his arrival as a person. Of course, we’ll know he’s really arrived at personhood when he calls it ‘my ball’.

toby of the day, thanksgiving

Today, we had Isaac, Mai and Steve over for squab and an array of vegetables. Jon and I have “discussed” squab for a couple weeks now, mostly I’ve been insisting that we had guinea fowl last year on thanksgiving, and jon says we had squab, and I then insist that we have never had squab, and he says that yes we have, we had it last year, for thanksgiving. Historically, I would have been correct. In fact, much of my irritating stubbornness in cases like this results from having a weirdly precise memory with regards to random and insignificant facts. However, it turns out that I have lost my touch. There, in our wine notes in my own handwriting, is a description of our dinner (squab and a light curry sauce) and our wine (white burgundy, tasting like earth and fruits) last thanksgiving. This is unfortunate since I have no memory capacity for other things (the names of people that I meet, anything that has to do with my job), so my ability to remember random information is all I’ve got. Jon may feel that he has won the battle, but I think in the end he’ll miss it when he asks me if I remember the name of someone we met at a party and I respond by telling him what color socks I was wearing. Regardless, the squab was tasty, the company friendly, and “trapped in the closet” chapters 13-22 were ridiculous. It gave us much to be thankful for.

(photos courtesy of Mai)

Operation bring home the bacon Part 3: bringing that bacon home

Today: Imperial palace, food market shopping street, curry udon lunch, sanjusangendo, train back to KIX airport in Osaka, 7 hours awaiting my profoundly delayed flight, 7 hours sleeping in my empty row on the plane, and then I was home. well almost, I went directly from the airport to meet jon and toby at a birthday party. I gave toby a bottle cap with an owl in it that I had saved from my beer. He promptly lost it, but regardless he seemed happy to have me back. That was on a Saturday. By Tuesday, while they were interviewing the remaining 8 candidates for the position, I was in bed fighting off a cold. And by Thursday morning, 5 days after my return, I opened my mail, and there in my inbox was ‘the bacon’ if you will. They sure don’t dawdle there at Kyoto University. Toby will be so pleased since this means he could live in the land of rice, nori, and tofu. Of course, it also means that he could be farther away from the land of penne and pumpkins. And we would be far, far away from the people and places we hold dear. But, while I still consider becoming an industry puppet to be my dream job, I couldn’t ask for a better back up plan if all else falls through. Kansai, here we come! maybe.

Operation bring home the bacon Part 2: bacon acquired

So I made it to Kyoto and the next day, powered by salad, pickles, and rice from the hotel breakfast I found the university. It was full of parked bicycles but strangely quiet and I was sure that some sort of plague or alien had swept in and destroyed all the humans. But I continued on and gave my talk, which I ended by saying “okini” which I’ve been told is kansai dialect for “thanks a lot!” When I said this, the twelve-man panel, who were all vigorously nodding and note taking throughout my talk, laughed and clapped, and I sighed with relief. I was pretty sure I would screw up and say “oniki” or “oishi” or it would turn out that the postdoc that told me to say okini was really just trying to sabotage my chances and so my talk would be met with the sound of crickets rather than clapping. But it all went extremely well, and after some deft question answering, I headed across the street to gather the envelope of money covering my plane fare. A friendly biochemist showed me around the lab space, and I chatted briefly with a young assistant professor who I promptly intimidated somehow (I’m like 5’4” in heels, so I guess it's understandable). While I learned very little about the position, department, or university, I did discover that you have to change shoes when you arrive at work, and you actually have to change them again when you go into some special rooms. I’ve never dropped anything dangerous on my feet in the lab, but I’m confident that once I’m walking around in slippers I will begin to do so almost immediately. Fortunately, as a guest, I didn’t have to change shoes (except of course when I went into the special rooms) so my powers of intimidation were intact throughout my tour. And that was it. I left, ate some ramen, went to kiyomizudera to see the momiji in their autumn colors, ate oyakodonburi, went to the hotel onsen, had a beer in my room, watched some Japanese game shows, and fell asleep.

Operation bring home the bacon Part 1: the long trip to the store

Earlier this month, I was invited to interview at Kyoto University. Jon and I have sent out more applications than we can shake a stick at, so it is incredibly reassuring to have heard a response from one of them. now at least we know some of those applications must have gotten to their destinations. My interview is scheduled for 30 minutes on a Friday. I’ve tried to determine if it is just my talk that is scheduled to be 30 minutes or the entire interview, which seems terribly peculiar but at the same time, terribly possible. That means that pretty much I’m flying for 21 hours to give a 20 minute talk (and take 10 minutes of questions). It also means that I will be away from toby for 3 full days and nights, a first. And that jon will be alone with toby for 3 full nights, also a first. I think this will be a challenge for both of us, but I have to admit, I am looking forward to 11 hours on a plane without a restless toddler on my lap.

this second photo is of my hotel room. I feel like they could have found a slightly larger picture for that wall.

toby of the day, 11.15.2008

Today, we went to the beach. I know it’s November, but it’s been unseasonably warm lately. In fact, I think with the current cold front hitting florida, it might be the same temperature there and here. Anyway, in preparation for the beach I packed a blanket to sit on, some plastic cups and spoon to dig with, some water and snacks, and a sun hat. Because the pacific ocean is always very, very cold, there are a number of things I never thought to bring: bathing suit, towel, change of clothes. Mostly, I imagined jon and I sitting on the blanket, maybe having a beer, while toby dug around in the sand. Then we’d make our way down the beach to the park chalet for more beer. Instead, toby seemed unfazed by the freezing temperature of the water, and rather than wanting to sit and dig in a dry area reasonable for a blanket, he preferred to sprint after the receding waves like our own little plover to pick up handfuls of muddy sand. Which wasn’t too bad until he did a face plant into an oncoming wave. And even then, toby seemed to think that was fine, a perfect opportunity to take off his chafing clothes. So there he was, wet, covered in sand, wearing just a diaper that was itself probably full of sand, running in and out of the water. He was pretty ecstatic, it was just jon and I who saw this all as an invitation to pneumonia, or at least all the more reason to move closer to that beer. So we packed him up and headed to the park chalet where I washed him off in the bathroom sink, dried him with our blanket, and dressed him in a sweatshirt, jon’s wool hat, and a skirt fashioned out of the breastfeeding cover we keep in the backpack. He looked lovely. Especially after we got our pitcher.

toby of the day, halloween

I believe I’ve mentioned previously that Halloween is my favorite holiday, in part because I really like to make stuff. I like the planning part and the construction part, and I even like the moment in the construction where you think that your planning must have been just craziness because this is obviously never going to work, and then I especially like the following part when it turns out that it will work and thank goodness for all that planning. Anyway, I feel as though last year at this time our lives were like some unassembled piece of Swedish furniture sitting in your living room, a pile of wood slabs, bolts, allen wrenches, and a little paper brochure just waiting for you to sleep off your hangover enough to make sense of them, but somehow you never quite do. Consequently, although it made me somewhat disappointed, the best I could muster last year was to send toby off to day care in t-shirt with a monkey on it. This year, we seem to have built that piece of furniture, and while there are a bunch of extra screws and it’s a little lopsided, it seems vaguely functional. The point I’m trying to make is that, what with all the sleeping we’ve been doing, this year I managed to make toby a costume, an owl costume. On Sunday, I took him to a party at the gymnastics place next to his day care where he enjoyed running around and managed not to get crushed by any wayward gymnasts. And then on Halloween proper we went trick or treating in cole valley. Because toby hasn’t the slightest idea what candy is, he spent most of his time pointing out pumpkins, which he pronounces as mummins. You have no idea how many pumpkins there are on the street this time of year, and toby knows the location of them all, and screams in delight whenever we pass near them, “mummins!” Naturally, people think that he has confused that round, orange squash with his mother and shake their heads with a look of pity, but I know he knows what he’s talking about, and that if I were in a line-up with assorted pumpkins, even if they were carved and decorated, I think he could tell us apart. Except of course when I’m wearing a giant orange mumu, but I reserve that for very special occasions, so it’s mostly not an issue. anyway, you can see lots more pictures on flickr using the link on the right.