17-year periodical cicadas!

As I mentioned the other day, something really exciting happened: I found a (dead) 17-year periodical cicada (on the lid of our recycling bins). When we went to the Kansas Sampler Festival, we found out that this was the year! that they were coming out, I totally lost any sense of composure. 

Well, somehow I managed to keep my cool on Sunday and brought this baby home. Michael proceeded to take these pictures. It was pretty exciting and we've been happily listening to the cicadas singing since we first realised they were out. 

The periodicals are smaller than the cicadas that we saw last year - they are out too. Cicadas are little sound bites from home. Their songs are reassuring, even if they are different. I'm still in disbelief that we're here and the periodicals are out.... 

When I first heard about them in a seminar, way back in 2007 towards the end of my Honours year, I thought they were amazing and knew that I wanted to see them, but I didn't investigate the issues of "when?" and "where?" because I was overwhelmed by life at the time - my siblings were overseas, the family dog had been euthanized, Honours was coming to an end, and I was moving to Samoa for a year... So, yeah, I put the information about the periodical cicadas in a safe place and kept going with the daily business of life.

And now I've seen them and so has Michael. Most likely, Jimmy will not remember them, but we have pictures to prove that he was next to this (dead) 17-year periodical while Daddy was taking some pretty pictures. I feel like being here, while these periodical are coming out, is us witnessing part of history: we can't control it; we have helped record it; and we are unlikely to ever see it again.

And if you're wondering: this cicada is a female 17-year periodical; the periodicals should be around and singing for a wonderful 4 weeks; Michael and I enjoying it.

Over the weekend we...

Didn't get up to much over the weekend. It didn't rain, even though a storm passed just to the north of Manhattan in the very early hours of Saturday morning - so Saturday involved catching up on some rest and sleep.

We spent a few hours at the pool over the course of the two days - it's been hot, and humid after a few weeks of rain and storms, and the pool provides a nice escape, even if the concrete is very hot.

Everything is green beyond belief. For this Queenslander, it feels like we're living in an irrigated field, only green is the default for this time of year. The number of storms we've had in the last few weeks are not normal, once every 10 or so years according to one local.

There may have been a close-call with the sourdough starter. I was prepared to let it go, but Michael's response said it all "What?! And eat marshmallow [bread]?" and so, it has been saved and I am amazed at what can come from less than half a teaspoon of starter.

I spent a little time fixing my favourite backpack, although I didn't end up using the fabric. The time was well worth it, because I'm not ready to replace my Deuter Act Trail yet - it's starting to develop that lovely smell of old tents (and mildew) and at eight years old, it's still looking good.

The best thing to happen all weekend is getting its own post, so stay tuned.

23/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2015

Jimmy: Ready for the pool!

Thanks to Michael for taking this one on his GoPro as we were heading to the pool this afternoon.

And yes, we have our Swimmy-Jimmy back! The pool has been open for two weeks now, but for the first week the water wasn't really warm enough for a little boy to enjoy it. The last week has seen the rain and storms decrease in frequency, the humidity has been high and the heat feels like high-summer, even though it's only just getting started...

And Jimmy has started swimming again! He's still a little unsure of the water, but his confidence in the water is growing, and he just loves the exercise of getting out of the apartment.

Here's to a Swimmy-Jimmy summer!

One for the Scrabble board: furlough...

From the Free Dictionary:

Furlough (fûr′lō)n.

1.

a. A leave of absence or vacation, especially one granted to a member of the armed forces.

b. A usually temporary layoff from work.

c. A temporary leave of absence granted to a prisoner under special circumstances, such as the need to attend the funeral of a family member, or for a special purpose, such as participation in a work program.

2. The papers or documents authorizing a leave: The soldiers had their furloughs in their breast pockets. 

Until Thursday this week, I had never heard this word, neither had Michael, and yet it has been added to our vernacular because the Kansas State government is implementing one, starting Sunday, due to budget shortfalls and the budget not passing before the new fiscal year.

So, this means a "temporary layoff from work" for all non-essential State employees, until the budget is passed. This could be more than 30 days of forced leave-without-pay for these non-essential workers. And this particular furlough is unusual because there are usually 30 days notice before one is implemented.

We are fortunate enough that Michael will not be furloughed - his funding comes from Kansas State. I know we wouldn't be able to stay here if Michael were furloughed for more than two weeks.

My heart goes out to the 24,000+ people waiting for the news on Sunday night, the news that the budget has been passed, so that they can go to work on Monday. It seems unfair to penalise those who can least afford it - the politicians are not taking pay cuts to help with monetary shortfalls. I know this sort of thing would not happen in Australia, at least, it wouldn't be quite so explicit.

Just in: a bill has been passed, although yet to be signed by the Kansas State Governor, preventing the furlough from taking place. At least for the next two weeks.

A matter of personal taste...

A few months back I moved Jimmy clothes around in his set of hanging shelves, because it was time to give him access to the clothes he wears daily.

Why? Well...

Jimmy is a headstrong little boy, has been since the get-go, and we deal with it by letting him have his way when it is safe for him to do what he wants. And this extends to clothes.

We started by offering him a choice of two tops, followed by two pants, and we would ask him to choose which one he wanted to wear. And it worked for a while: getting him dressed didn't take too long, and he could feel he had some say in the matter. Win-win.

Some days the result was rather coordinated and subdued, and on other days the result was fun and loud.

There would be occasional day when we might ask Jimmy what colour top he wanted to wear. He would say "green!" because it was the colour he could say at the time, so we would get him a green top.

"No green top!"

"What colour top do you want to wear?"

"Blue."

"Ok, here's a blue top."

"No, not that blue top."

This exchange would continue another round or two or more, usually ending with Jimmy actually wearing an orange or red top. He may or may not have actually wanted to wear the orange or red top, but after 5 minutes going through each and every top in his collection, and explaining that the other red top was dirty and in the wash, we had to settle for something.

So, these days Jimmy mostly chooses his own clothes. This results in some interesting outcomes. He's a toddler and it's allowed. Actually, I think it's expected. The photo at the top of this entry shows three outfits and the ones on the left and the right are ones I had picked out for Jimmy, a few days before taking the photo. The outfit in the middle is all Jimmy. Clearly that lovely warm jumper is a "top".

Jimmy likes strips, bright colours, prints, and anything with pockets. He's not afraid to wear red with coral, he doesn't mind if his pants are turning into capris, and his go-to shoes are his dinosaur gum rain boots. He's quite happy to wear his rain coat when it's cool and windy, but he doesn't like how his hat flops over his eyes. 

I'm not beyond vetoing Jimmy's selections. The lovely warm jumper? Vetoed - Jimmy would have been far too hot that day. But for the most part, Jimmy has pretty good taste, even if what he wants to wear is not what I would have picked. And that's ok, because he's allowed to dress however he wants - he's the one wearing the clothes.

Over the weekend we...

Bought Jimmy some new-to-him shoes, because the ones I bought a few weeks ago were actually already a little small, and I'm fairly certain that he's had a growth spurt.

We visited our favourite op thrift shops, hoping to find something suitable: size 7 sandals, in any colour.

Our first stop resulted in no shoes for Jimmy, but I found a dress and Michael found a cool little puzzle. We walked through Dillards (the one here reminds me of the Toowong David Jones store), poked our heads into GapKids to see what was within our price range (nothing, once we factored in tax, although I'd love to get Jimmy these).

We stopped for coffee at Sparrow before making for our other favourite op thrift shop. Actually, I think it is actually our preferred one, only because it is closer to the bus stop. And there they were...

Where last week there were none, this week there was one pair of sandals that were bigger than a size 6. That they are blue is just an added bonus, because blue goes with pretty much anything.

Actually, these sandals are size 8. That's right. Size 8.

Yes, the sandals are big, but that's ok because Jimmy hasn't tripped in them (yet). Plus, he's fond of them already, although that might have something to do with them being the roomiest shoes he owns.

Here's to summer and a growing little boy.

22/52

a portrait of my son, once a week, every week in 2015

Jimmy: Ride Daddy's shoulder(s)...

What you can see in this photo is love. Love and spring. When riding our shoulders, Jimmy usually sits a little more evenly on our shoulders, but for a short time he sat on Daddy's right shoulder. And then he walked up the "stairs", i.e. the retaining wall on the right. I think we are all enjoying this stage where Jimmy is confident with his walking (and running), but still small enough to be carried in our arms or on our shoulders.

What you can't see is the traces of snot on Jimmy's face nor the very slow pace of Jimmy's walking and running, because it's the weekend and Jimmy doesn't like to nap on weekends, because Daddy is home. And I'm cool with that, even if Jimmy needs his sleep because he (and I) is still dealing with a mild cold. That's spring for you. At least snot is less distressing, mostly, than the fever Jimmy had this time last year..