The Family

Eleanor had a nightmare last night.

She’s had bad dreams before, but this one seemed worse. Perhaps it was just that she’s finally able to describe the experience – but her panic and upset seemed greater than before as well. So I’m just calling it as the bad dream/nightmare threshold.

From what I could piece together through the sobs and muffled voice of someone who has their head buried in your shoulder, there were lots (swarms) of tiny ants crawling all over her left hand. And they didn’t bite her or hurt her, but they were scary.

She kept grabbing my arm and pinching it between her thumb and hand, though, so I wonder at that ‘not biting’ part.

We turned on lights and examined her hand and she confirmed there weren’t any ants there anymore. We went into her room and looked in and all around her bed and they weren’t there any more either. And we talked about nightmares and being scared and then waking up and being OK. And after a long while (OK, 10 minutes, but that’s a long time at 4am) she settled with daddy and pretty much immediately collapsed back into sleep.

Poor little one.

The first nightmare I remember, I would have been somewhere around 4-7, I think.

I wonder if she will remember this one. I wonder all the time about what memories she’s forming (though usually I’m wondering about happy memories).

Well, the project has been graded and I got full marks. Which is pleasant.

I did not successfully copy the page I tried to copy, but it is a very complicated page. And some of the effects may be from 3rd party libraries. I guess it’s OK if I can’t reverse engineer drupal in a weekend.

But there are two things that bug me. The instructor is out this week – he has a new baby, squeeeee – but he said we could do office hours next week and figure it out.

The page I’m copying is https://www.nasa.gov/mission_pages/msl/index.html.

When you resize the page, the menu gets smaller, and then it collapses into a pull down menu bar. The menu is a simple list; I don’t quite understand all the ins & outs of the collapse, but it’s handled by Bootstrap so I don’t have to.

However, it doesn’t quite collapse. The fourth element goes out of the list and stays visible. But here’s the thing – the menu is hidden once it collapses. The 4th element is part of the hidden menu. And yet it is visible. When the menu is visible, I can move that 4th element over. I just can’t figure out how to make it visible all the time.

And then there’s the sidebar. There’s a sidebar on the site; it takes up the entire length and is part of the page structure. At smaller page widths, that collapses into a tab that you can expand, where it floats on top of the page structure.

I didn’t even try. It’s part of the larger page, then it just goes away. It was on my list to figure the ‘remove from the site flow and make this tab bar’ … but it was near the bottom of the list.

I even tried to convince myself it was some 3rd-party add-on, thus letting myself off the hook for figuring it out, but then I found the same menu behavior at http://www.bearlakewatch.com/. And their page is quite slick, but it’s not quite as layered as NASA, and I can ~kind of~ see how they’re doing that collapsing sidebar. But still – really low on the priority list.

There’s also a collapsing sub-navigation bar that I didn’t attempt, the way the main content of the page links, the way images are associated with articles (I just hard coded it – figured that perhaps their content management system is also hard coding it in post processing, and I just had to make it look right).

So these are all important things, yes? Some of them are major structural and functional and highly visible things, too. And yet … full marks.

Of course I am pleased, but I am also somewhat unsatisfied. I want a comment or something that says the gaps were noticed but that they didn’t rise to the threshold of dinging points. Or that the complexity of the rest of the attempt made up for the parts I didn’t figure out. Or something. Otherwise I’m left wondering if the details I think are important are even noticeable.

Today Chris came out and helped us pick up pretty rocks. Not things we needed – not things that had to be removed to keep faith with the contract. Just things we wanted to have. And it wasn’t a big deal to coordinate – we asked, he said sure.

We have had such amazing help during this last year.

When everything first happened, my colleagues at work – and in particular my boss – were nothing but supportive. And more than just letting me take time off as needed. So many people asked caring questions, listened to me, checked in on progress. I got the feeling some of them would have come to the funeral, if I’d asked.

Joseph’s friends really stepped up. They came out and packed and carried and hauled; they watched Eleanor – and they called and talked and listened and made sure he had their full support. There are tales of people feeling isolated and set apart by grief and circumstances; the absolute opposite happened here. There were times that I would just feel overwhelming gratitude that we had such amazing generous friends.

And my family – I know I’m talking to you guys here, and it’s a little awkward to tell your gratitude to someone directly … but oh, you guys. We could not have had more, or better, support. Chris has come out multiple times to do major heavy lifting moving things that we very literally could not have moved without help. Christina who has watched Eleanor and who has been the absolute epitome of an active listener. It has all helped so very, very much.

And Mom & Dad. Where would we have been without you? The only reason it has been possible to clear the ranch is that you’re letting us hold so much of it at your place. Without that option, we would have lost so much that would have hurt so badly to lose. Mom who has taken Eleanor every week, often multiple days a week, keeping Eleanor on an even keel in those first awful months when we were falling apart and now again in these last critical weeks. And in the middle, the constant known date that we could just pause and breathe – that has been the biggest thing keeping us in any equilibrium throughout the year.

Dad, who has come out every weekend of late; who has stuffed his very new garage that he had barely even started to enjoy. Who has appreciated these things that Joseph’s dad appreciated; that Joseph himself appreciates. The loan of the trailer; the option to fill up two trucks; the help deciding each thing that would stay or go there in the shop – even just the expertise in tying down a load securely. We could not have done this half so well, and in many senses we could not have done it at all, without you.

Thank you all. We are truly indebted to you, and will always be grateful.

Today we finally hit the threshold where all the things we’re doing look like they might be making a difference.

Everything is off the walls or detached from whatever it was attached to. The things that are staying have been decided on. Almost all of the important things are moved; almost all the heavy things are moved. And – get this – everything in the kitchen is boxed up.

I’m as surprised as anyone else by this. The last several boxes can’t be taped – all the bulky & tall stuff, like cookie sheets, that will not fit in either the book boxes or small boxes we had on hand. So they are standing up and the box isn’t shut. Whatever – it’s all in a box, it’s all coming home.

There’s still stuff that needs to be boxed, and there are still so many trips that need to be made. But I think that it’s down to the point where we’ll be able to finish next weekend.

And tomorrow I won’t be packing kitchen boxes. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.

Class. I just talk about class now, don’t I? Well, it’s the thing that’s happening in my life, unless you would be entertained by the intricacies of packing kitchen boxes. I have made progress. I really have. Only 1000 more boxes to pack.

So in class, the instructor keeps saying things like ‘oh, this won’t be for a grade; just see how far you can get.’ Which has seemed a bit unfair. I mean, I know I’m going to do it; he knows I’m going to do it, but the trade off is that he has to look at it and say ‘good job’ and give me a sticker.

As I mentioned, this adult education approach where we’re actually supposed to believe that learning the material is more important than the grade we get has some serious drawbacks.

However, there has been an interesting personal development. Remember oh so many weeks ago when I had to make a web page, and wanted to do one thing outside of scope, and couldn’t quite talk myself into it? Well, this spirit of rebellion has been nurtured by the “these aren’t really assignments” tasks.

Cause if they aren’t assignments, and they’re not graded, then I don’t have to follow their instructions. This is the third not-assignment where I’ve done this, and the first one where I realized why I suddenly felt free to do so. It is interesting. Because I’m certainly doing more with the assignment; often doing slightly more difficult things, and that’s unquestionably a good thing from the point of view of learning. Repetition, challenge, so forth.

And yet, I can only do so when the assignments are turned into not-assignments, and I get mad about it, and do all this extra stuff because I’ll show them, dang it, tell me this isn’t really the assignment and just look at what I think of your so-called instructions. So there!

But likewise I’m not likely (as in, I don’t do this) that I’d just seek out some novel challenge, say hmm let’s see if I can do that, and then do it … except in the structure of a class where I have to do these things; they’re assigned.

Psychology. It’s a strange odd world inside of one’s head.

As on all previous assignments, the instructor met the deadline with a “how’d it go? Need more time? Just keep working on it; I won’t get to grading for several more days”. Which I believe; he still hasn’t graded the assignment from the 18th.

So I won’t say that I was counting on this extension, but I was kind of expecting it. The rule following part of my is frustrated by this loose treatment of due dates; the perfectionist in me is super happy, and the part of me that just wants to get some sleep is rather perturbed. I mean – done or not, can’t it at least be over??

There is 1 remaining critical issue, and it’s pretty dang intractable. I have no idea what to try next.

1 issue that I figured out today, which turned out to be a super stupid 1-line snafu at the very beginning of the style sheet.

And 5 remaining issues that are critical to me, but don’t really break the page. If I’m trying to make it look like the target page, they’re important. If I just want it to be quasi-functional, they don’t matter.

So I’m still working on this project, but now with a looming but unknowable deadline.

This adult education thing has some serious drawbacks.

“If you can’t run, you walk, and if you can’t walk, you crawl, and if you can’t do that… you find someone to carry you.” – Malcolm Reynolds, Firefly

I’m somewhere between the walk and crawl break points for the project and the ranch.

Project – let’s say 5 hours left available, depending on how much of this I sneak in at work. Hey, they’re paying for me to take this class, so this is OK to do now & then.

And it is not inconceivable that I should finish what is most critically important to finish. It’s just that it’s reaching this point where things can’t go too terribly wrong; where a setback can’t be adjusted for. And I don’t like being at this point. Hard to believe I conducted most of my high school and all of my college projects at this uncomfortable horizon. Did I not have any time management skills back then?

And for the ranch … moved more furniture today. The list of heavy/awkward items keeps dwindling – I think it’s less than 10 big things still – but those big things still include a piano, refrigerator, and an anvil, so it’s not much comfort to think that there’s fewer than 10 items to haul out.

And the unending array of things that need to be stuffed in boxes continues to be unending. Today I hit some threshold and just started throwing things away. Perfectly functional 30 year old metal grease pot that I cannot get clean (I’ve been trying for months now) and will never use. Wrap in so many layers of paper and plastic so it doesn’t grease everything else in the box, so I can make the decision to get rid of it 5 years from now … or throw it away now?

I hate throwing these things away. But there’s a point where you just don’t know what else to do.

Well, there’s theoretically only 44 hours left till the project is due, assuming I don’t do anything like sleep or go to work. Realistically, I have 15 hours. And that is a terrifying thought that is making me re-scope the size of this project.

Though if I can just get the flippin header and footer and sidebar to work, the content areas should be relatively easy, and the work on the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, and 5th pages will be so close to done anyway… but hey, 15 hours. Even if it’s only a matter of 2 more hours work, when the window closes it’s closed.

I say. This class is so loose in its deadlines I could probably keep plugging away on this till next weekend.

So I’ll get the first page in to say I got it in and then I might fill in those other pages for my own pleasure.

But then there’s this other deadline … closing date on his dad’s place.

If we are out there every free day, then we only have 7 days left to finish up. 11, if you count the additional days Joseph could possibly go. 18 days if you count all the days. But realistically, 9 days.

And in those 9 days, we need to clear the shed (including an anvil), the shop (so. many. tools.), the small house (deep freeze), and the house (piano, stove, entertainment center, dressers, no idea how much framed art, and surely eventually someday I’ll be done boxing up the kitchen).

I have the feeling that 20 days from now, Joseph and I will be looking at each other with this dazed expression saying ‘is it done? is it really done?’ and when we doubt we’ll just look at the floor to ceiling stack of furniture and boxes and tools accumulating in our garage and know that it is all real.

I wonder how many moves we will move before some of these kitchen boxes I’m boxing up now get unboxed.

Projects. Sigh.

Why is it so hard to get started? The blank sheet of paper; the empty file – it’s not just me; I know it’s a universal thing, but why?

Of course, I’m staring at the beginning of this project; have been all day. I have had the wonderful gift of an entire uninterrupted day to work on this, and all I did was get started. I moved from a blank document to a not-blank document.

No content. No mileposts. No discernible sketches of a final product. And it took all day to get this far. Part of it is that it has been fighting me all day long. Part of it is me, and getting started. And perhaps being too much of a perfectionist, though I certainly don’t feel like I’m aiming for perfection.

I have been on this strange run of podcast discovery. I’m not looking for them – actually, I’d rather not find them at all, it’s a bit vexing to have them all queuing up like this – but it seems the last several weeks have been filled with podcasts leaping out at me. Grammar Girl. A Way with Words. University of Oxford. The Uncertain Hour.

And once you open the door, it’s a neverending stream of things. Everything on NPR has a podcast. Serialized fiction. Probably a few educational things out there.

I’m listening to a books on tape series right now. Very well done; interesting and informative and all sorts of conversation fodder. And once again, I am reminded of how well I like listening to things like this in the car.

But it will finish – there is a finite number of CDs in this set (6, to be exact). So I look at all these eager podcasts, all clamoring for attention and promising to be interesting and informative and conversational as well.

And I really wish I could figure out how to connect all the dots between online feed, phone, and car speakers. I know people do it all the time and have done so for years and years, but I still have no idea how it is done.