"anything described can be described some more" **

A section of Ruby's dictionary:

"Gumption" = "Tackle Daddy"

"Moxy" = "Throw Daddy out the window"

"Spirit" = "Feed Daddy to the ducks by the river"

"Daddy" = "Music freak who plays in the trees"

"Ruby" = "Princess and da bomb"

** The title of this post is from the "Lolly, Lolly, Lolly" song by Bob Dorough from Schoolhouse Rock.

That yellow chip and the teeth report

Last Sunday, at church, after I had received Communion, Ruby whispered to me, "What does that yellow chip taste like? Does it have a flavor?" As we knelt in our pew, I whispered back, "It tastes dry; it has a dry flavor." She guessed that was o.k., but not as good as a treat, even though too many treats are bad for you and your teeth.

Before we arrived at church, we talked about Jeremy, Ruby's hamster. His teeth were too long when she got him, so we've been making sure he has a variety of things to gnaw on to get them to the right length. Ruby says he has been doing a good job, "That's the teeth report."

we'd make nice pets

Last weekend, Ruby picked out her first pet, a hamster, longhaired and male. The store had one longhaired left, in the back, not in the usual place for display. Longhaired hamsters are supposed to have a better temperment.
I could not go into the back room because I have allergic asthma; the air was thick with the scent of fur, where they live, isolated.
So when Ruby found me in the aisles, she said, smiling excitedly and skipping along, "Come meet Jeremy."
Ruby, now, is always concerned for Jeremy, wants to make sure he's alright, checking on him and, when he gets to explore his surroundings, especially beyond his cage, treating him as tenderly as we would be treated, if we were in his position and loved.

it's the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)

It really hit me when my family went to a theme park, the mass production of things to buy, the means by which they are created, what they are or may be, the foods manufactured to feed us, the labs where the ingredients are concocted, the methods of dealing with over-population, the waste and loss apparent from land-fills and oceans to the air we breathe and the health-related problems of our bodies, how it's connected.
And though it is, in some ways, fun and an escape from how we make a living to enjoy such diversions, it is costly in more ways than just getting a ticket and getting there.
When I ask my daughter if she had a good time and she says yes, the next topic will always be what her favorite part of it was. In that context, there is no worry, only fireworks.

tempus fugit

How things must pass...Ruby graduates from Kindergarten tomorrow and I will try to hold back inevitable tears of pride and joy at seeing my little girl make another step in this world that is the life we share, not caring if we stay dry in a thunderstorm and getting soaked because it's fun, like the other Saturday afternoon by the Delaware River...

food for thought

This philosophical morning, Ruby said squirrels would eat me because I am a nut. I replied birds would eat her because she is a crumb. She answered, "No, birds eat worms."

the theater, the museum and the universe

Last weekend, Ruby, my wife and I went to the movies to see the latest version of Doctor Seuss' "Horton Hears A Who," a poignant story of questioning the dogmas of supposed authority and belief. It had Ruby dancing out of her seat as the credits rolled. We experienced the Please Touch Museum, which was fun to be involved in, art as tangible and transcendent, quite human. Also, we visited The Franklin Institute and witnessed those historical portraits of discovery and invention, the Planitarium showing us our universe, where we might lose ourselves, if not for our part in it. Breath-taking, really, the world as a stage.

Ruby and I Reprise

Culpadirect is my friend Kevin's blog. Recently, he posted a watercolor which is the cover illustration of our new musical collaboration, "hope you're satisfied vol. 1". This drawing was made by Ruby. Recently, Ruby and I talked about Magic. She said it wasn't real. I said it was. Maybe it has to do with what you don't see, which is still there, like the wind in the heart-shaped trees, or the train that whistles distant and lonely outside the window of her bedroom, how we are where we are not, in thoughts, in prayers, in things we make up, like a painting.

Culpa Direct

Culpa Direct

icky rainbows

Ruby and I were on Frankford Ave., crossing the damp street where she noted there were rainbows. I said the oils there make it seem so. She said, "Eww...but rainbows are pretty, not icky." I said some rainbows are icky. She replied, "No way!" She likes to walk on the curb of the sidewalk because she says a girl needs balance, boys don't. I have to wonder at that. Recently, she ran a fever and had a breakout around her lips, cold sores. When she went back to school, recovering, a couple of girls remarked, "Eww, what's that?" and so on. Topically, my wife said to her to tell the girls it would go away, don't worry about it, and ask them, "By the way, were you made in China?" That confused them, what happens to you coming from somewhere else, altering the appearance of things, making you aware of yourself, in another context. My daughter is as beautiful as ever.