they say it's your birthday

It's my birthday too, yeah!
March is birthday month at our house. Each year I give my children a book each for their birthdays. I write a note on the inside cover, noting their age and the date and why I thought this particular book was fitting for them at this time in their lives. Each time I do I wonder: where will this book end up? What other children will read my note and wonder about this special child?
We have a few books with notes written inside the cover or in the margin. Some are simply the owner's name and address, others are inscriptions. There's something in reading another person's thoughts in a book - almost a connection through time and space.
Some books I've bought for others: Jenny Goes to Sea by Esther Averill; Stormbreaker by Anthony Horowitz; La Belle Figura: A Field Guide to the Italian Mind by Beppe Severgnini; Girl Meets God: on the Path to a Spiritual Life by Lauren F. Winner; Maritime Supremacy & the Opening of the Western Mind: Naval Campaigns That Shaped the Modern World by Peter Padfield

Les Bois

Boise is the city of trees. The river that bisects downtown is lined with them; the streets in our neighborhood - the north end - are too. Boise was named from a derivative of french trader's exclamation "the woods" upon seeing the tree lined river. The beautiful towering aged trees are one of the pleasures of living in Boise.
Unfortunately we had to cut down the old apple tree in our backyard. It had rotted through on one half, the side facing the house not more than 10 feet away. I enlisted my father in law and his chainsaw to help. It was quick going with only one near miss when a major limb took a dive into the basement window well, somehow missing the window in the process. Now all that remains is a stump, and that only until I dissolve it in place.
We'll replace the tree but there is a little sadness in the passing of the old apple tree. Perhaps I have read "The Giviing Tree" once too many times.

Seattle's little brother

I'm sitting at Thomas Hammer coffee shop waiting for some of my students (I teach through the University of Phoenix) and thinking about coffee shops. The fabled city of black beans is of course Seattle and I don't know how many coffee shops are there but right here in Boise, I count five within five blocks of my present location.
And no, I'm not counting Starbucks as I have issues with them....
I think coffee shops are a window into a city's soul - see Ray Oldenburg's "The Great Good Place". Boise has an eclectic mix. Thomas Hammer is kind of the hip urban coffee shop - it's empty right now so what does that tell you? Across the street Dawson's Downtown is doing a steady if not brisk business this drizzly Saturday morn. It's more Boise style - local, a little quirky, friendly. Flying M coffee shop caters to the alternative crowd in Boise, all three of them. I think they take their "otherness" too seriously, pretentiously even. Java City is my personal favorite. It has the right atmosphere: small tables and comfortable leather club chairs, original art, and staffed by what appears to be a collection of ex-Tower Records employees. Try the "bowl of soul" if you find yourself in Boise some morning with nothing to do in a hurry.
What does your town's soul look like?

blog blog bloh blah blah...

I've been checking out some of the blogs of note to try and figure out what differentiates a good blog from a not so good blog, or a blah. No doubt it's in the eye of the beholder. This beholder, or this beholder's eye, likes the blogs that have a unifying theme, a reason d'etre.
So, what is my blog's reason for being? I haven't decided yet. I haven't been at it long either so a little grace should be in order. I'm not too thrilled with the public diary theme but recognize how easy it is to slip into that mode. I do like the keeping in touch with friends and family aspect which makes it seem more of a perpetual Christmas letter. Perhaps I should go with the title, life in Boise, bits of my life in Boise, bits of Boise lifestyle....

we left it oh so long ago the garden

The daffodils and tulips are poking green heads out of muddy beds. I saw a couple of robins squabbling over squatting rights in the front yard. Spring is here and it’s time to get back to the garden. I love gardening. I find I can put all the worries of life out of my mind as I trim the roses, move a plant from here to there, or back again. My wife says it’s in the blood ever since we took a trip back to the home country. We visited a lot of gardens in England and it clicked for her that gardening is a national past time for the English and, even though I have lost most (perhaps all?) traces of my birth place, I am still a subject of the queen. And so, I garden.
Our favorite gardens are the gardens of Hidcote Mansion. Ironically, the garden was designed by an American so it appears I really am a child of two worlds, old and new. The garden is laid out in a series of rooms. High hedges define the walls of each room. Each room has a different function and planting scheme.
There is a Theatre Walk, a grass meadow cut short with beautiful shade trees at the stage end – the room surrounded by a hedge easily 12 feet tall.
In the Circle, the hedges have been clipped into various shapes: pillars, giant perched birds, even a gateway. Our favorite part is the Long Walk that stretches the length of the garden. The sides of this hallway are again, tall hedges. The hallway has a series of steps that accommodate the fact that the garden is built on a hillside. At the far end a pair of tall iron gates open onto a view of the idyllic cotswold countryside. This is the image that springs to mind when I read Thomas Hardy’s books set in this very area. After strolling the gardens we stopped in the tea room where our daughter, aged 2 at the time, had her first tea.. She charmed the tea lady immediately when she, very politely, asked for “scones and tea please” in her American accent. We sipped out tea and ate our scones smothered in jam and clotted cream Sitting at that table on the covered porch gazing out on the garden with my daughter and wife is one of my treasured memories.
The title for this post comes from Larry Norman’s song “So Long Ago the Garden”. Larry Norman ended his visit of this planet Feb. 24th, 2008

teach your children well

Make a free photo slideshow

And feed them on your dreams, the one they pick, the one you’ll know by.
And don’t you ever ask them why, if they told you, you would cry,
Just look at them and sigh, and know they love you.”
"Teach Your Children Well" - Graham Nash; Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young

I took the kids skiing Sunday pm. We bundled up in jackets, mittens, neck warmers, ski pants, and warm socks and headed out at 4:00pm. The sun was shining and the slopes where ours for the taking. We got taken by the first couple runs but soon found our ski legs (?) and owned the slopes. Mostly because there weren’t too many people skiing but we’re getting better and better each time we go.
I learned to ski at my son’s age so teaching him takes me all the way back to my childhood. Much of the skiing’s mysticism for me comes from that time. My Dad would take us three kids and pile us into the station wagon and head out for Tyrol Basin, a small ski hill in the outback of Wisconsin somewhere. I am grateful to my father that he bravely took up skiing in the middle of his adult life and that he allowed someone else to participate in such a formative experience for me. He could just as easily guarded this father-son time for himself. You see, my father lead the college group of our church back then and one of the students was on the ski patrol. He took me, my brother and sister under his wing and taught us to ski. We went at night mostly, I think that was when Neal was on duty so we could get in free but to a child it made it seem all the more magical. We would say good bye to Mom and drive off into the blackest nights of the Wisconsin winter countryside. Neal showed me how to turn and stop, ride the lifts and the tow rope, always acting so thrilled when I mastered some new skill.

I am thrilled to watch my son conduct his careful turns as he slowly…. very slowly…. no, I mean so slowly he stops half way through… makes his way down the slope traversing the run in the classic learner’s side to side style. Then, when he judges he has reached the remaining third of the hill he’s off like a rocket and I have to crouch down to minimize my wind resistance to catch him. His younger sister likes to stay on the runs with which she is comfortable. None of this slowly side to side stuff for her – she hops of the lift, points her tips downhill and off she goes, screaming her delight to the wind whipping past her. When we get cold and can’t feel our fingers or toes any more it’s time to hit the lodge where Mommy is waiting. Hot chocolates all round and then the boy and I head back out for a few more runs under the lights while the girls stay warm in the lodge.

what we're reading

I read Sonia Worthy's blog of note reading people yesterday. I had never thought that the digital revolution was making us into an unliterary nation. Interesting idea and her blog is great. I also heard of research recently that noted "parents who want their children to read fiction books frequently should have a lot of books at home and at most one television".*

Winter is a great season for reading. The days are short and the weather foreboding. What better setting for reading a book in front of the fire? March is good too. The days are getting longer anticipating spring. The sun is rising over my shoulder on my commute these mornings and sets after I m home. Makes one want to be outside but the weather is unpredictable - yesterday it rained, hailed and the sun shown brightly enough for sunglasses, all within the span of a few hours! I love sitting on the porch reading while the rain falls. Or sitting outside the coffee shop enjoying the vitamin d rejuvenation of the sun while reading.

So what are we reading? Check out the picture and see - and yes we read promiscuously: indiscriminately and diversely in regard to quality and quantity.

*van Ours, Jan C., "Children Reading Fiction Books Because They Want To" (January 2006). CEPR Discussion Paper No. 5472 Available at SSRN: http://ssrn.com/abstract=901231