Yesterday I headed out really early to grade at Lux Coffeebar in Phoenix, and while I was gone Donna made me a “Honey Do List” that got longer the longer I was gone. By 12:30pm I expected a book and got home to two pages of notes. One of the items on the list was to sweep the roof. Yes, the roof. Of the house. We have these huge pine trees that’ve seen better days and were shedding all over our roof. We don’t have gutters here in Arizona but we also don’t have precipitation to help clean off the roofs, so up the ladder I went.

Claire watched mildly amused as I climbed up this A frame ladder with my trusty broom. It was one of those ungodly hot and sunny Indian summer weekends. I climbed to the very top of the ladder, reached out for the edge of the roof, got my knees up, and pulled myself onto the roof. I made my way up and over the roof to where the needles were in large piles.

As I began to sweep, Claire’s little head popped up over the edge of the roof as if to say “what’s up, dad?” In cases like this, the best thing to do is not freak. I calmly walked to her as she stood on the edge of her heels 30 feet off the solid ground. I took her wrist tightly and helped her sit down in a safe place.

As I finished sweeping the roof, I wondered why I didn’t bring my cell phone up there with me. After I was done, I half held her-half walked her to where I could bang the broom on the edge of the patio until Mama came out of the house.

Once she saw Claire on the roof and the space between the ladder and the roof initially, she climbed the ladder and reached out for Claire. We got Claire down off of the roof and reminded her that she was four years old and not invincible.

After spending way too much time in recovery after throat surgery, I had to get out of town. October and November are some of my favorite times living in Arizona because the weather drops from 100 degrees to about 60. Nights drop incredibly and day times are short sleeve weather. After fall break when we return to work, it’s dark when I drive into work and dark when Claire gets out of karate and swim several of the week nights.

Over break I wasn’t really cleared for travelling or even lifting anything but by the third week in October, I had to get out of town. I put on my calendar “getting out of town” and told Donna to get in the truck if she wanted to go. I’d planned a trip to either Willow Springs Lake or Christopher Creek to go camping, and then I contacted the park ranger. She suggested we stay in Christopher Creek because the rim (where the lakes are) were close to freezing temperatures at night.

Throughout the week, Donna became sicker and sicker to the point where she and Dante decided to stay home. (I sure didn’t want them in the tent breathing on me!) Friday Claire and I headed north up the Beeline Highway through Payson, stopped at Subway for lunch and then headed into the woods. Christopher Creek campground was pretty dead, and we wanted to be close enough to the pit toilets that she could go alone but far enough so it didn’t smell too bad. We ended up at the same campsite where we camped the first time she’d ever gone in Oct 2008. We set up camp, paid our $16 (??!) a night, and hung out. As the sun dipped behind Christopher Mountain, it got chillier outside. We made a nice fire and hunkered down in our warm clothes. Claire just kept asking over and over again for Smores, but I told her we had to eat dinner first. We had hotdogs and then later Smores. At about 8:00 o’clock she said she wanted to go to bed so I took her into the tent, but I suddenly realized that there were no adults there so I didn’t have anything to do after she went to bed. I read my magazine in the tent for a little while but it hurt by back so I too went to bed at 8. By 7am we were awake and frigid. Sleeping didn’t bother me in the cold, but it was waking up cold that sucked. I had Claire climb into my bag with me and we told each other stories for an hour before braving the even colder air outside the tent.

We made a small fire to make our oatmeal, and we hung out around camp. I wanted to hit the General Store in Christopher Creek but didn’t think it’d be open too early. We headed over there after 9am and the lady was talking to Claire. After discovering she was 4, she said they were having a Halloween costume parade and trick or treating that night at the local fire department. I said we might be back.

Claire and I wanted to see some fall color, so we drove up a dirt road to some trails where there were Red Maples with leaves still. I was worried that we were about a week late for the leaves, but we definitely saw some back by the creek. She complained about walking even though we were going through a flat meadow, until I realized she needed to go to the bathroom. She freaks out with outhouses but when you gotta go, you gotta go. She finally dropped trou and went on the side of the trail. I buried it and put rocks over the area before we crossed the creek to climb what I thought was a small hill. Turned out it was more like a small mountain. We headed up this thing and I had to toss Claire on my head so she wouldn’t roll down the hillside. The problem was the leaves were very slippery, so we made it about 10′ and found a spot where a blanket of red leaves rolled down the hillside. She and I made like we were sledding and got back down near the creek.

We eventually made it back to the car, salvaged some wood from burn piles that night’s fire, and headed up to the top of Mogollon Rim to Woods Canyon Lake. We got some worms and hoped to fish. After about two hours of not a single bite we decided to head back to camp so Claire could change before the trick or treating. The fire hall was pretty empty when we arrived, and I told Claire to just tell everyone that she was going as a “camper” since she had no costume. After we grabbed some free hotdogs more people began coming, and it turned out that this evening was a big deal. Many people like us were valley people who drove up just for the evening. After the costume parade, they loaded the kids into trailers behind fire pickups and drove us through Christopher Creek to all the cabins. We were out there for about three hours, filling a large bag with candy. Claire loved it, and I’d consider taking her back next year (with a costume this time!)

I had an Arizona Highways magazine at home about cool drives in Arizona, and one of those drives was the 300 Rim Road between 260 and 87. It’s a dirt road that literally runs parallel to the top of the Rim for about 55 miles, and I figured we might find some nice photos of yellow Aspen at the top. Donna and I had made the drive years ago but only part way in to camp. This time I was determined that Claire and I were going all the way across.

Sunday morning we packed the tent and got on the road north after a nice breakfast at Creekside Restaurant. On the 300 we passed right by the Woods Canyon Lake cutoff, which is usually as far as we go. This time I was determined to drive all the way. The road immediately went from paved to dirt and gravel. ATVs and dirt bike riders flew by, and I put my zoom lens and camera next to me on the seat of the truck. Claire was half preoccupied with hiding some of the night before’s candy in the back seat, but she kept putting her window up and down to watch the dust and trees. Occasionally I stopped to get some photos along the Rim and ended up at several key points along the way. I almost drove back to Knohl Lake to check it out, but I wanted to get to Strawberry at a decent hour to see my friend Alan.

There were several campgrounds along the way that we checked out, but I like sites that have a creek or lake close by. I was also hoping to see elk or coyote but we barely even saw any birds. I think Claire enjoyed the ride, and we did find a few stands of yellowed leaf aspen. I shot a few hundred pictures before we pulled onto 87 towards Strawberry.

Alan lives in the woods, and he’s never really home; this weekend he just happened to be there so Claire and I stopped at his cabin for a bit before driving into Payson where our friend’s have a cabin (it’s more like their second house). They weren’t there and later said we missed them by minutes (but I know I drive faster than them and we take the same highway home). We rolled into Chandler a few hours later, after our 350 mile, three day adventure together.

My wife and I decided to take Claire, our 4 1/2 year old, and her 6 year old friend to see Where the Wild Things Are today. Wow, I think I would’ve rather stuck hot nails in my eye sockets. I won’t posit to suggest I am not about to give stuff away; read at your own pace. The whole opening sequence was really hard to watch and disturbing. The mom, played by Catherine Keener (who I can barely stand in anything), works long jobs and seems clueless, except when she has Mark Ruffalo over to dinner (for frozen corn?!) and to snog with. The only mention of Max’s dad is a globe that’s engraved from him, but there’s nothing about him at all except that this kid comes from a broken family. The sister, named Claire, and her friends have a snowball battle with Max (who by the way instigates it). He loses the battle and cries about it, as Claire leaves with her friends. Big deal. Then kids freaks out because Mom is snogging Ruffalo and bites her on the shoulder. You know what he needs? A spanking and maybe a therapist. Instead, he runs away.

He gets to a land Where the Wild Things Are, and they have cute human names like Carol and Donald. They also sound human. He arrives as Carol is having his own temper tantrum and tearing down everyone’s houses because his girlfriend left the community. (Wouldn’t you if your man threw temper tantrums?). Max brings a new element to the group and of course he pretends to be almighty, so they elect him “king”. He runs around with them for who knows how many days (there are more sunrises and sunsets in the film than stars in the sky; the beat each other, rip trees out of the ground, and are annoying. KW, the girlfriend comes back, and everything is all happy-like for about half an hour in the film. Then Max is paranoid that Carol is going to discover he’s not really a king, so he wants to make a secret compartment where he can hide while sleeping, away from his “friend”. Of course Carol gets pissed off and rips Donald’s arm off!! Yes, a kids movie, everyone. I sure bet the kids love that part. In this big fight KW decides to leave again (sure, sure, she’s said that before), and in the morning Max decides to go home. He leaves a heart made from sticks for Carol (which I suppose means, it’s ok that you’re an abusive asshole). He leaves the group and they just stand there as he floats away (no, there is not any resolution with the group). He goes back across the “seas”, lands, and runs home to his mother. She, of course, is waiting. She cries, feeds him, and she falls asleep at the table while he’s stuffing his face. The end. Ugh.

Side note. Later in the day, my daughter threw her own temper tantrum, bit a huge hole in my wife’s wrist, and yelled that she was going to run away from home to where the wild things are. Great, Spike Jones. Awesome. Thanks a lot.

Claire and I drove over to Changing Hands Bookstore today to pick up a copy of the new children’s book by Peter Yarrow of Peter, Paul and Mary fame. He’s going to be at Changing Hands on Sunday signing and singing. This conversation below is a true story.

As we walked in the door:

Claire, “Dad, what’re we doing here?”

Me, “Getting you a book.”

Claire, “Awesome! I love books. Which one?”

Me, totally clueless, having no idea the name of the book. “Dunno. Can’t remember the name. Let me find someone to ask.”

Claire, stopping me in mid-aisle, “Is the book Day is Done? Is that the one, Dad?”

Me, floored. Finding my voice and suddenly remembering the title, “Why, yes Claire that is the book.”

Claire, “ok, there it is.” Pointing to the poster selling Peter Yarrow’s new book Day is Done.

Not only did she read the title, she then proceeded to get in line to go ask the cashier for a copy housed behind the counter.

My response to her mother when I got home. “How ’bout I just give her my wallet and car keys, too.”
Claire listening in and needing the last word, “Yes, and I already read it to myself in the store.

On the way home Friday from work in the car.

Claire: Dada, what are we doing this weekend?

Me: I’m not sure. We’ll ask Mama. Maybe we’ll go to the mall.

Claire: Dada, I want earrings.

Me, trying not to react: Why do you want those?

Claire: Cause Kaitlyn has them.

OH BOY.

This morning we Devon and I were busy in the kitchen, making breakfast and cleaning up. Claire had been playing in her little tent this week and pretending there were wolves and monsters and such around, requiring her to “hide” in the tent and play games.

Well, as I’m cooking I hear her scream bloody murder and run towards the kitchen. Knowing my kid and her standard volume, I barely flinched and continued my chore, concerned, but not panicked. Devon, however, caught on a bit sooner, shut off the faucet, and met her on the edge of the living room.

Claire screamed “there’s something in the cave!”. I’m thinking there is a bug and am still not too worried, but I take over hugging duty while Devon investigates the beast.

A moment later Devon exclaims “it’s a bird!”. A what?

I edge closer, still holding a hyperventilating Claire.

A dove, sitting on the other edge of our fireplace guard, calmly sits and looks over its surroundings. I pause, knowing that the flue was closed this winter, and wonder how this bird managed to get down the chimney and why it brought so much dirt into my house.

Then another thought occurred to me. How are we going to get this bird out???

I throw open the sliding glass doors as Devon removes the guard and I begin calling to this bird as though I speak the language.

It flaps wildly around the room.

So does Claire and Devon.

He runs to the garage. I run to the kitchen. I mean, I need to check on breakfast to – live goes on.

Then the bird comes into the kitchen and I scream. (It was aimed at my head, of course).

Devon charges in with a fishing net.

Seriously.

My screams panic the bird, who reroutes its course into my office. Drat! Why weren’t the other doors shut?

Devon chases after the bird; I reach for the camera.

The dove is released on the porch, flies away, and directly into our brick fence. It bounces off, lands on its back, feet in the air, and doesn’t move.

I grab a stick and flip it over, take a few pictures, leave it with a few parting thoughts, and return to the porch, happy the dog has been safely locked in the dog run…

After scrubbing our hands, eating breakfast, and going on about our day, Claire approaches me.

Mom?

Yes Claire?

I know what we can call the bird.

What?

Santa Claus!

[insert lightbulb above Donna's head]

Why Claire, that’s a great idea.  You know what mama thinks?

What mom?

I think Santa sent the dove to be sure you were being a good little girl.

No, it’s not Christmas yet.

It’s halfway there Claire; this is when Santa checks on kids.

Ah, man…

Claire sitting at the coffee table eating dinner while Dante lays under her feet in hopes of catching some crumbs, “Dante! Leave! You’re pissing me off!”

Mama and Dad’s eye brows raised toward one another.

Me, “um….” Thinking it’s my truck driver vernacular that got us to this point.

Mama, “Claire, you shouldn’t tell the dog that he’s pissing you off. Tell him he’s upsetting you. That’s an adult phrase.”

Claire’s reply. “But, Mama, what if he IS pissing me off?”

Today at karate Claire was early, sitting with other kids, and watching the other class. She suddenly shrieked, began to cry, and ran to me. “He punched me in the face!” she screamed.

I scanned the room. “Who?” I demanded.

“Him.” She pointed at a four year old boy near where she was sitting. I immediately jumped up, took three huge steps across the room, leaned down into this little guy’s face, and said “Don’t even think about touching my kid again.”

He timidly whispered “Ok” as he looked like he was about to pee himself.

Hahaha they won’t mess with my kid. The teen years sure’ll be fun.

Years ago my wife and I saw Neil Simon’s Rumors at the local college and really enjoyed it, so when the high school announced they were performing Fools, I was eager to go. They only had it playing three nights, and the kids asked me to go. On the final night, I asked Claire if she thought she wanted to go. She really had no idea what I was asking, but I figured if she freaked out, we could leave.

She was totally into the whole idea, but she kept talking about the kids dancing. I tried to explain that they wouldn’t be dancing but she didn’t get it. We got there, got pretty good seats up front (near an aisle where we could slip out), and buckled down.

The show was phenomenal. The kids were great, and my former student, Eric, who has never acted before, did a great job. Claire was wonderful. She mostly sat there and enjoyed the show. She really didn’t talk loudly or anything but asked a few questions. During the intermission, we got some water, she peed, and then we sat back down. We enjoyed the second half as much as the first, and then we headed home. Claire thanked me for taking her to the play when we got into the car, and then she conked out on me.

That was Friday. Last night I asked Claire what she wanted to do today, Sunday. She asked to go to the movies. This wasn’t what I expected so I was a little curious. I knew Monsters Versus Aliens was playing and figured she might like it. After I got home this morning from grading, Claire asked again. I got her cleaned up and dressed, and then we headed out.

We got to the theatre a little early, and Claire asked for popcorn. We got a small popcorn and smuggled in some water bottles from the store. Another girl her size had a booster seat, so I asked Claire if she wanted one. She nodded and grabbed one off the stack before we went into the theatre. Several other parents and kids came in, and the previews started. They were very loud and Claire wasn’t too happy about the noise.

The movie was almost two hours, and there was more of a plot than even The Invincibles, but Claire sat through it all and watched. She only complained a few times when it was very loud or scary.

At one point she told me that if I didn’t eat some popcorn soon, she’d eat it all. I took a handful and thought nothing of it until about twenty minutes later when I went for more. There was none! She’d eaten it all. She told me I missed out and I could use the popcorn bag for trash if I’d like. It was so rational and kinda scary.

We had a beautiful time and she thanked me. Great weekend.