Weekend

Its been a moderately turbulent weekend, thus far.

Yesterday, my wife went to Philadelphia to participate in a disaster recovery drill. Doing that is part of the job, and its expected that you will give up a weekend here and there to do it. She's fortunate, in a way; most of the drills she participates in are done remotely, so that she can do them from home, or from her desk at work. This one is a new customer, and new customers get extra attention -- at least until the company can figure out what their special needs are, at which point they join the pack. This isn't cheating, though I would imagine that the companies aren't thrilled when they find out. So its not a big deal, but when it means that I have to be without my wife, then it is a big deal, because I don't like it. Its just a taste of what life would be like without her, and its an unpleasant taste. On more than one occasion I've pointed out that the disparity in our ages, and just the general tendencies, mean that I'll likely die ten or fifteen years before her. She never likes that image. Can't say I'm too thrilled with it either.

I've been reading Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls, and I have to admit that its put me into a bit of a morbid frame of mind. My daughter occasionally says that she doesn't particularly want to grow up, and reading this book, and others like it, I can agree with her. Even though I believe they're talking, in the more graphic stories, about kids who are one or two standard deviations out from the norm, it's still scary stuff, and when I contemplate that actually they may not be talking that far out, its particularly scary. You want to give your daughter -- your child, male or female -- the strength and ability to handle life, and books like this seem to say Guess What? You might make it. You might not. No telling, Jack. Which is very scary stuff. Its deeply unfortunate that the training they do in middle school to defend against this disruption in the kid's life -- whether from peer pressure, alcohol, drugs, or any of the other apparently nine thousand possible ways to kick the kid off the rails -- is itself inherently scary. My daughter told me that she was actively frightened by a guy who came to talk about drug use, and a friend of hers actually left the auditorium, shaking, during the presentation. Then again, if I knew the truth of whats out there, I might, too.

Didn't help that halfway through reading one story in Ophelia, my mother called for help with her computer. When she bought it, she didn't ask for speakers, and it didn't occur to us to order them. We were going to use the speakers we got back when we got back an old computer that we'd given my mother-in-law. Ah, but when the speakers came back, the power cord didn't, and after trying all of the stray unmarked black power cords lying around, I finally said the hell with this, and just ordered a new set of speakers. Is that silly, stupid, and bizarre? Yes.

The bread is baking now. It didn't rise as much as I expected, but I think that the rise during the baking cycle will compensate for that, at least a bit. And hey, I finally learned why they call it a 'letter fold' when they talk about folding the dough. So the day isn't a total loss!