Today, George turns 36 years old. I turn 36 weeks pregnant. For his birthday present, I wrote and illustrated a 36-page children's book called The Little Worst. It goes like this.
14 December 2012
36/36: The Little Worst
121412. What very pretty numbers.
Today, George turns 36 years old. I turn 36 weeks pregnant. For his birthday present, I wrote and illustrated a 36-page children's book called The Little Worst. It goes like this.
Today, George turns 36 years old. I turn 36 weeks pregnant. For his birthday present, I wrote and illustrated a 36-page children's book called The Little Worst. It goes like this.
13 December 2012
12 December 2012
Breech
George and I went into our 34 week appointment on November 29th to learn our baby was breech. I hadn't the faintest idea there was anything to worry about, due to a total lack of discomfort. Having a breech baby at 34 weeks is no big a deal (especially since they tend to turn by week 36), but nevertheless, I was mildly distressed. Immediately, I texted my friend Lauren and asked for a copy of her hypnobirthing breech meditation. I listened to it the next day.
November 30th was the evening George and I had a date to see the Austin Symphony Orchestra perform Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. The ASO and Ballet Austin are doing The Rite of Spring this year to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the composition; Indeed, it is wonderful, famous, and historically significant. I've written a previous blog post mentioning it, and due to the timing, my youtube of Fantasia has gotten over 100,000 hits so far. Among the mysterious melodies and jarring harmonies are terribly exciting rhythms. The baby went nuts.
I don't know if it was the hypnobirthing (relax your uterine muscles) or the Stravinsky (dance of death sacrificing a virgin), but I have not felt the full-body baby movements like that since. Today we went into our 36 week appointment. Our baby is in a perfect position.
November 30th was the evening George and I had a date to see the Austin Symphony Orchestra perform Stravinsky's The Rite of Spring. The ASO and Ballet Austin are doing The Rite of Spring this year to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the composition; Indeed, it is wonderful, famous, and historically significant. I've written a previous blog post mentioning it, and due to the timing, my youtube of Fantasia has gotten over 100,000 hits so far. Among the mysterious melodies and jarring harmonies are terribly exciting rhythms. The baby went nuts.
I don't know if it was the hypnobirthing (relax your uterine muscles) or the Stravinsky (dance of death sacrificing a virgin), but I have not felt the full-body baby movements like that since. Today we went into our 36 week appointment. Our baby is in a perfect position.
Drawing by Leonardo DaVinci, 1511
https://www.artfinder.com/work/studies-of-the-foetus-in-the-womb-and-the-external-genitalia-leo/
02 November 2012
28 October 2012
Nephews III
Our favorite little guys (nephews II) came for a visit from Oct 16-19 while their folks took a well earned vacation to Costa Rica. Aiden and Andrew turn two on Nov 1st. This video is a sequel to the post nephews, but it's nearly 9 minutes in length and includes too much footage of banana eating.
I just love watching them eat bananas.
27 October 2012
20/20
24 Aug 12
I'm considered to be 20 weeks and 0 days pregnant, and predicted to have another 20 weeks and 0 days to go. The due date is an awful stream of numbers, 01/11/13, the Chinese zodiac is the water dragon, and the sex will remain unknown throughout the pregnancy. Much to my relief, I'm convinced that water dragons are the best, and therefore refuse to arrive on unacceptable due dates.
I've been meaning to take pictures of my rapidly expanding body with the idea that some day I will return to a normal shape. The trouble with this plan is that asking someone to take pictures of your fat body is not very fun. But here we are at the halfway point, and the neatness of the numbers 20/20 alone has inspired me to begin documenting. If you would rather not watch my belly grow, then get off my blog and look at all those ultrasounds and ugly baby pictures on facebook. These are my memoirs, and I shall do as I wish.
31 Aug 12 (21)
The bugger was about 10 ounces and the length of standard pair of hair cutting shears (7") this week.
(All estimates based on information from http://www.whattoexpect.com/.)
07 Sep 12 (22)
Heavy Pants got up to a pound, and grew to the length of a Sierra Nevada bottle (7.5").
14 Sep 12 (23)
Paperback (8") managed to put on .2 pounds. Mama put that on times ten.
21 Sep 12 (24)
The kickboxer competed in the 1.5 lbs weight class and grew to the width of printer paper (8.5").
28 Sep 12 (25)
Little pancake grew to the length of Mama's foot (9"), but needed more syrup to reach two pounds.
(My dad says my feet are like pancakes.)
05 Oct 12 (26)
Flapjack short stack made it to two full pounds.
12 Oct 12 (27)
We're now into the third trimester, where length is measured from head to toe instead of head to rump.
MacBook Pro (15") doubled in weight this last month.
19 Oct 12 (28)
The little meathead could fit between wall studs (16") and weighed 10 quarter pounders.
26 Oct 12 (29)
Baby giraffe matched my height in August of '82 (17"), but weighed in short of 3 pounds.
(This means it's time to put on some serious weight. Babies have a responsibility to be cute if they expect to be cared for.)
13 Oct 12 (27) Bonus
08 October 2012
Folks in Austin
My parents came to visit for the last time before they become grandparents. It was their first chance to see the house, hear our piano since the restoration, and meet the in-laws. Taking advantage of our temporary freedom, George and I created a busy schedule including trips to Fredericksburg, Dripping Springs, Blanco, Houston, Lockhart, and San Marcos. Mom went crazy taking pictures, so I didn't take any; she sent me a few for this entry. We all had a great time, and I'm not just saying that for the memoirs.
Mom and Dad arrived on Thursday afternoon, Oct 4th, and we went hiking at the Enchanted Rock State Natural Area in Fredericksburg. The Enchanted Rock is a pink, granite exfoliation dome that covers 640 acres and rises 425 feet. We started with the Summit Trail Hike, which heads to the peak in just .6 miles. I was clearly the slowest moving of the four of us. After a tiring but beautiful afternoon, we had generous portions of chili cheese fries, burgers, and beers at Hopdoddy on South Congress. There was enough booze to get my parents flirting.
Friday morning, we were off to the Hamilton Pool Preserve in Dripping Springs. The swimming hole, which is tucked under a 50 foot waterfall and cave, was off limits due to bacteria from a recent rain. We hiked around the rest of the area, catching sight of a black water moccasin snake, two large angry bucks, and a crawfish in the Pedernales River. From there, we picked up pastries at a bakery called Rolling in Thyme and Dough, stopped for lunch at the Redbud Cafe, and met Betty Mallard for a visit at the Mollberg Piano Restoration Shop in Blanco. Bernard Mollberg and O.A. Watson were there, and we were treated to a lengthy visit and tour of the garden, pump house, cistern, shop, and house. Bernard Mollberg, as always, was exceptionally hospitable and charming. Betty Mallard and I played a couple of duets on a pretty Steinway Model "A" at the end of our visit. Back at home in Austin, we had crock pot brisket wraps with guacamole, and went out for dessert at Gourdough's donut trailer. George and I had heard from several friends that these were massive and amazing donuts, but we should have scoped it out first. What they had to offer was nothing special to us, and it couldn't have been for my parents, who come from the land of the Shopper's Food apple fritter. These donuts are not worth getting sick over; the Shopper's Food apple fritter is. We went to an entertaining production of "The Taming of the Shrew" by Ballet Austin, and slept like babies that night.
Sunday was our Austin day. We picked up breakfast from Taco Deli before attending church, where Dad sang a duet with my friend Malinda in lieu of the choral anthem. Mom ordered Vietnamese food for us at the Chinatown Center, and we topped it off with durian ice cream. It was time to visit a very empty Barton Springs; it was the first swim on the trip, and somehow, the weather dropped down into the 50s for the first afternoon since last year. I was very proud of Mom for getting in the cold water, and we celebrated with hot coffees before our 2.5 hour Hypnobirthing class. I couldn't believe Dad wanted to sit in for it, but he didn't seem too bored or uncomfortable. Afterwards, we saw "Frankenweenie" at the Alamo Drafthouse, and none of us liked it.
Monday was our last morning together. Again, it was in the 50s, and again, we jumped into cold water. This time, we were in the beautiful San Marcos River. The car heater felt great, and by the time we got home, we were toasty. Mom finished packing and had me cut her hair. George had to go back to work, so the three of us enjoyed a large eggplant pizza from Homeslice without him before the airport. It all happened so fast, but I'm glad they'll be back soon with my siblings to see the baby.
Mom and Dad arrived on Thursday afternoon, Oct 4th, and we went hiking at the Enchanted Rock State Natural Area in Fredericksburg. The Enchanted Rock is a pink, granite exfoliation dome that covers 640 acres and rises 425 feet. We started with the Summit Trail Hike, which heads to the peak in just .6 miles. I was clearly the slowest moving of the four of us. After a tiring but beautiful afternoon, we had generous portions of chili cheese fries, burgers, and beers at Hopdoddy on South Congress. There was enough booze to get my parents flirting.
Friday morning, we were off to the Hamilton Pool Preserve in Dripping Springs. The swimming hole, which is tucked under a 50 foot waterfall and cave, was off limits due to bacteria from a recent rain. We hiked around the rest of the area, catching sight of a black water moccasin snake, two large angry bucks, and a crawfish in the Pedernales River. From there, we picked up pastries at a bakery called Rolling in Thyme and Dough, stopped for lunch at the Redbud Cafe, and met Betty Mallard for a visit at the Mollberg Piano Restoration Shop in Blanco. Bernard Mollberg and O.A. Watson were there, and we were treated to a lengthy visit and tour of the garden, pump house, cistern, shop, and house. Bernard Mollberg, as always, was exceptionally hospitable and charming. Betty Mallard and I played a couple of duets on a pretty Steinway Model "A" at the end of our visit. Back at home in Austin, we had crock pot brisket wraps with guacamole, and went out for dessert at Gourdough's donut trailer. George and I had heard from several friends that these were massive and amazing donuts, but we should have scoped it out first. What they had to offer was nothing special to us, and it couldn't have been for my parents, who come from the land of the Shopper's Food apple fritter. These donuts are not worth getting sick over; the Shopper's Food apple fritter is. We went to an entertaining production of "The Taming of the Shrew" by Ballet Austin, and slept like babies that night.
We were in the car Saturday morning by 7 to visit the in-laws in Houston, where we spent the morning with my father-in-law, Buddy, and his wife Beverly. Next, we met my mother-in-law Linda for lunch at The Hobbit Cafe. I had an unforgettable seared tuna steak sandwich, with my generous cut "as raw as possible." Pregnant ladies aren't supposed to do that, but some of us only have so much self control. Mom stayed at the cafe and met up with 3 high school friends from Vietnam that she hadn't seen since 1975! The rest of us went shopping at The Village next to Rice University for a couple hours, before abducting Mom from the reunion to meet up with my brother-in-law Warren, his wife Christie, and our favorite nephews. A couple of hours down the road, we arrived at Black's Barbecue in Lockhart, and saw "Who's on First" at the Gaslight Baker Theater. My friend Celeste and her boyfriend Bill made up half the cast, and the play was great. Celeste seemed a little worried about the production, but it was funny, memorable, and one of the highlights of the day.
Sunday was our Austin day. We picked up breakfast from Taco Deli before attending church, where Dad sang a duet with my friend Malinda in lieu of the choral anthem. Mom ordered Vietnamese food for us at the Chinatown Center, and we topped it off with durian ice cream. It was time to visit a very empty Barton Springs; it was the first swim on the trip, and somehow, the weather dropped down into the 50s for the first afternoon since last year. I was very proud of Mom for getting in the cold water, and we celebrated with hot coffees before our 2.5 hour Hypnobirthing class. I couldn't believe Dad wanted to sit in for it, but he didn't seem too bored or uncomfortable. Afterwards, we saw "Frankenweenie" at the Alamo Drafthouse, and none of us liked it.
Monday was our last morning together. Again, it was in the 50s, and again, we jumped into cold water. This time, we were in the beautiful San Marcos River. The car heater felt great, and by the time we got home, we were toasty. Mom finished packing and had me cut her hair. George had to go back to work, so the three of us enjoyed a large eggplant pizza from Homeslice without him before the airport. It all happened so fast, but I'm glad they'll be back soon with my siblings to see the baby.
23 September 2012
177448 Epilogue
Thursday, 23 Aug 12
My return to the shop has been fun. It's good to see Osious, who's back after a month in Spain and France. Jack has been helping me learn something about chess, and brought a chessboard to the shop on both days. Celeste and I are deciding on a piano duet to play on The Volkert together. As a result, my lunch breaks have become rather lengthy, but you only live once.
Thursday, 30 Aug 12
Among several tasks this week, I sanded underlevers. The bottom underlever has a sanded curve, and the top one with the corner is brand new. There were some complications with The Volkert concerning the sostenuto (middle pedal), so Jack had to come in on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.
Thursday, 06 Sep 12
Celeste brought in a marvelous carrot cake on Monday, and I was asked to test drive The Volkert in order to ensure customer satisfaction. After I explained that some of the registers felt slower or heavier than others, Bernard removed lead in order to modify the drop weight and lift weight of certain keys by my visit on Thursday. The leads shown below were partially drilled out ever so neatly.
Over the weekend, the new rug arrived. On Monday, I brought the third and final payment to the shop, and Jack refined the dampers a final time. The Volkert will be coming home on Saturday!
I satinized keys for a 9-foot Baldwin, plugged bridge pin holes, and cleaned up my own casters on Thursday. Those casters had buildup from one year in the shop in addition to all the wear in Washington, but 3 paper towels and a generous amount of windex have them looking as good as new.
Saturday, 22 Sep 12
The Volkert arrived in our home, Castle Greyskull, at 6 pm. She fits right in.
Restoring the piano has been an incredible process, and I'm so grateful. My mom deserves my utmost gratitude, because she offered me a loan and encouraged me to quit my teaching job to do something I would enjoy more. The project clearly would never have been possible without her. I'd also like to thank my sweet George, who dealt with the Blanco dust all over his car, welcomed me home with terrific dinners, wiped the black lacquer from my arms and face, reminded me to stay hydrated, and willingly took care of us as I lost a paycheck. I'd like to thank my dad. Although he wasn't the strongest supporter from the beginning, I think he eventually became my biggest fan, and acted more interested than anybody else when I jabbered on. I'd like to thank his parents for giving me the piano, which I've named after my grandmother. Of course, The Volkert might be sitting in a junk yard somewhere, had I never run into the most excellent piano shop. A thousand thanks to Bernard, Jack, Osious, Celeste, and Nathan for being so competent and welcoming. I've learned a lot from them, but more importantly, they are wonderful people.
My return to the shop has been fun. It's good to see Osious, who's back after a month in Spain and France. Jack has been helping me learn something about chess, and brought a chessboard to the shop on both days. Celeste and I are deciding on a piano duet to play on The Volkert together. As a result, my lunch breaks have become rather lengthy, but you only live once.
Thursday, 30 Aug 12
Among several tasks this week, I sanded underlevers. The bottom underlever has a sanded curve, and the top one with the corner is brand new. There were some complications with The Volkert concerning the sostenuto (middle pedal), so Jack had to come in on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.
Thursday, 06 Sep 12
Celeste brought in a marvelous carrot cake on Monday, and I was asked to test drive The Volkert in order to ensure customer satisfaction. After I explained that some of the registers felt slower or heavier than others, Bernard removed lead in order to modify the drop weight and lift weight of certain keys by my visit on Thursday. The leads shown below were partially drilled out ever so neatly.
Thursday, 13 Sep 12
The Volkert is almost done. I played it on Monday and Thursday, and it truly is a lovely instrument. I took home Grandma's casters at the end of the week.
On Wednesday, the rug George and I ordered to go under the piano came, and it was the WRONG shade of grey. After a panic attack and a phone call to overstock.com, we got it packed up with a return label and ordered a different rug immediately. Close one.
Here's a picture of backchecks just because backchecks are nice.
Thursday, 20 Sep 12The Volkert is almost done. I played it on Monday and Thursday, and it truly is a lovely instrument. I took home Grandma's casters at the end of the week.
On Wednesday, the rug George and I ordered to go under the piano came, and it was the WRONG shade of grey. After a panic attack and a phone call to overstock.com, we got it packed up with a return label and ordered a different rug immediately. Close one.
Here's a picture of backchecks just because backchecks are nice.
Over the weekend, the new rug arrived. On Monday, I brought the third and final payment to the shop, and Jack refined the dampers a final time. The Volkert will be coming home on Saturday!
I satinized keys for a 9-foot Baldwin, plugged bridge pin holes, and cleaned up my own casters on Thursday. Those casters had buildup from one year in the shop in addition to all the wear in Washington, but 3 paper towels and a generous amount of windex have them looking as good as new.
Saturday, 22 Sep 12
The Volkert arrived in our home, Castle Greyskull, at 6 pm. She fits right in.
Restoring the piano has been an incredible process, and I'm so grateful. My mom deserves my utmost gratitude, because she offered me a loan and encouraged me to quit my teaching job to do something I would enjoy more. The project clearly would never have been possible without her. I'd also like to thank my sweet George, who dealt with the Blanco dust all over his car, welcomed me home with terrific dinners, wiped the black lacquer from my arms and face, reminded me to stay hydrated, and willingly took care of us as I lost a paycheck. I'd like to thank my dad. Although he wasn't the strongest supporter from the beginning, I think he eventually became my biggest fan, and acted more interested than anybody else when I jabbered on. I'd like to thank his parents for giving me the piano, which I've named after my grandmother. Of course, The Volkert might be sitting in a junk yard somewhere, had I never run into the most excellent piano shop. A thousand thanks to Bernard, Jack, Osious, Celeste, and Nathan for being so competent and welcoming. I've learned a lot from them, but more importantly, they are wonderful people.
END
29 August 2012
Legally Bored
At 8:30 this morning, my name was legally changed to Lan-Thạch Từ Kratzke. My parents named me Lan-Thạch Pauline Kratzke 30 years ago. I assume the problem was caused by my father, who named me after his mother. He really could have done better. The rest of my grandmother's names are very nice: Ruth Pauline (Volkert) Kratzke.
In Vietnam, everybody goes by the second half of their first names, so my name there would be Thạch. In the US, people pronounce Thạch as "That," which is nauseating. As a baby, I started going by Lan. Lan (orchid) is less fitting than Thạch (stone), but sometimes life is all about compromise. Unfortunately, in my later elementary school days, I learned that people couldn't even pronounce Lan. More often than not, it came out as "LaWn" or "L-anne" or even "Lane." Thus, I switched to the dreadful one. Everybody can pronounce Pauline. Pauline means "little" or "humble" or "younger." These are not fitting words for me, and they are not fitting for my grandmother. The sound itself manages to be ugly and overly feminine all at once. Furthermore, it has nothing to do with what my wonderful mother (Diệm Trân Từ Kratzke, or Từ Thị Diệm Trân) named me. Thankfully, as I entered high school, I came to my senses and thought, "To hell with what other people can pronounce." I became Lan once again. My mother calls me Lan, so everybody else can, too. Of course, if you would like to call me Thạch and not "That," that would be splendid.
And then I got married. I never considered changing my last name, but found that many people expected me to. After explaining several times that there is no need to erase my last name in accordance with sexist traditions, I began to grow agitated that my own mother's maiden name was being lost through me. I may be rash, but I try to be consistent. And for those who ask why I don't start stringing along chains of names with even more hyphens, I say, "Please." Because it is unbecoming. One hyphen is plenty.
George and I decided to change my name a couple of years ago, and found out that it requires a lot of forms and people and buildings and stamps and driving and fees. We put it off in hopes that we would stop caring and could avoid the hassle, but that never happened. And then I got pregnant. After very little discussion, we both agreed that if we have a little girl, we would give her my last name, "Kratzke." So you know what that means. I couldn't not be a Từ and name my child Kratzke; only a littler, humbler, or younger person would do that.
To be a real Lan-Thạch Từ Kratzke, first you have to print out a petition and fill out those forms. Then you have to get that notarized. Then you have to go to a fingerprint place a pay them for some more forms. Then you have to take all those forms and go to an office in a court building and get more forms and meet with somebody and pay them $243. I'm serious. Then you have to wait until court is open and show up at the right time and wait for over an hour. Then you have to talk to a judge who signs one of the forms. Then you have to find the right office in the court building again and have them stamp the forms. Only then is your name changed. George and I started that process before our trip to Virginia and we finished most of it yesterday. Today at 8:30, I completed the last step. Today I also have jury duty.
In Vietnam, everybody goes by the second half of their first names, so my name there would be Thạch. In the US, people pronounce Thạch as "That," which is nauseating. As a baby, I started going by Lan. Lan (orchid) is less fitting than Thạch (stone), but sometimes life is all about compromise. Unfortunately, in my later elementary school days, I learned that people couldn't even pronounce Lan. More often than not, it came out as "LaWn" or "L-anne" or even "Lane." Thus, I switched to the dreadful one. Everybody can pronounce Pauline. Pauline means "little" or "humble" or "younger." These are not fitting words for me, and they are not fitting for my grandmother. The sound itself manages to be ugly and overly feminine all at once. Furthermore, it has nothing to do with what my wonderful mother (Diệm Trân Từ Kratzke, or Từ Thị Diệm Trân) named me. Thankfully, as I entered high school, I came to my senses and thought, "To hell with what other people can pronounce." I became Lan once again. My mother calls me Lan, so everybody else can, too. Of course, if you would like to call me Thạch and not "That," that would be splendid.
And then I got married. I never considered changing my last name, but found that many people expected me to. After explaining several times that there is no need to erase my last name in accordance with sexist traditions, I began to grow agitated that my own mother's maiden name was being lost through me. I may be rash, but I try to be consistent. And for those who ask why I don't start stringing along chains of names with even more hyphens, I say, "Please." Because it is unbecoming. One hyphen is plenty.
George and I decided to change my name a couple of years ago, and found out that it requires a lot of forms and people and buildings and stamps and driving and fees. We put it off in hopes that we would stop caring and could avoid the hassle, but that never happened. And then I got pregnant. After very little discussion, we both agreed that if we have a little girl, we would give her my last name, "Kratzke." So you know what that means. I couldn't not be a Từ and name my child Kratzke; only a littler, humbler, or younger person would do that.
To be a real Lan-Thạch Từ Kratzke, first you have to print out a petition and fill out those forms. Then you have to get that notarized. Then you have to go to a fingerprint place a pay them for some more forms. Then you have to take all those forms and go to an office in a court building and get more forms and meet with somebody and pay them $243. I'm serious. Then you have to wait until court is open and show up at the right time and wait for over an hour. Then you have to talk to a judge who signs one of the forms. Then you have to find the right office in the court building again and have them stamp the forms. Only then is your name changed. George and I started that process before our trip to Virginia and we finished most of it yesterday. Today at 8:30, I completed the last step. Today I also have jury duty.
I arrived by 9:00 as requested. They had us sit on a bench for an hour. When the hour was up, they had us stand in a line for 15 minutes. We weren't waiting for anything in particular, but we had to be standing in a line. Eventually, all 20 of us were ushered into a room, given numbers, and instructed to sit in order. They take the first six they can. I was number 17, so it was very unlikely that I would be selected. For the next 45 minutes, we listened to a condescending lawyer explaining some things about a traffic violation that disrupted the "peace and dignity of the land" was therefore a "class C criminal offense" or something like that. The lawyer, who shall be called Beadle from this point forward, represented the state of Texas and thought very highly of himself. Beadle asked us questions so he could choose the six jurors that would most likely side with him. He started by asking us questions such as "what is traffic?" or "why do we have laws?" It was like those awful discussion classes that some educators believe in.
Then, he asked us a series of four questions that we were to answer individually. The first was whether or not we were comfortable with the fact that intentions don't matter because the law is the law. When my dad taught me how to drive, he said that traffic laws are guidelines to keep people safe when they are trying to travel between two points. To this day, that's what I think of traffic laws. In other words, I have no moral objection to breaking traffic laws if the driver is making safe decisions. Although laws and safety are related, people can drive dangerously following the laws or drive safely while breaking them. Last year, I saw a Westlake cop create a big scene, screeching his tires and pulling around in front of a bunch of trucks like a jackass so he could pick up a fine from some poor guy who was probably going 35 in a 30. And that is what I think of cops.
We were going down the line, one juror at a time, and everybody thought it was okay that intentions don't matter. We kept getting closer to number 17, and I was all excited to be the first one to disagree and disqualify myself. Unfortunately, he stopped after juror 15, since jurors 16-20 very rarely get selected. Beadle's second question was worse. He asked whether or not we were comfortable with the fact that according to Texas law, one witness (regardless of who Beadle is paying or sleeping with) is as good as 2,000 witnesses if that witness could prove something "beyond a reasonable doubt." I could not wait to disagree. I don't trust Beadle one bit, or his smarmy witness! But, alas. Once again, Beadle stopped on juror 15. His third question went something like this: "I really am an attorney, even though I look so young and dashing. I'm a sleek city lawyer. I have a lot of experience with the law and have studied it extensively. The defendant is choosing to represent herself and is not a lawyer. Would anybody therefore hold any sort of bias towards the defendant?" He asked jurors one and two, who said they would have no bias. He looked at all 20 of us and asked, "Would anybody have a bias?" My hand shot up from the back row. Beadle pointed a pen at me and said, "Yes, Ms..." and then started fumbling through his papers to find my name. I cut Beadle off. "It doesn't matter," I announced, "and I would favor the defendant." Of course, nobody cared because I was juror 17. It felt good to say it anyway, though, and I considered myself to be under oath despite the fact that I was too irritated to say, "I do" when we were being sworn in. His fourth question regarded the definition of "reasonable doubt." I would at this point like to point out that while Beadle feels that the term "reasonable doubt" requires a definition, he would rather define it after asking us a question involving the term. Happily, I was out of there by 11:00.
Speaking of being legally bored, it is time for Lan-Thạch Từ Kratzke to call "various agencies" which include, but are not limited to, the Department of State Health Services (birth certificate), the Texas Department of Public Safety (drivers license), and the Social Security Administration (social security card). Sigh. It's tough work being such a very reasonable person.
21 August 2012
Tu Reunion
This entry is going to be boring, but such are the nature of memoirs (and my entire blog, for that matter). Family reunions don't happen all the time, and it's nice to remember them. My mom, all four of her siblings, all their kids, and Bà were there.
Anyway, I wanted to be topless at Barton Springs at least once before I turned 30, so there I was on Friday night. George and I left Austin on Saturday August 11th at 5:15 in the morning and arrived in Virginia eight hours later. Almost immediately, we were on our way to visit my good friends Jenny & Jason and their two daughters. Mackenzie is two years old, Brigitte is two months old, and the sisters share the same birthday. George and I headed back to eat at Pho New with 17 relatives: Bà, Mom, Dad, Thal, Bác Thuần, Bác Hương, Nicholas, Eastlyn, Nathan, Cậu Hiệp, Cô Mai, Alli, Karen, Matt, Cậu Tùng, Cô Trinh, and Annie. I also ordered a childhood favorite, sương xa hột lựu (the pink drink), and it was the best one I ever had.
Sunday and Monday were wonderful. Mom rented lodgings at Skyland Resort in Shenandoah National Park so we could hike all day and stay the night there. Cô Mai, Alli, Karen, Matt, Bác Hương, and Eastlyn came along. I think they had fun, even if hiking isn't their favorite activity. George, Mom, Dad, and I went on three beautiful hikes, and the weather couldn't have been better. I got pretty nostalgic when I ordered blackberry ice cream; Liên knows what I'm talking about.
If the "dirty thirty" thing starts with waking up to clean crisp mountain air in the middle of August surrounded by the people you love, I'm all for it. We ate peaches and apples from a fruit stand on the way back and stopped again for lunch. Sitting across from my little cousin Eastlyn made me realize how wonderful she is. When we got home, Alli (just 21), Matt (almost 18), and I (30 since 11:43 am Pacific Time) got kicked out of the house and stayed at the pool for three hours while George and Mom made a dinner for all the August birthdays. George made one of my favorite dishes, caramel fish in a clay pot, or cá kho tộ. He served it in a very pretty clay pot he bought for me. Mom made fish soup, and together, the two of them used ten pounds of trout. When everybody was too full to move, we started in on the birthday cake.
Tuesday was fun. In the morning, George and I walked to Frying Pan Park and saw a bunch of farm animals. Everybody but Karen, George, and I went to visit Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. The three of us had Milwaukee's Frozen Custard for breakfast, which means chocolate dipped waffle cones with cheesecake cookies 'n' cream vanilla frozen custard. It held us over just fine. We walked around Wolftrap National Park for the Performing Arts, Meadowlark Botanical Gardens, and the 250 air-conditioned shops of Tysons Corner. We also cleaned mom's very dirty car and taught Karen how to drive stick. She's a natural. George and I picked up Mom and Thal's Girlfriend Hannah before the whole gang met for dinner at Viet Royale in the Eden Center. Everybody had the "Seven Course Beef," which is exactly what it sounds like but with an extra course for dessert. Amazing.
Food is a big deal. Eight hours of Wednesday was dedicated to Cậu Tùng's magnificent barbecue. He served lobster, marinated chicken, baby back ribs, red snapper, tilapia, grilled veggies, fresh jackfruit, fresh lychee, cantaloupe, a giant watermelon, beer, wine coolers, and limeade. Cậu Tùng is a fantastic cook, and it was quite the feast. In the morning, George and I visited my high school piano teacher Betty Reed and a refreshing swim. After the barbecue, Alli and little Nathan stayed up with us to watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
On Thursday, Bác Thuần, Bác Hương, Nicholas, Eastlyn, Nathan, Alli, Karen, Matt, George, and I had a Panera Bread picnic at Riverbend Park and walked from there to Great Falls Park. In the evening, everybody but Bác Thuần's family went to see Cirque du Soleil's Totem at the National Harbor in DC. Mom bought tickets for George and me for my birthday! What a terrific and memorable present. Other birthday presents included a Shenandoah Park onesie from Cô Mai, a Gap gift certificate from Bác Hương, a nice card with cash from Cậu Hiệp, and a beautiful Kitchen Aid standmixer from my prince charming. I am seriously spoiled.
Friday morning was the first time I felt our baby kick me. George and I celebrated by picking up colossal donuts and world famous apple fritters from Shoppers Food Warehouse. A Starbucks apple fritter has about 800 calories, and I'm willing to bet they're lightweight compared to Shoppers. Their apple fritters are something amazing; they are better tasting and worse for you than carnival food.
After a swim, Bà, Mom, Hannah, Bác Thuần, Bác Hương, Nicholas, Eastlyn, Nathan, Alli, Karen, Matt, George, and I went out for Pho and then Fountainhead Regional Park, to rent boats on the Occoquan Reservoir. Bà, Mom, George and I went on a hike in the shade instead. We were about a mile in when we realized we were stuck on a mountain bike trail and we weren't supposed to be there. A few bicyclists came through, but we were able to get off the trail before getting run over. It was a little disconcerting, and Bà was a trooper. Mom, George, and I returned home and met up with Dad and my high school friend Tina to see a Nationals baseball game against the Mets. Even though we only watched innings 3-7, we saw Morse hit a grand slam. My mom cheered enthusiastically throughout the game, and we all had a great time.
At home, my awesome baby brother bought ingredients to make one of my favorite treats: the beer float. He picked the Oak Barrel Stout brewed by Old Dominion, and it was perfect. We had to stay up packing to catch our 6:55 am flight the next morning.
The trip was great. I missed my little sister a lot, but it was wonderful to see everybody else. I especially adore all my girl cousins, whom I don't get to see very often. They're great people.
Bà, of course, is always a delight.
Siblings: Bác Thuần, Cô Mai, Mom, Cậu Tùng, and Cậu Hiệp
Sunday and Monday were wonderful. Mom rented lodgings at Skyland Resort in Shenandoah National Park so we could hike all day and stay the night there. Cô Mai, Alli, Karen, Matt, Bác Hương, and Eastlyn came along. I think they had fun, even if hiking isn't their favorite activity. George, Mom, Dad, and I went on three beautiful hikes, and the weather couldn't have been better. I got pretty nostalgic when I ordered blackberry ice cream; Liên knows what I'm talking about.
Nobody else's mom is this cute. I should get some sort of award.
If the "dirty thirty" thing starts with waking up to clean crisp mountain air in the middle of August surrounded by the people you love, I'm all for it. We ate peaches and apples from a fruit stand on the way back and stopped again for lunch. Sitting across from my little cousin Eastlyn made me realize how wonderful she is. When we got home, Alli (just 21), Matt (almost 18), and I (30 since 11:43 am Pacific Time) got kicked out of the house and stayed at the pool for three hours while George and Mom made a dinner for all the August birthdays. George made one of my favorite dishes, caramel fish in a clay pot, or cá kho tộ. He served it in a very pretty clay pot he bought for me. Mom made fish soup, and together, the two of them used ten pounds of trout. When everybody was too full to move, we started in on the birthday cake.
Tuesday was fun. In the morning, George and I walked to Frying Pan Park and saw a bunch of farm animals. Everybody but Karen, George, and I went to visit Monticello, the home of Thomas Jefferson. The three of us had Milwaukee's Frozen Custard for breakfast, which means chocolate dipped waffle cones with cheesecake cookies 'n' cream vanilla frozen custard. It held us over just fine. We walked around Wolftrap National Park for the Performing Arts, Meadowlark Botanical Gardens, and the 250 air-conditioned shops of Tysons Corner. We also cleaned mom's very dirty car and taught Karen how to drive stick. She's a natural. George and I picked up Mom and Thal's Girlfriend Hannah before the whole gang met for dinner at Viet Royale in the Eden Center. Everybody had the "Seven Course Beef," which is exactly what it sounds like but with an extra course for dessert. Amazing.
Food is a big deal. Eight hours of Wednesday was dedicated to Cậu Tùng's magnificent barbecue. He served lobster, marinated chicken, baby back ribs, red snapper, tilapia, grilled veggies, fresh jackfruit, fresh lychee, cantaloupe, a giant watermelon, beer, wine coolers, and limeade. Cậu Tùng is a fantastic cook, and it was quite the feast. In the morning, George and I visited my high school piano teacher Betty Reed and a refreshing swim. After the barbecue, Alli and little Nathan stayed up with us to watch The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
The hat reads, "Happy 50th, King of the Grill." I hope I get these aging genes.
On Thursday, Bác Thuần, Bác Hương, Nicholas, Eastlyn, Nathan, Alli, Karen, Matt, George, and I had a Panera Bread picnic at Riverbend Park and walked from there to Great Falls Park. In the evening, everybody but Bác Thuần's family went to see Cirque du Soleil's Totem at the National Harbor in DC. Mom bought tickets for George and me for my birthday! What a terrific and memorable present. Other birthday presents included a Shenandoah Park onesie from Cô Mai, a Gap gift certificate from Bác Hương, a nice card with cash from Cậu Hiệp, and a beautiful Kitchen Aid standmixer from my prince charming. I am seriously spoiled.
Nicholas, Eastlyn, and Nathan at Riverbend
Friday morning was the first time I felt our baby kick me. George and I celebrated by picking up colossal donuts and world famous apple fritters from Shoppers Food Warehouse. A Starbucks apple fritter has about 800 calories, and I'm willing to bet they're lightweight compared to Shoppers. Their apple fritters are something amazing; they are better tasting and worse for you than carnival food.
After a swim, Bà, Mom, Hannah, Bác Thuần, Bác Hương, Nicholas, Eastlyn, Nathan, Alli, Karen, Matt, George, and I went out for Pho and then Fountainhead Regional Park, to rent boats on the Occoquan Reservoir. Bà, Mom, George and I went on a hike in the shade instead. We were about a mile in when we realized we were stuck on a mountain bike trail and we weren't supposed to be there. A few bicyclists came through, but we were able to get off the trail before getting run over. It was a little disconcerting, and Bà was a trooper. Mom, George, and I returned home and met up with Dad and my high school friend Tina to see a Nationals baseball game against the Mets. Even though we only watched innings 3-7, we saw Morse hit a grand slam. My mom cheered enthusiastically throughout the game, and we all had a great time.
Nicholas and Bác Thuần at Fountainhead
At home, my awesome baby brother bought ingredients to make one of my favorite treats: the beer float. He picked the Oak Barrel Stout brewed by Old Dominion, and it was perfect. We had to stay up packing to catch our 6:55 am flight the next morning.
The trip was great. I missed my little sister a lot, but it was wonderful to see everybody else. I especially adore all my girl cousins, whom I don't get to see very often. They're great people.
Alli, Eastlyn, and Karen
Bà, of course, is always a delight.
Bà and Eastlyn
And even though they were stupid when I was thirteen, I love seeing the folks. They'll come visit our new house in just six weeks.
I really do love my family.
10 August 2012
177448 (9/9)
Friday, 15 Jun 12
On Tuesday and Friday, I fiddled around with my piano most unproductively, and then sanded and applied shellac to two other inner rims. Bernard says that even though nobody will ever see the clean amber inner rims, he just can't let a piano out of his shop without being so thorough. What a guy.
Friday, 22 Jun 12
It was a fantastic week in the shop. On Monday, George came and worked on The Volkert with me for our 3-year anniversary. Afterwards, we ate 5 plates at Austin's Chez Zee, to the shock of our waiter. For our second anniversary, we went on the skycoaster with Dr. Mallard, and George nearly drowned in Lady Bird Lake during our first. Always a new adventure.
The most exciting task was replacing the short stick on the lid prop. Bernard, always helpful, offered us a beautiful nickel short stick to replace the original brass one. George and I cut it down to an attractive size, filed it off, and drilled a fitting hole in the lid with the appropriate forstner bit. Of course, we were in the good hands of Celeste the entire time.
On Friday, Osious and I were at the shop to receive a Model D from the Van Cliburn Foundation. Built in 1996 and picked by Van Cliburn himself, this is the youngest piano the shop has ever taken. The signature on the plate pictured below is by Henry Z. Steinway (1915-2008), the great-grandson of founder Henry E. Steinway (1797-1871).
Friday, 29 Jun 12
On Tuesday and Friday, I sanded parts for a Model L. The highlight was Bernard showing me a great way to fix a dent. First, you stab the wood with a knife (pictured below), and pry it out towards the surface. Then you flood the area with superglue and force epoxy into the crack. After everything dries, it sands down nice and cleans up real purty.
Thursday, 05 Jul 12
On Monday and Thursday, I sanded the lid and the body of the Model L. Celeste, George, and I had stripped the lacquer from the body during the morning of June 18th, so I've seen it morph from a beat up black piano to the mahogany wood shown below. It had gotten quite scratched up from some railing at a church, so I filled the low spots with blue autobody filler. Bernard says it takes a lot of smurfs to make it.
Thursday, 12 Jul 12
On Monday and Thursday, Jack installed all the dampers on The Volkert. That means that most of the vibrations are now stopped when a key is released, which is a huge deal.
Meanwhile, I worked alongside Celeste in filling Mahogany pores and sanding 2 plates. At one point, Celeste and I, try as we might, couldn't get a row of agraffes to budge. Bernard helped us modify our tools and soak the joints, but to no avail. So then, guess what happened. He took the agraffe tool and undid them one by one, straight down the row with brute force. What a He-Man!
Thursday, 19 Jul 12
On Monday, Jack tuned The Volkert for the first time since it was strung, and Celeste and I reinforced the backchecks with superglue. On Thursday, the two of us stripped a Mason & Hamlin, and it was messy business. Pretty Celeste is pictured below.
Thursday, 26 Jul 12
Celeste and I rubbed out two soundboards and cleaned up some trapwork on Monday. I mostly worked alone on Thursday, leveling parts for the Mason & Hamlin. In the picture below, the black pieces to the music desk still need a lot of work.
Thursday, 02 Aug 12
It's August, the month Celeste and I turn a year older. Celeste brought a watermelon to share on Thursday, and we blended it at Bernard's place during lunch. Bernard also offered us vegetarian gumbo and rice made by Melissa, and it was terrific.
On Monday, I removed several deep fingernail scratches in the fallboard of the Van Cliburn piano. This meant I could be erasing marks made by (but not limited to) the following superstars: Alfred Brendel, Vladimir Feltsman, Evgeny Kissin, Lang Lang, Radu Lupu, Murray Perahia, Arcadi Volodos, and Andre Watts. I was the Zamboni following a clan of Michelle Kwans.
Thursday, 09 Aug 12
Jack came in on Monday and left The Volkert with a working sustain pedal. Pictured below in the keybed are some of the under levers and damper wires that are exposed during his work. George took me to the shop on Thursday so he could enjoy the beautiful atmosphere and hear me play on our piano. Celeste helped me glue new felt to the bottom of the fallboard, a task I did poorly a month ago.
Before I obtained a loan from my parents, George had promised me we could put The Volkert in the shop on August 13, the day I turn 30. As I type this entry, it is August 10th, and my piano is near completion. When it's ready, it will have a nice new home. Two days from today will mark my one year anniversary of working at Mollberg Piano Restoration. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
On Tuesday and Friday, I fiddled around with my piano most unproductively, and then sanded and applied shellac to two other inner rims. Bernard says that even though nobody will ever see the clean amber inner rims, he just can't let a piano out of his shop without being so thorough. What a guy.
Friday, 22 Jun 12
It was a fantastic week in the shop. On Monday, George came and worked on The Volkert with me for our 3-year anniversary. Afterwards, we ate 5 plates at Austin's Chez Zee, to the shock of our waiter. For our second anniversary, we went on the skycoaster with Dr. Mallard, and George nearly drowned in Lady Bird Lake during our first. Always a new adventure.
The most exciting task was replacing the short stick on the lid prop. Bernard, always helpful, offered us a beautiful nickel short stick to replace the original brass one. George and I cut it down to an attractive size, filed it off, and drilled a fitting hole in the lid with the appropriate forstner bit. Of course, we were in the good hands of Celeste the entire time.
On Friday, Osious and I were at the shop to receive a Model D from the Van Cliburn Foundation. Built in 1996 and picked by Van Cliburn himself, this is the youngest piano the shop has ever taken. The signature on the plate pictured below is by Henry Z. Steinway (1915-2008), the great-grandson of founder Henry E. Steinway (1797-1871).
On Tuesday and Friday, I sanded parts for a Model L. The highlight was Bernard showing me a great way to fix a dent. First, you stab the wood with a knife (pictured below), and pry it out towards the surface. Then you flood the area with superglue and force epoxy into the crack. After everything dries, it sands down nice and cleans up real purty.
On Monday and Thursday, I sanded the lid and the body of the Model L. Celeste, George, and I had stripped the lacquer from the body during the morning of June 18th, so I've seen it morph from a beat up black piano to the mahogany wood shown below. It had gotten quite scratched up from some railing at a church, so I filled the low spots with blue autobody filler. Bernard says it takes a lot of smurfs to make it.
On Monday and Thursday, Jack installed all the dampers on The Volkert. That means that most of the vibrations are now stopped when a key is released, which is a huge deal.
Meanwhile, I worked alongside Celeste in filling Mahogany pores and sanding 2 plates. At one point, Celeste and I, try as we might, couldn't get a row of agraffes to budge. Bernard helped us modify our tools and soak the joints, but to no avail. So then, guess what happened. He took the agraffe tool and undid them one by one, straight down the row with brute force. What a He-Man!
On Monday, Jack tuned The Volkert for the first time since it was strung, and Celeste and I reinforced the backchecks with superglue. On Thursday, the two of us stripped a Mason & Hamlin, and it was messy business. Pretty Celeste is pictured below.
Celeste and I rubbed out two soundboards and cleaned up some trapwork on Monday. I mostly worked alone on Thursday, leveling parts for the Mason & Hamlin. In the picture below, the black pieces to the music desk still need a lot of work.
It's August, the month Celeste and I turn a year older. Celeste brought a watermelon to share on Thursday, and we blended it at Bernard's place during lunch. Bernard also offered us vegetarian gumbo and rice made by Melissa, and it was terrific.
On Monday, I removed several deep fingernail scratches in the fallboard of the Van Cliburn piano. This meant I could be erasing marks made by (but not limited to) the following superstars: Alfred Brendel, Vladimir Feltsman, Evgeny Kissin, Lang Lang, Radu Lupu, Murray Perahia, Arcadi Volodos, and Andre Watts. I was the Zamboni following a clan of Michelle Kwans.
Jack came in on Monday and left The Volkert with a working sustain pedal. Pictured below in the keybed are some of the under levers and damper wires that are exposed during his work. George took me to the shop on Thursday so he could enjoy the beautiful atmosphere and hear me play on our piano. Celeste helped me glue new felt to the bottom of the fallboard, a task I did poorly a month ago.
Before I obtained a loan from my parents, George had promised me we could put The Volkert in the shop on August 13, the day I turn 30. As I type this entry, it is August 10th, and my piano is near completion. When it's ready, it will have a nice new home. Two days from today will mark my one year anniversary of working at Mollberg Piano Restoration. Thanks, Mom and Dad!
END PART IX
02 August 2012
The Dark Wife Rises
Some of what excites George in the movie theaters leaves me bored and uninspired. Over the past few years, we've gone to see Resident Evil, Zombieland, Transformers II, Thor, The Avengers, and Spiderman upon his request. To say I hated them would be an exaggeration, but to say I thought they were worth movie ticket prices would be an outrage. Thus, I was disheartened when my sister reported that she wanted to take back the 3 hours of her life spent on The Dark Knight Rises. She usually likes movies more than I do, and can very easily predict which movies I should avoid. George, of course, has been extremely excited about the new Batman movie. Just to prepare us for the IMAX experience, he tried to show me Batman Begins. Admittedly, I was a terrible wifee, complaining and talking through the first 20 minutes until he couldn't take it anymore and we turned it off.
Last night, George the confident giant Texan claimed he could eat a watermelon of any size on his own. Our friend Emily and I told him there was no way, so we made a bet. If he could do it, I would keep my mouth shut and watch the Batman movies with him. If I won, he had to wait for The Dark Knight Rises to come out on bluray. It was a deal. To his credit, he got two-thirds of the way through.
Poor, sweet George. His stomach hurts so bad.
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