Why I work

Originally posted circa August 3, 2004:

Latest bulletin from the Olde Dominion, the Commonwealth; from Columbia, the gem of the Ocean.

Aunt Rolene sent me a very nice email about setting aside some special time with Diane. Thank you, Aunt Rolene: I took off both Saturday AND Sunday from work to spend special time with Diane and to give Diane some li'l tyke respite.

Diane has been acutely ill (a cold) from a little sniffle Isabel caught, and then spread to the rest of the family (Isabel and I were least affected), so we've spent extra time in bed, recovering ... I think I actually slept 4 hours last night, *WOW*. Besides the colds, the whole family is in excellent spirits. Isabel woke me this morning, on time: 7 am on the dot, with her joyful, open-mouthed, squawks. Elena Marie had already left with her Mama to shower and then to leap into her dress; after that, she joined us in bed, entertaining Isabel, who was delighted to see her Ate (big sister).

I've restarted my martial arts training, practicing kenjutsu every night, which I enjoy very much (and which is making writing this email difficult: my arms are heavy). I've also been playing through a game of go every night (not last night, unfortunately): specializing in the games of Takemiya Masaki, as I'm best able to understand and to play his moyo (center-oriented) style in my games.

So, I was preparing to leave for work this morning, kissing each of my darlings goodbye. Elena Marie enjoys the leave-taking, cheeringly shouting a "Bye!" Diane rushed me out the door, as Isabel is now able to crawl from the dining room to the front door with speed. But Diane queried Elena Marie first: "Why does Papa go to work?" Elena Marie looked at her mama quizzically. Diane pressed forward: "... so Elena can ...?" Elena Marie didn't answer the question, just shouted out another "Bye!" to her departing Papa, and then went out to the entrance to wave.

All who work are called to answer that unanswered question (first posed in music by Charles Ives), and I believe that my answers are pretty much the same as every other working person's, but sometimes it's good to summarize them and then meditate on them.

1. Because I can: I'm blessed with ability and with a task to which I can apply that ability


2. Because it's my vocation to provide for (and to protect) my family, and the fruits of my work give that.


3. Because I learn from work, about myself, about others, and about the things which my work affects


4. So I can return home a better husband and father


5. So others can return home to their families and friends


6. So the country and the world can be a better place.

Insh'Allah.

So, I'm off to do that.

After writing this email, my sweetie called me. She had arrived, and parked outside the facility so that Elena Marie could complete her message. I strolled through three sets of armed guards, two check-points and a gated barbed-wire fence to rendez-vous with them in our little Mazda so I could hear the special message:

Diane: "Elena, Papa goes to work to give Mama ..."
Elena: *smile* *look* *look* "Pera!"
Diane: "So that Elena may buy ..."
Elena: "dresses!" *bounce-bounce* "And, Elena tried them on and turned around!" (Elena Marie exults in modelling her acquisitions)

Diane then handed me a tin full of muffins (Elena Marie had been asking to 'bake a cake' this morning): "Elena, what are we giving Papa?"
Elena: "'anana mffins!"

With her message delivered, Elena's mission was complete. "Bye!" she cheerily dismissed me. I waved them off, and walked back to the facility, knowing why I was returning to work.

Back in the Groove

It's been over a week since my last email, and, as I promised my sweetie daily email reports ("I'm here; I'm alive; I'm happy"), I'm sure I've caused at least one person some consternation. But there it is — I've spent the last week in bed, with an illness that has been, thankfully, only inconvenient and fatiguing, so I've been out of the loop during that time.

I started to get back into the groove on Sunday when I went to Mass, and then, in the evening, I exercised (which felt very good) and played through a game of Go (my model, Takemiya, lost because of one single misjudged play, at play 43 (a game lasts usually 250 plays), so I wasn't extremely happy about that, especially since the rest of the game was excellent ... I should play though it again, channeling his challenger, O Reissi, because his play was sharp, inventive and brilliant).

This morning I woke up chipper. I said, "Today, I am going to work!" and felt very happy. Funny, the majority of heart attacks occur Monday morning: people would rather die than return to work. But, for me, as you know, my work gives me pleasure, fulfillment, and the opportunity to create and to serve. Today, at work, was a good day: productive and cordial (as usual, things were in a state of near pandemonium, but I was serene throughout ... probably confirming in some minds that I am the representation of Loki here on Earth, but so it goes).

Speaking of Norse mythology, the weather here has been rather Visigoth: cold, gray and wet. I love it! I don't care what the studies say: if every day were like this, I would be in my element, as it were — an expectant thundershower with peals of lightening and a torrential downpour would be a very nice addition, as well. By the time Diane and the children return (1 December, with her brother, YAAAY!) I expect several layers of snow on the ground. All I need are two goats, two ravens and one giant-slaying hammer (Hmmmm, I already have "god's own hammer" as my friend Mike Wuerthele called the mallet he and I used to be creative with the various home-improvement projects going on in the basement) to complete the picture.

Ummmmm, yeah.

Had a bit of a Fall cleaning of the house today, so everything's pristine: 2 loads of laundry, change of bedsheets, bathroom sparkling, dishes done. A new house, and a new me. Just lying on the bed for a second felt very sweet (and I would've fallen asleep and slept through the night if I hadn't stood up right away — first day back at work was a shock to the system after a week in bed)! Treated myself special tonight by having a bit of supper and then a latte and choco-coconut bun (I know, I know, but I hope the carb blocker and the exercise later tonight will cancel it out).

So with the paperwork (mostly) up-to-day, the house cleaned, and a recovered self, I'm back in the grove.

Time to sweep the deck, to exercise, to play through a game of Go, and to hit the S-A-C-K!

"Really strange" guy

Originally posted November 8, 2004:

So, I've survived (barely) the first day of a national conference, where they pulled me in from vacation 'cause I'm the point man on the project. *Sigh* it's nice to be so loved. First time meeting the majority of the experts, and, boy, were they in for a surprise! One of the experts, with whom I've been working with for a year, when I pointed out a technicality with one of the rules decided to give me some back-talk, so, I laid the smack down,

"Hey, ya wanna piece o' me? I'LL TAKE Y'ALL ON!"

This bellow kind of attracted attention to myself, as the other experts burst out laughing at the kid in the back corner posturing so extravagantly. One of the experts asked my boss's boss (he's new to the project), "Hey, can you keep control over your people?" He answered, martyred look on his face, wringing his hands: "I'm trying; I'm trying!"

So, at lunch, at the BBQ place (the boss like all kinds of foods, as long as they're pork and have been barbequed), I went around, pressing the flesh and meeting the experts: "Oh, you're the one who's going to beat us all up?" was the only question I got. On the ride back to the conference, the boss's boss said: "You know, Doug, I have to go on record: you're REALLY STRANGE!"

Huh? This from a guy who noted how, um, unique each member of the team was (and said how shocked he was that he found a project where he fit in). So, I guess that makes me "fringe" unique? Anyway, I tried for peace: "Well, I hope that otherwise my skills are helpful to the team and the project."

Deafening silence followed ...

...

... the boss's boss said: "*Ahem* Well, that was a deafening silence ..."

So, I'm hoping tomorrow they'll forget all about the day before (*cough*) ... anyway, the conference will start at 8 am, and it's 1 1/2 hour commute (ugh-ugh-ugh), so I think nature, in the form of lack of sleep, will take its course in transforming a REALLY STRANGE Doug to a quiet and subdued Doug (but, I hope, not a snoring Doug).

So, that's how my day went. One could, I suppose, say it was One Day in the Life of Doug Auclair, but I think somebody blatantly ripped off that title from me. Oh, the nerve of some people, jeez!

Elena Marie says: "Hello?"

Originally posted November 14, 2004:

Today started out cold and blustery: fall is upon us, no joke. So, it made exercising this morning a more interesting affair, logistically. It doesn't help that it appears our heater is on the fritz (it provides a modicum of heat, but doesn't stay on the requested temperature, so blankets and mufflers are welcome additions to the modern lifestyle). So, I exercised. The bokken, being newly oiled as of yesterday, felt very good during practice.

Today was the slower side of Dance-dance Revolution exercises — the music selection is on a wheel, and going clockwise, one encounters the faster songs (after nine minutes I hit the target calorie burn and was quite ready to stop: only 31 more minutes to go), but today was the counterclockwise direction: I don't hit the target even after 40 minutes. So, this time, I added 5 more minutes, and decided to double the requirement — for each arrow, I would hit the pad twice.

Ouch. I think I understand better, viscerally, why basketball players so often require knee surgery. Even now, 12 hours later, I still feel the throbbing in my legs. Today, I worked out more, and harder, than I ever have since I've acquired this 'game'. One benefit: the 'tough' songs I couldn't fathom before (I would just stop and stare as 20 arrows passed in a matter of 3 seconds), I now did just fine.

Mother called after exercise, and she complained that my emails didn't talk about her grandchildren enough. So, for her, and for your enjoyment, I provide the following story.

I called Diane last night, as I do weekly, and we happily chatted the night away (Isabel squawked on occasion from Mama's lap, and Diane said she smiled when I addressed her -- she's now walking about, as easy as you please and has curly hair [see, Mother, it's about your grandchildren, okay?]). After I rung off, I called right back to say hello again one more time, but this time, I received a surprise.

*ring-ring*
Elena Marie: Hello?
Me: Ummmmmm, Hello, Elena Marie!
(here I panicked, because usually the conversation continues thus: I ask her health, she says she's fine and then says, "Bye!" and hangs up) (so, thinking quickly, I continued:)
Me: I need to speak to Mama, would you give her the phone?
Elena Marie: Okay ... and that's exactly what she did.
*Whew*

Diane told me that Elena Marie bolts to the phone whenever it rings, even though she's been asked not to pick up. I figure that since she just spoke with her papa a few moments before, she was expecting that it was I again. This time she was correct.

So, that's my story: my little girl's answering the phone now. What next? A driver's license? (choke!)

chop wood, carry water

Originally posted November 18, 2004:

Sunday, Philippino day:

Little did I realize that today was Washington DC Philippino day. This morning at Church, due to shortages of flu vaccine, instead of shaking hands at the sign of peace, we all turned to our neighbors and gave each a slight bow. This is exactly how Philippinos exchange the sign of peace in Mass in the Philippines. I couldn't help but let slip a small, private smile during this evolution. I hope this goes on for quite some time: Diane and Dennis will be so pleased!

AND THEN! I went to Starbucks to by some Chai in bulk. As I approached the counter, I felt momentarily disoriented, something was strangely familiar -- the girl at the register, who I originally thought to be Black, was not: she was Brown! And, the other person working there was also a Pinay (occasionally, in this area particularly, Starbucks brings in foreign nationals -- I suppose for exposure on how Starbucks works in the USA? One time the store manager (who is also one of the national directors) was working with people from Taiwan). Again, the repressed smile, but I didn't engage them in conversation. Again, I was transported to my sweetie's side. Two times in one day!

Monday.

Heater broke, and then, car broke (timing belt). Slept that night with a space heater graciously leant to me by Mike and in a knit cap and muffler. Mr. Darcy really snuggled up to me, as well.

While I was on the side of the highway in my broken-down car, Bill, a colleague from work, called to report an at-work emergency that needed my immediate attention; I guided him through some procedures over the phone as the tow truck continued to fail to show up. Received two more calls on my cell from work, each more and more alarming.

Uh, don't worry, y'all: the country's still protected.

So, I pushed the car to an apartment complex's parking lot, conveniently located nearby, and then I walked home. In my dress shoes. Ow.

But, after all that, it seems like God cut me a break. When I arrived home, I received a check from the mail. Goody! I can eat again! Something else good happened that day, but, it being two days and several crises ago, I've quite forgotten what it was.

I went by Mike's house, and he looked me straight in the eye: "Doug, you're just sad!" Thanks, pal! But he also gave me freshly cooked roast beef and mashed potatoes with gravy. I don't know how he does it, but he makes the world's best mashed potatoes. He also loaded me down with two large logs for my fireplace.

Mike: "You need to split those; do you have a maul?"
Me: "Don't worry about it. My middle name's not 'Paul Bunyon' for nothing."
Mike: [speachless, rueful look]

That night, until late, late in the night, I turned my mind and body to the simple joy of splitting firewood with my wedges, gods-own-hammer, and my ax. It felt very good.

Tuesday.

Watching the heater repair guys ("Um, Mr. Douglas [sic], sir, you need to replace your intake filter every month, not every year."). Receiving more emgerging crisis phonecalls from work. That morning, I was in work, and I said to Bill: "I wish I could say troubles come in pairs, but I would actually be blessed in they ONLY came in pairs."

I was calm, however, govies have a tendency to panic easily and sometimes about the wrong thing. I was sure it wasn't my code that was the problem.

Wednesday.

I was wrong, of course: it was my code that was the problem. It was built with a perfect-world model, and the real-world data, ya know, can be noisy sometimes. But, then, another miracle occurred, Bill headed up the repair effort and did 90% of the work, freeing me to handle another impending crisis. It's amazing to find people who take the ball and run with it (especially since I rarely see it in the workplace); this contract has several people to do that very thing with neither fuss nor fanfare. Wow!

So, now, I'm just finishing up my workday, writing this email, and heading on home.

I missed about 57,239 other things that happened this week: each thing would've had its own paragraph of at least 17 lines each, and for this, I'm sorry, 'cause I'm wondering what happen this week, myself.

Ah, well, car works, heater works, fireplace works, self works. Good to go!

"Enough" Halo 2 time? and the girls

Originally posted November 27, 2004:

My cara spoza asked me:

Oh what a relief it is... Now that I'm done with the morning business, time to catch up with husby. It sounded like you were enjoying yourself with the family. Did you get to play enough halo 2 over the week?

Ummmm, define "enough", please! Howland and I have been coplaying H2 -- in H2, one can "jack" a vehicle from the enemy driver, so we've been doing that more than really playing the game at all, 'cause jacking's so much fun. Beki would watch and giggle when one of succeeded in doing this.

Beki's still playing H1 and refuses to join in with Howland and me. Howland also prefers to watch me play when I'm moving the story along ... after I've cleared a level, he'll play it along with me or solo.

Lowrey watched us all play in Virginia, and she took an anthropological point of view, wondering why shoot-em-ups are so popular, and wondering if there was a way to create a game that would be equally captivating without the violence in it.

Of course, I have news about the girls for your enjoyment. Elena has a new look. Just wait and see :-)

She is imitating and repeating even more Tagalog. When I spilled a chocolate drink on the bed, she exclaimed. "ayyy, natapon!" She would sigh like a true pinay, "hayy, naku." And she would argue as loudly, "hindeee!" She's also adding all the appropriate connectors such as "ang" and "si." Pretty amazing kid!

Okay. Stop the presses. "New look"? What's going on? PANIC TIME OVER HERE!

Isabel has begun to express herself loudly and forcefully. Balanced wonderfully by acts of lambing, like just going up to you for a quick kiss or hug. I can already see your pusong mamon melting like ice cream.

Oh! (clasping my hand to my head) My heart is breaking! I'm wondering if she'll do that to me. Probably so, it looks like she has a deviously charming twinkly in her eye.

We've been watching videos of the party and the anniversary and the beach trip. It was great to see you in them and I am glad that it won't be long before we see you again. The girls, esp. Elena, exclaim "Papa" when they see you in pictures or on TV. It would be a great reunion!

Oh, no! My heart, it's breaking again! *sniff*

Reading Mama

Photo taken sometime in late June, 2005