Go fly a kite

While we were wandering around the flea market, we noticed a very colorful booth, looked at each other, and said, "Lets' go over that way," both of us knowing we'd be walking away with a new kite. (Hey, we've been married 10 years now. Some things are obvious!)

"This is a great kite! Here, I'll show you!" This guy insisted on launching our kite for us to show us how easy it was. He got it up, unassisted, on the first toss, from the middle of a crowded aisle in the flea market.

We weren't disappointed. This guy was enthusiastic, and obviously in the business because he loved kites — a fun change from the standard "service with a shrug" that you get in most of Indiana. He found us a good kite, gave us a non-crash course in flying it ("There's no reason to be running with a kite, folks!") and made sure we knew how to put it together.

Thursday turned out to be very windy, plenty for a kite. So we went out on the lawn and flew it for a bit before heading home.

Up and Away!

Kite not flying.

Kite flying!

10 Years

On Wednesday and Thursday, Deborah and I went and celebrated our tenth wedding anniversary. We went up to the Farmstead Inn in Shipshewana. (Just the two of us. Paul very kindly stayed home with the kids.)

Nearly everything had an Amish- or farm-based theme, including our hotel. The "barn" here houses the pool and exercise room.

Wanna race?

Shipshewana is primarily known for being Amish. According to the brochures, the population is 516, and they handle over a million visitors a year. They seem to put up with tourists (like us) rather well.

So what did we do? Well, we...

Bought Deborah an anniversary dress...

It seems odd to have found an Indian dress in the middle of an Amish flea market, but no one else seemed to notice any irony about that.

Looked at Amish arts and crafts...

For the prices, you wouldn't dare sleep on it...

Sat around in hot tubs until we looked like prunes...

This is what my hands will look like for our 50th wedding anniversary.

...and sampled the local cuisine.

Yum. Amish peanut butter (in this town, it was just called "peanut butter") is a mix of peanut butter, marshmallow fluff, Karo syrup, maple syrup, and a few other things. That's what our waitress told us, anyway.

My dentist asked me if this meant that "number 3" was on it's way. I told her Deborah wanted twins. :-) (No, that's not an announcement.) We did a few other things as well, but those are musings and photos for a different post on a different day. For anow, it's just weird to think that I've now been married for nearly a third of my life. It's easier to imagine it in two- or three-year chunks, and then put them all together.

Ten years. Ten!

Point of Interest

On the way up to Shipshewana — more on that later — you pass through North Webster, a small, lake-based town. For years, I rode past this sign, and couldn't figure out where the point of interest was.

The only thing I found within half a mile that looked at all out of the usual was this well of sorts. I guess other people wondered about it, too, because they finally put up a sign:

So I feel a little vindicated for figuring out that it was this little thing beside the road, but I've stopped and looked at this thing many times now, and one nagging question remains in my mind.

...What's so interesting about it?

Pondering the Quilt

Deborah has been working on this quilt for ages. Well, four or five years, anyway — with some significant breaks to rear a few children. (Apparently, sitting to nurse a baby, and then sitting some more to do some quilting didn't have that much appeal.) We've been listening to audiobooks in the evenings together while she sews.

She's almost done.

Happy traaaaails to you...

Now that the new trails have opened up in the woods, and most of the bike paths are in place, we've been taking the kids out riding with us. Paul occasionally joins us, too. Between the trailer and the bikes in the shed, we've got seating for eight!

Grin!

Since Aiden is now big enough to go riding with us, he now also gets a helmet. He picked the design out himself — bright yellow with little white chicks. It wouldn't have been my first choice, but then, my helmet is a graphite gray. How dull!

Pulling that trailer keeps me humble. As we were going up an incline, I stabbed the shifter down to get a lower gear, and discovered that I didn't have any lower gears left!

The new trails are beautiful. The new pavement is black and smooth, almost dreamy. The old mountain bike trails — the ones I used to ride back when it was still "trespassing" to do so — are still there, but Deborah prefers to go on the paved trails with me. Somehow, dodging trees and bouncing over roots at high speed doesn't jive with her idea of a relaxing afternoon. Go figure!

Job Posting

I came across a rare and fascinating thing yesterday: A job posting for the exact sort of thing I like to do, without all the things that I'm not very good at. Most job listings I see for designers and webmasters these days have a list the length of your arm of platforms, programming languages, and frameworks that I don't know (or don't have any real reason or opportunity to learn.) By contrast, Blogger (well, Google) is hiring a "visual designer":

Google is looking for a visual designer with solid skills in graphic design, and an excellent eye for typography, clean layout, purposeful color, and refined style. You must have a deep appreciation for simple, sleek, usable interfaces. You will be responsible for all stages of design on one or more of Google's consumer-facing products. Therefore, you must think strategically while executing with great attention to detail. Your goal is to create a look consistent with the all of Google while delighting our users. You must have the ability to successfully collaborate with other designers, product managers, and engineers to develop innovative, user-friendly, best-of-breed products that adhere to and help build the Google brand. The ideal candidate for this position possesses a solid understanding of user-centered design principles, absolute comfort working with HTML and CSS, excellent visual design skills, great technical know-how, and proven expertise in designing for the Web.

Preferred qualifications:

• Solid understanding of working with and designing for web applications.
• Comfortable working with basic Javascript.
  
• Experience working on large-scale consumer websites.

Requirements:

• BA/BS or above in Graphic Design, Information Design, or other visual arts; strong technical background a plus.
  
• Minimum of 3+ years experience designing outstanding web-based products for a consumer-oriented website as a key member of a design team.
  
• Proven ability to act as a leader in communicating conceptual ideas and design rationale, all within a user-centered design process.
  
• Must be able to work and communicate effectively in a cross-functional product development team, and present ideas and designs effectively.
  
• Must be self-motivated to prioritize and manage work load, and meet critical project milestones and deadlines.
  
• Must be an effective problem solver. Comes up with creative solutions and considers many alternative solutions to each problem.
  
• Must be able to cope well in an ambiguous environment.
  
• Must have excellent interpersonal skills and the ability to build good working relationships.
  
• Fluent in HTML and CSS, and full knowledge of their capabilities and limitations.
  
• Use Adobe Photoshop and/or Fireworks like a pro.

I don't have to explain that I was (am?) severely tempted. I like Google. I'd love to work on Blogger. (There are a lot of things I'd like to fix, starting with the infinite-loop "help" system...) I even like California. (I will only listen to criticisms of California from other people who have actually set foot in the state. The rest of you, hush up.) The only thing I wonder about on that list is the "ambiguous working environment." What does that mean? No one knows where they're going? They move from warehouse to warehouse, and hold meetings on random street corners?

But I'm not applying. Or, I haven't yet. Or... Part of me aches to grab for what sounds perfect on the surface, and much of me realizes how content I really am with the place I am now. I'm not rich, certainly, but I am blessed. Am I holding myself back, setting my sights too low, convincing myself I can't have something better? Or am I right to think that what I have now would be tough to beat?

[ *** Sigh *** ]

How does your garden grow?

It's almost safe to say that we've had the last frost here. Not a guarantee, of course, but we were confident enough to plant the front garden again. I mostly concerned myself with mowing and fertilizing the lawn, while Paul and Deborah planted the impatiens we had picked out that morning.

What goes next here? A pink-and-white striped one?

Aiden helped.

Fiona worried me by playing with the more pointy tools.

We had a few left over, so we took them over to Paul's apartment and planted them by his front steps. This apparently inspired Paul and his roommate to spend the rest of the day cleaning and making improvements to the apartment.

I can't put my finger exactly on what I like about this picture. Maybe it's the composition, or the flowers on her dress and by the steps, or the contrast of the old and the weathered against the fresh and the new. Whatever. I like it.

Can I ride, Daddy?

While Deborah, Paul, and Aiden were off planting flowers at Paul's house, Fiona and I sat outside enjoying the warm sunshine together. Fiona pointed and said, "Let's go for a ride on your motorcycle, Daddy!" I've been longing for the day when I can once again ride with someone, so I didn't immediately say no — instead, I plopped Fiona onto the seat to see if she was big enough yet. (Indiana law doesn't specify an age; the requirement is that the passenger should be able to touch the footpegs.) Not quite yet, but sometime, sometime soon. Maybe another year or two...

Not quite big enough yet.
She can touch the pegs if she sits in the driver's seat — but then, where would I sit?

I could drive, yes? Please, Daddy?

Well, no, you can't ride if you're going to do stunts...

Sit her on a motorcycle and she looks at herself in the mirrors. She is such a girl. A boy would probably have knocked the bike over pretending to steer.