From the Tourism Conference.

I'm in Tulsa for the annual Governor's Conference on Tourism. This is the fabulous and exotic view from my window at the Renaissance Conference Center. I call it "Target parking lot with Oklahoma skyline."




I'm kind of missing my kid. He spent Thursday through Sunday with his dad, then G dropped him off with my folks where he will remain until Tuesday afternoon. So it's been almost five days since I saw him. Probably he's not missing me much at all. He got to play with his best friend in OKC, yesterday. And today his Papa's taking him to Scouts, so there's plenty to do.

He tells me he feels equally at home both at our house and at his Dad's place. I'm grateful for that. I noticed, though, on a poster he made as an assignment for school... where it asked him to draw a picture of his family, it was just the two of us. At the beginning of the school year, when he filled out a little booklet about himself, the family he drew was the three of us: G., (recognizable in his green shirt), Grayson in the middle (in glasses), and me (wearing red). Maybe he feels he has two families now.

Yesterday was something of a big day. G dropped off Grayson with my folks, marking the first time he has seen or spoken to either of them in a year. My mom was the only one present. My dad is just not ready to take that step. The new tattoo on his ankle is still healing where he had G's initials tattooed over last week. (My dad had all of our initials tatooed onto his ankle several years ago. Last week he had a sailboat tattooed over it, and fresh initials tattooed onto the opposite ankle: just mine, Grayson's and my mom's. Kind of makes me glad I never etched G's name into my skin.)

Anyway, they both said it was cordial, if awkward. It's another step toward getting On With our lives, I suppose.

Now, in other news: Mambo is now able to eat large crickets. This is great because large crickets are only 1 cent more than small crickets, but he eats 50% fewer, saving me a lot of cash. I have not yet had success in breeding my own crickets, however. The cricket farm seems to be doing okay as far as keeping the adult crickets alive, but I'm not seeing much in the way of eggs. I may have to tweak my techniquesw. Play a little Barry White for them or something... I dunno. I wish they'd get on with it.

On Cricket Husbandry

I am starting a cricket farm. Yes. A cricket farm. Mambo is eating me out of house and home, and I am obliged to find a way to pay for his cricket habit. Either I need to get a second job, or raise the little suckers myself. So, cricket farming it is.

Here's what you need to farm crickets: a big plastic tub, a dish of dirt, some wet cotton balls, some raw veggies, and a heating pad. Oh, and a bunch of crickets.

The crickets and all their stuff go into the big tub (into the lid of which you have drilled holes so they get some air). The heating pad goes on top to keep them nice and mosty toasty. The dirt is for laying eggs in. You put it all together and listen to the chirping and wait. Hopefully in another week or two I'll have little crickets. In the meantime, I have a nice evening chorus in my living room. It's like camping.

If someone had suggested to me a few months ago that I would be raising crickets in my living room, well.... But here I am. Raising crickets. Or trying to. So far, no baby crickets. But the adults are not dying. They're chirping. They seem content. They stink, but they seem happy enough. I feed them bearded dragon pellets and chopped veggies. I wait for them to lay eggs.

I do not care for crickets. I don't mind their chirping. And I don't mind handling the little ones. There are a lot of escapees from Mambo's little cricket holding-pen that I find myself chasing down on a daily basis. But the big adults kind of creep me out. Their little legs are so.... grippy and ... crawly. I just don't care for them. But I'm raising them, so I can feed their children to my dragon. Sort of like Athens and Crete. Perhaps I should build Mambo a labyrinth and demand a regular tribute of 24 youths from my cricket subjects.

Except actually, I'm pretty much going to feed ALL the baby crickets to my dragon, so...

Maybe I should just drop the metaphor. It makes me feel kind of creepy.

How Sweet My Boy Is

I don't generally spend a lot of time gushing about how wonderful my kid is. BUT. I'd like to gush a bit about how wonderful my kid is.

First, he has taken all the major changes and upheavals in his life over this past year with remarkable aplomb. I've had no discipline problems, no choosing sides, no machinations to try to get G and I back together, no resistance to B... none of the classic kid problems associated with divorce... to say nothing of a subsequent move and new school.

Second, he is a sweet, polite, gentle creature, with a heart of purest gold. I am grateful every day for his sunny disposition, his eagerness to please, his flexibility. He's not a whiner, he is grateful for everything he receives, and he always gives people the benefit of the doubt.

By God, my kid refills toilet paper rolls. I'm not kidding. Half the adult male population doesn't refill TP rolls. But my little boy does. He looks in the cabinet, finds a new roll, replaces the old one, and throws the empty tube in the trash. Without ever having been prompted. This I count as a minor miracle in and of itself.

Over the past week, I've had two experiences with him in the morning when i drop him off for school. We always arrive with less than a minute to spare before the bell rings at 7:55 and he's counted as tardy. Typically we pull up and I say "7:54, run for the door!" and he hops out, blows me a kiss, and takes off running. A week ago, though, he blew me a kiss and I blew one to him too, as he was turning to leave. He stopped, turned back toward me, and quickly reached out and "caught" my kiss in his hand. Then, grinning, he ran for class.

Then on Monday when I dropped him off, the car windows were all covered with dew. After he got out and closed the door, he stopped and drew a heart on the passenger side window for me, then he put his face in it, smiled at me, and went to school.

Love that little boy.