Whaleherdienda Chronicle

WH Chronicle No. 3.6.15

March 6, 2015

Dear Gentle Chronicle Readers,

We have a special update today on Whaleherd Unit #1 or Whaleherdita.

Over Groundhog Day (curse that groundhog and his long winter) we offered Sam's film debut, so now, in another shamelessly proud parent moment, we have a video of Daryl in the school talent show. She announced last week she wanted to participate and we have never heard her sing in public.

The cinematography is atrocious. In fact, start the video and look away. We do not want to be responsible for your motion sickness. But, yours truly, was a nervous wreck, wiping tears from my eyes, and doing my best not to drop the camera.

Hope you enjoy.
Lots of Love,
Daris and crew

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5K7IfwhoB5I

WH GHD 2015 Appendix

Feb 2, 2015

WH Chronicle GHD Appendix

So if your video didn't pop up in the blog--here's the link below.
I certainly don't want to give it too much build up, but it's worth seeing if you are a Sam fan.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J3-zJzzDzlc

WH Chronicle GHD 2015

Feb 2, 2015

Happy Groundhog Day, everyone!

Whew! We made it through Nutcrackers, Messiahs, Mall concerts, Christmas tree lighting concerts, Vienna Waltzes, Christmas eve ceremonies, Midnight Masses, and New Year’s Pops.

“Hallelujah, Pass the Tylenol.”

December was the Germpocalypse, Germzilla, Germageddon, for the Hales. Christmas day saw Tom with pneumonia and Sam vigorously driving the porcelain bus without even a libatious holiday party to blame. Sam remarked stoically, “Why can’t I have a stomach bug on a school day? This is a real waste.” while moaning he was too sick to open presents. Tom and Sam generously shared their afflictions with the whole family.

But, we can happily report that our 2014 saw no exotic life-threatening viruses, no heart surgeries, no broken bones, and no new additions to our household through a that magic vaginal portal. So, actuary tables are steady and the Insurance company can retain their healthy profits. As my sweet Dad says, "You definitely don't want your money's worth out of health insurance." If only I'd known.

We do have a new family member, Sophia Kuyenga, from Tanzania, with us this year. She will be acquiring her Masters in Music from Texas State University over the next four semesters. She is the kindest person to ever to have tread our domain. She is an incredible cook and spends time in the kitchen relaxing from her studies. When the family is hungry, we compassionately recommend that she take a study break--for her sake, of course.

We all miss Kaghondi. The departure of every exchange student is painful. It’s difficult not to bump around the house with someone for 10 months and then not miss their loving contributions. Kaghondi is teaching at Makumira University and is happily reunited with his family. I know he struggles with the pace of progress in his country, but he is well suited for negotiating it gracefully.

Hilde, our Norwegian Princess, from Norwegia, came to visit us at the end of the summer. She was preparing to embark on a backpacking adventure across South America. It was wonderful to see how she has blossomed into a more mature, more thoughtful, and more beautiful version of her original self. In the fall, she will be studying human rights at the School of Law at University of Essex.

And Jamilly, our Kazakhstani princess, will graduate from University in 2016 and spend a year volunteering in Peru. This summer her studies will be in Madison, Wisconsin. Hopefully, there will be a Jamilly sighting in our future.

Homeland Princess (albeit Queen) Daryl, still makes plenty of noises about her Broadway dream. We are not in the position to tell her not to follow her passions, though perhaps one could easily argue the feasibility of those passions. She is thriving at her new school with all sorts of awards and honor rolls. I teeter on either praising her or reminding her the true goal of education is not really grades; despite suffering some character assassination for this. But then, my New Year’s resolution is to be a “cheerful dissident” and avoid all forms and versions of “cynic”. Can’t say I’ve succeeded entirely, but I haven’t lost my resolve.

Sam will be graduating elementary school and joining Daryl at St. Francis next year. This will be a big promotion for the resident taxi/school bus driver (Tom) as well. Sam loves cars, tanks, guns, birds, and has announced that he wants to be a naturalist--then promptly asked, “What do naturalists do?” Well, we skipped the part about being still and observing for long periods of time, but emphasized that being in nature is an important component.

Sam and his Hog

Sparked by Sam’s love for birds, we visited the Texas Hawking Event. It was a collection of outdoorsman with fearsome birds of prey perched on their arms. Tales of capturing, training and hunting with their hawks and falcons were fascinating and educational. Sam, of course, wanted one. We offered Susan, the overly tame, very fat chicken at his school, as a substitute. She would patiently sit on his arm should he actually be able to lift his arm with her on it. She’ll look great in a falcon hood.

Tom spends a lot time driving the kids. I supposed it is the 21st century’s version of quality time here in Austin. There are many conversations that can be had with a captive audience in the absence of earbuds. We had the realization that our next family car will not need to be a troop carrier, as it will be for only two people--sigh. Hey, why is Tom buying earbuds?

If I weren’t so proud to admit the deadly sin of being proud, then I’ll tell you how proud I was of all our clan. Amazing peeps.

Me, well, much to the frustration of my friends and family, I'm becoming less accommodating in social settings. Perhaps as my Gatsby-esque delusions of the world wear thin, I don't feel compelled to nod agreeingly with prejudice statements. I vigorously examine fallacies of reasoning and question our constructed reality. The 'cheerful dissident' resolution was in an effort to honor my own nature while avoiding leprosy of cynicism. I see the kids growing into adults and feel an urgency. I passionately explain to them about the danger of ambitions and succumbing to perverse incentives; about Integrity and the sanctity of human life; and that these matter despite the consequences you might endure for protecting them; that there are good reasons and bad reasons to go to jail; AND (with my finger pointed high in the air) just because someone doesn’t recognize your value doesn’t mean that you aren’t priceless.

To which Sam replies, “How about when Daddy was arrested? Was that a good reason or a bad reason?”

“Ummm...yeah...well...that's for Daddy to explain.”

Summer plans, you ask? Well, we anticipate taking our lovely Bluebird bus named “Birdienda” to destinations in Oklahoma, Montana, California, New Mexico. The current repair status of said bus is still yet undetermined as our family’s ‘division of labor’ has put management of all temperamental mechanics and carpenters under Tom’s iron-fisted dictatorship. (I might have just broken my New Year’s resolution, again.)

For your viewing pleasure, I'm including a short (4 min) film that was written, directed, and filmed by high school students at Quartz Mountain last summer. King of the Mountain, featuring Sam.

"An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it." ~Mahatma Gandhi

“Speak what you think today in hard words and tomorrow speak what tomorrow thinks in hard words again, though it contradict every thing you said today.” ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

“I think the reward for conformity is that everyone likes you except yourself” ~Rita Mae Brown

“To create one’s world in any of the arts takes courage.” ~Georgia O’Keeffe

"Did you ever wonder if the person in the puddle is real, and you're just a reflection of him?"
~Calvin and Hobbes

Yours truly trusting in rodent meteorologists,
Daris

P.S. "I was in college, and it was expunged, alright?" can heard from the other room.

WH Chronicle No. 6.7.14

June 7, 2014

Dear Loved Ones,

Hope this chronicle entry finds everyone enthralled in your summer activities of walking, swimming, yodeling, or attaching homemade telemetry equipment to weather balloons (click here to see our friend’s fun).

With some tears and heartache, we wished Kaghondi farewell as he returned to his motherland. The Sunday before his departure was especially touching as our whole family enjoyed his vocal solo at Central Presbyterian. Between the Swahili, the deep well of African memories, and his imminent departure, the moment broadsided us with emotion. Snot, snorts and gasps were heard from whaleherds (mostly me, though). Several little ladies patted my shoulder. I began to worry that I might affect Kaghondi’s performance if he were to see me in the midst of this messy emotion. I slumped over and waited for it to subside. Though in Swahili, the song was probably about something very emotionally and spiritually powerful, like sheep grazing. We were all affected, in the best possible way, of course. It wouldn't be so sad, had it not been so wonderful.

That afternoon, in the park, Tom burned some burgers and dogs for about 50 people. All the patrons were big Kaghondi supporters; though, most of them would say they were there to help the Hale family get through their post-Kaghondi blues.

Several times Kaghondi tried to express his thanks to us and would become completely flummoxed with his words and emotions. We've explained that the blessing worked equally in both directions. Regardless, I would give a dismissive wave and then tell him to ‘just go home and make babies”, as he and Deborah are eager to share their love with more children.

Unbeknownst to us, Kaghondi is a bit of a rock star with his multiple achievements. New acquaintances would say to us, “Did you know he wrote a book?” “Did you know that he wrote a new choir piece?” "The Bishop was blown away by his sermon on World Relief Sunday." To which we could respond, “Well, did you know that he wrote multiple chamber music pieces and just recorded a vocal track for a new album?” When I asked Kaghondi about his book he was so unassuming that he wouldn’t acknowledge its existence until he tired of me making up titles. It is a collection of stories of his life as a pastor in rural Tanzania. “After She was Born a Woman” It will be available for Pre-order on Amazon soon…

Even though Kaghondi’s time here has come to a beautiful close, his time in Tanzania with a new perspective and title is just beginning. The last two years he absorbed science museums, movies, NASA, books, documentaries, art museums, musicals, ballets, operas, concerts, Dogtober, Gay Pride, and amusement parks. Now he has to re-assimilate in his home culture with a wildly different understanding of the world than most of his fellow Tanzanians. This inherently presents challenges. Though I want to wish him the happiest life, I know that his newly acquired knowledge, worldview, and new title will bear a burden. Many are intimidated by education and critical thinking and will revel in creating barriers, perhaps even more so in Africa than the USA. So for Kaghondi, I wish him happiness, but more importantly, I wish him the courage, tenaciousness, and compassion to pursue his truth despite all obstacles. Godspeed, Kaghondi.

“The scholar who cherishes the love of comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar.”
~Confucius, The Analects of Confucius "It isn't that they can't see the solution. It is that they can't see the problem."
~G.K. Chesterton

"Having a child is surely the most beautifully irrational act that two people in love can commit."~Bill Cosby
"The badness of a movie is proportional to the number of helicopters in it.”
~Dave Barry

Bon Voyaged Out,
Daris

Kaghondi's last weekend at an amusement park!

Post-scary-big-coaster-ride: he's still smiling.

Shopping for the Party

Kaghondi's Welcome Home Party!

Happy Family Sharing Cake

Now THAT is a happy lady!

Despite 30+ hours of travel--he is happy to become African, again.

And the happy family is together at last.
The End (not really).

Whaleherd's GHD 2014

Feb 2, 2014
Six more weeks of winter! Despite overcast skies, Phil saw his shadow! At least if he is wrong, an early spring is less likely to attract lawsuits than a sky-dumping blizzard. And with a 39% accuracy rate since 1886, one might take these things into consideration.

Feb 1, 2014

Dear Fellow Groundhog Day Lovers,

Once again, we wrap up our Groundhog’s Day Eve events with the Groundhog Day caroling and some hot Groundhog tea while sitting near the swamp cooler. Making those dirt angels was exhausting. Now we anxiously await P. Phil’s prognostication and hopefully, this year, he won’t be indicted for a bum forecast--furrvilious lawsuits (click here to read news article).

Recapping the Whaleherd's 2013, that wild ride started in February when we found out that Tom had to have his heart re-plumbed. Evidently, it was leaking as bad as the house we were remodeling.

The doctor mentioned that the surgery was not a big deal.

“We do it all the time. We just crack the chest open and repair the little valve.”

Tom responded, “B-b-but, I play French horn for a living.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem for us. My niece plays the recorder,” he poorly introspected.

That sent me into an internet-information-gathering-tail-spin resulting in the conclusion that Tom should apply to be a candidate for a robotic, minimally invasive procedure at Cleveland Clinic. Though it can all be summed up in a few sentences, it was a real saga of hospitals, doctors, insurance companies, preparation, RV travel, and anxiety with a side of family vacation thrown in for good measure. Outside of being dead for 8 hours, Tom fared the experiment quite well. Sam announced that the summer’s travels were ‘better than Africa’. So, of course, we bought a bus.

Currently, this bus operates splendidly as an extra bedroom—as long as you don’t mind that extra bedroom being in a diesel truck mechanic's shop. We are working towards bedroom mobility, but feel confident that its glorious deficits will always provide ample chronicle fodder. AAA appears to be an excellent investment for the upcoming maiden voyage.

MADLIBS Section (fill in the blanks with an appropriate word):

With the smashing of a bottle of (alcoholic beverage) on the (part of a vehicle),

we’ll christen our (RV type vehicle) named, (proper name),

as it rolls out of the shop (direction)-ward, into (location).

Tom (verb) his (noun).

No matter your insertions, it is plausible.

Suggested names to be painted on the front of the bus:

Rhoda Geen (as in “On the”)

Hale on Wheels

Hale’s Handbasket

Birdienda (it is a Blue Bird bus)

Birdienda Basket

Bird Brains

Other news of non-interest:

We were invited to a wedding recently and I had the sudden realization that we looked like a refugee family fresh from escaping the throes of mayhem. I decided to exercise some quality control so that we wouldn’t be confused with the Duck Dynasty crowd. Everyone’s hair, pits, beards, were cleaned and trimmed. We managed to wash the mud off of Sam. Somehow, they recognized and treated us as human beings and not stray groundhogs.

But oddly enough, the principles of quality control that were applied that singular day did not go unnoticed by other members of our family. Shortly after the wedding, Kaghondi indicated that the jeans I was wearing needed to be retired. They were no longer even candidates for a Goodwill donation. I’m not sure which is worse, someone from a developing country exercising quality control on my wardrobe, or the fact that I’m not convinced by his reasoning.

We did manage to find some warm clothes with less holes for our New York adventure. In an effort to practice wisdom in gifting, we try to purchase experiences rather than stuff. So Kaghondi’s birthday, graduation, and Christmas presents were a round-trip ticket to New York. Daryl, too; though, if she doesn’t graduate from anything we’ll request a refund. We stayed with a dear friend in Brooklyn and ran completely out of time and legs before we could see it all.

This year’s Groundhog Day video is another collection of poor cinematography, sad editing, and weak attempts at cinematic humor. As my actors/actresses/crew continue to age and become potentially more help, their interest in the creation of the project wanes. Other seemingly urgent technology (such as Mine Craft and TV) offers convenient distractions and trumps my efforts in fabricating the family docu-drama. But I persevere so that the GHD video becomes my kids’ newest distraction and then I can express disdain with perfect circular logic.

"The groundhog is like most other prophets; it delivers its prediction and then disappears." -- Bill Vaughn

"This is one time where television really fails to capture the true excitement of a large squirrel predicting the weather." -- Phil Connors from the movie, Groundhog Day

Decorating the Groundhog Cookies with Quality Control and Circular Logic,

Daris

GHD Video 2014 (click here)

WH Chronicle No. 8.7.13

August 7, 2013

We are finally back in Texas!

We waiting anxiously in the boonies outside of Lampasas for our house to become available. We will check-in into our wheel-less home at high noon next Sunday.

Renters out, and Whaleherds in!

Along the long journey home, we have been systematically lowering the property values of relatives with our “Trailer Parks and Banjos” installation on their lawns. They have behaved kindly only because Tom ‘has a condition’.

Tom is doing very well. Too well. Just recently I found him and both kids on the second branch of a huge pecan tree. He acts casual.

“Whaaaat? They didn’t say anything about climbing trees,” Tom responded innocently to my dagger-ous stare.

“Nor did they mention being a contestant on Wipe Out, or participating in the Running of the Bulls,“ I thought very loudly.

Next time, I’m going to request that they stick a lot more holes in Tom so he’ll pace his recovery more appropriately.

But now, I’m off the hook—absolved of responsibility. If he injures himself doing a chore for me, I can blame it on that silly tree incident.

At the post surgery check up in Cleveland the doctor stated that Tom no longer needed constant supervision (for heart malfunctions; this is obviously not the case for rule infractions); so we had one last thing to do before leaving Ohio: Cedar Point Amusement Park—home of the highest, fastest, tallest, meanest roller coasters on the planet. Luckily, Cleveland Clinic offers half price tickets to patient’s families to insure future business. So, we left Tom peacefully napping in the trailer (our assumption) and spent a day at the park. After 12 hours of neck whipping excitement, a few G-force blackouts, and more plastic nacho cheese than anyone should consume, we were ready to leave Ohio. Only 1800 miles and 3 weeks before home.

Here’s a link to a short video featuring one of the roller coasters: Top Thrill Dragster (click here).

10 RV Parks Total

We began to look like a professional pit crew each time we pulled in to a new park. We could back in the trailer, plug in cords and hoses, pick up all the fruit that had rolled around on the floor, and have it completely livable by the time we were ready to leave the next day.

“Sam, bring me that tool thing with the blue handle.”

“I think they call that a ‘wrench’, Mom,” he says.

“Bring it anyway.”

The RV Park occupants were ridiculously kind and helpful. Of course, I had usually told them my life story within the first 90 seconds of meeting them. There was always someone to help with any heavy lifting. And a 12 Pack of Coors Light would insure a whole crew of assistants with grease already under their nails.

We met all sorts of friendly people along our journey. Many of them were wishing us well on the highways. Honking, waving and saluting with their middle finger, as we drove our contraption slowly through the downtowns during rush hour. State lines were also a welcomed event that meant restitution from any crime we may have unknowingly committed, like leaving dump station accouterment untidy (or dragging it behind us).

Informal Mexican cuisine survey across the US: TexMex, OkMex, MizMex, OhMex IllMex, WisMex, IoMex, NebMex, InMex, KanMex, New MexMex,.

Well, we continued our survey, but at some point lost our resolve and resorted to Chipotle and Taco Johns. Anthony Bourdain’s reign is safe for another year.

The kids gave themselves ‘game names’. Sam, a.k.a. “Skull Crusher” has become an avid reader of chapter books via the amazing benefits of hospital confinement. Daryl, a.k.a. “Screecher” reads while painting her nails. Both Screecher and Skull Crusher learned how to ride a skateboard in the hospital parking lot. They have affectionately named Tom, “Third Nipple" for all games. So far, I’ve avoided any meaningful terms of endearment.

In all honesty, there were times this trip felt like a twisted hybrid of National Lampoon and Grapes of Wrath. I wish I could say I basked daily in elation and gratitude of a successful surgery, but those moments were usually usurped by the realization that I had to keep Tom and the kids safe, alive, comfortable, and delivered safely back home. Lizzie became a very welcomed co-pilot. Now that we are less than 100 miles from home, and Tom is healthy and insolent-- it is a wonderful feeling.

Thanks for going with us—all of you! Your bodies, minds, spirits, texts, emails, phone calls—all of it was immensely helpful. Thank you. We are very blessed.

Elated, grateful, and relieved at last,

Daris

“I ask not for a lighter burden, but for broader shoulders.” Jewish Proverb

"There ain't no sin and there ain't no virtue. There is just stuff people do." Grapes of Wrath, John Steinbeck

“But the place which you have selected for your camp, though never so rough and grim, begins at once to have its attractions, and becomes a very centre of civilization to you: "Home is home, be it never so homely."” ~Henry David Thoreau

“We travel because, no matter how comfortable we are at home, there's a part of us that wants - that needs - to see new vistas, take new tours, obtain new traveler's checks, buy new souvenirs, order new entrees, introduce new bacteria into our intestinal tracts, learn new words for "transfusion," and have all the other travel adventures that make us want to french-kiss our doormats when we finally get home.” The Only Travel Guide You’ll Ever Need, Dave Barry

At first, I thought this was Tom, but then I remembered that he never wore shorts under his gown.

Why is this so amusing to us?

Daryl took this photo while Liz and I were changing a tire.

Funny Roller Coaster Photos (click here)

WH Chronicle No. 7.20.13

July 20, 2013

We are finally out of the hospital and have spent a few days recuperating on the banks of Lake Erie.

So now, Tom’s plumbing is tight and the pump has finally decided to maintain a regular rhythm—though, it took a few nail-biting (for me, not the doctors) days for it to settle down.

Now the kids and I just have to monitor Tom’s activities and watch for any irregularities. He is stronger each day. His right nipple now points at 2 o'clock, but other than this, no huge scars to sport. Sam does blood pressure every few hours and monitors bathroom/shower times. Daryl is his walking buddy. He is only left unattended for a couple of hours during his naps while we feed ducks and hold fishing rods.

Tom is not always a compliant patient. If we are not watching carefully, he wanders off like a toddler with a screw driver or hammer in hand looking for something to repair. When I mention his reluctance to cooperate I hear him mutter something about turnabout being fair play.

We have lots of post-op appointments and follow ups here in Cleveland. Our journey southward depends on doctor clearance. Lizzie flies in tonight and will assume the duties of co-pilot. Even if she doesn’t choose to drive or fold a map; she is able to walk 25 yards without tiring while being old enough to buy beer. This makes her over-qualified for the job.

"My doctor is nice; every time I see him, I'm ashamed of what I think of doctors in general."

~Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook, 1966

Surgeons must be very careful
When they take the knife!
Underneath their fine incisions
Stirs the Culprit - Life!
~Emily Dickinson

Coordinating the convalescing,

Daris