Thursday: Star Trek, no spoilers

Thursday evening, omahas, lisakit, and I all went to see the new Star Trek film. The crowd that showed up had all the energy you'd expect of an opening night crowd at a Star Trek film, with many people showing in TOS costumes, and more bizarre t-shirts than you can shake a tribble at. At one point, a fellow I've met only a few times pulled me aside and said, "You're Elf, aren't you?" When I said yes, he said, "Look, my partner and I are thinking about starting a family, and you're one of the few people who's both in an open relationship and raising kids, can I talk to you about how that works?" I said sure, but later: the movie was about to begin. Saw the very lovely tonyawinter, and ran into more people from Amazon and other projects around the Puget Sound. We all exchanged info on what we were doing and could do, just looking for that job opening we each needed.

The movie was... okay. It was big and noisy and I liked the way it played many of the homages, as well as trying to keep the personalities of the main characters intact. On the other hand, it really tosses overboard much of the "dream big" lessons of Star Trek that Newsweek pimped last week: this was a JJ Abrams extravaganza, which like a Michael Bay extravaganza is more roller coaster ride than intellectual exercise. This was not a film with ethical qualms of any kind, and since Star Trek was always about ethical issues this film is just a "WWII Atlantic Theater in space" movie the way Star Wars is a "WWII Pacific Theater in space" movie.

But the sets are pretty, the actors prettier, and it moves along at a "brisk pace," as reviewers often say, with Kirk gleefully banging an Orion Starfleet Cadet, there's a very nifty "parachute from orbit" scene that makes me envious of big screen producers, and both McCoy and Scotty are a total blast.

The biggest problem is simple: the triune of Kirk-McCoy-Spock is missing. Those three really drove a lot of the original show, with McCoy clearly the voice of moral authority and Spock the voice of restraint, and Kirk often breaking the tie or finding the right compromise. It's just not Star Trek without that, and I don't think you can create that in 120 minutes. It takes a TV series. And these guys aren't going back to the small screen after this, which is why I don't think this is really "Star Trek" as we know it.

Charles Stross visit Seattle

Charlie Stross makes stuff up.

After a successful Friday working for a client, Omaha and I headed up to Capitol Hill to the Elysian brewery to meet with fallenpegasus and Charlie Stross, the SF writer who's in town for some big shindig this Monday. Charlie and his wife were both running on none or almost no sleep after 48 solid hours of international air travel, and both of them looked it.

Still, the beer was great and the conversation better. Had a good exchange with the fellow across the table from me, a troubleshooter at Amazon, as well as listening to Krow try to figure out what he could do next to wreck the world. Charlie regaled us with tales of editors and agents that I shall not repeat, suffice to say that they fill me with both hope and dread should I ever start to shop my stories around pro.

The photo looks exactly like last year's entry, which makes sense since Stross wore exactly the same T-shirt and we met in exactly the same bar as last year.

Saturday: A small birthday

Family and friends head into the woods.

Saturday, we had our usual morning routine of breakfast and Kouryou-chan's dance class. While that went on, Omaha took Yamaraashi-chan out for clothes shopping, since the kidlet was running out of pants and shirts that fit her. I was dispatched home to put together a picnic basket, since our plan was to head out to Flaming Geyser state park and spend the day there.

After unrolling the drop-off routine, picking up Kouryou-chan and the Omaha and Yamaraashi-chan, we all drove out to the park, passing by lovely bucolic scenes of horses and buffalo grazing idly on the long grasses before reaching the park. Flaming Geyser is one of the state's oldest parks; it's been around since 1933, and it's also one of the parks on the chopping block for state maintenance funds. Lisakit thinks that's because, as one of the state's oldest parks, as well as one of the many working parks with a trout hatchery on it for local fisherman, even if the state defunds much of it there'll still be people willing to come and operate the hatchery and fields. There's no money for repairing the trails, however, and the state recently pulled its regular trash service for a "pack in, pack out" policy.

The flaming gashole

After a lovely lunch in the park's main field, during which park rangers circulated about on mountain bikes– and since when are rangers armed?–, the family sang Happy Birthday to me and then, much at the kids' insistence, we went out to see the eponymous Flaming Geyser. A note says that it used to be as much as three feet tall, but activity with digging and mining in the area has reduced it to less than one.

We then did the half-mile hike along the back ridge. I did the whole thing barefoot, which was kinda fun, although there were a few places where the trail had been graveled and that hurt my feet. Lisakit was a bit winded by the time we got down off the ridge, and I walked back with the girls to get the car, leaving Omaha and Lisa time to talk.

On the way home, we stopped by the valley butcher, who sold us elk burger and buffalo burger meat, as well as some local thick-cut bacon, which I'm looking forward to eating for lunch tomorrow.

I used the gronud buffalo to make sloppy joes when we got home, which were yummy, and gave both women vigorous footrubs. Yamaraashi-chan was dispatched to her mother's house for the evening, since tomorrow would be mother's day, and the rest of us settled down to a quiet evening. Omaha and Kouryou-chan played video games, Lisa eventually tottered back home, I cleaned up the kitchen. That was it, nothing more than domesticity run rampant. A nice, quiet birthday celebration doing the things that I like to do: hang out with my family, cook, and keep quiet.

Listening to the kids sing

Yamaraashi-chan sings!

Yamaraashi-chan's school had their annual chorus this past Wednesday, and like dutiful parents around the countly Omaha and I trooped out and listened through the half-hour show.

It was actually quite fun. Yamaraashi-chan was having a good time when she was singing; between songs, she still has trouble holding still, but this wasn't at all like when she was in Kid Sounds, the local for-hire chorus. (She left the chorus after one fundraiser concert for Ronald McDonald House was twisted into a church revival sans altar call.) The girl next to her didn't even open her mouth while the singing was going on.

They did a number of traditionals, and one interesting piece in the dark with only their hands illuminated with blacklight. It was all good.

Sunday: Now with herbs and stuff.

Vegetables!

A happy Mother's Day to all the mothers out there. Kouryou-chan, Yamaraashi-chan and I all gave Omaha hugs and cards and stuff, I called my mother, Omaha called all of her relations that are mothers. Omaha asked for pancakes for breakfast and that's what she got; they were a little dry this time, but Kouryou-chan made hers disappear just as readily as everyone else.

Yamaraashi-chan was at her mother's all day, but I remembered to send her phone an IM making sure she remembered to give her mom the card I'd asked her to pick out yesterday.

Lisa took Omaha down to Des Moines for some kind of plant and gardening show, I never did get the story straight on exactly what they were going for, leaving me to do some actual gardening. I mowed the back lawn at the highest setting, and will have to mow again in a few days at a lower setting, once the grass has recovered from the trauma. I raked the grass and mixed it in with some leaves and starter compost from the oldest of the compost bins, and I settled this into a pair of 45 gallon trash bins-- light enough I can turn them over and shake them at will, so they should compost nicely and quickly, if I remember to actually do the mixing.

But the best fun was gridding out the garden space and then planting: basil, stupice tomatoes, grape tomatoes, zucchini and strawberry vines. There's more to be done tomorrow: four of the plants didn't get planted. But I did water them all, and the ones in the dirt now have broken root bulbs and are planted in a healthy mix of really good compost and the local dirt.

I think I spent about four hours outside. The neighbor girl, who's about Kouryou-chan's age, is suddenly into talking about God a lot, and I'll have to disappoint PZ Meyers by saying that I didn't say anything to disabuse her of the notions her church feeds into her.

Omaha and Lisa arrived shortly after I'd put the tools away, and Omaha came bearing a bag full of clams. We boiled the clams, roasted potatoes, onions and carrots in a aluminum foil bag, grilled some salmon and made Italian sodas, and our mother's day dinner was delicious for all involved. Lisa brought some really good cheese and watermelon.

Now that was a productive day. The oregano is spreading though, and I have to weed out the space by the house's western wall where grass and blackberries are choking the life out of the old strawberry vines and the mint.