In the house I grew up in the single dominating feature was the backyard. Large looming oak trees (3) and a deep expanse of grass that seemed to go on forever to my young eyes.

Other notable features included a sandbox on the far back/right corner, this was also the location of the occasional compost bin back when leaf pickup was a thing of the future.

At one point there was a large strawberry patch, grape vines and an assortment of fruit trees that I can’t recall ever eating. The garden held a special spot in the back/left side of the lawn. A wooden privacy fence kept kids and neighbors out, but all too often became something that I would fall off.

I loved that backyard, I would spend endless hours out there playing under the oak tree canopy that kept the yard shady on even the hottest day.

Although many things changes in that backyard, one thing remained constant — my Father’s riding lawnmower.

The yard was a little less than a quarter acre in size, big enough to warrant the need for a riding mower. Mowing that lawn was something my Father always took very seriously.

As a result, the lawn was impeccable. I suspect that the riding mower played a large part in that equation of excellence. Over the years he had a number of different makes and models. Names like Snapper, Simplicity and TORO were well known in our house.

When I bought my first house my Dad gave me the old Snapper trim mower. It didn’t matter to me that it was only 12 or 14 inches wide (can’t recall), it was a great mower that had been part of the Lange lawn tradition.

It was a sad day when it died, but a self propelled TORO push mower took its place. The TORO has done a decent enough job, being a mulcher it tends to get bogged down in certain shade areas, but all in all it works pretty decent.

My lawn is marginal at best. But that is about to change. On a recent call from by Dad:

Steve, I’ve decided to buy a new Simplicity mower.

What?? I think, he just bought that zero turn radius TORO less than four years ago. I ask what was wrong with it.

Oh nothing, I just don’t really care for it and want to go back to a Simplicity.

Okay, that I can understand — when he bought the TORO initially I was somewhat surprised that he went with a zero turn radius mower, it does have a learning curve. What he said next shocked me.

“Do you think you would want my old mower? They won’t give me squat on a trade in.”

“Of course I would love to have it!” I exclaimed.

At this point Karin starts to look at me funny, no doubt wondering what hair-brain thing I have just agreed to take as I shower him with thank yous.

So I have a riding lawnmower being delivered on this Saturday morning. My Dad even paid to have it delivered and like a typical parent refused to let me pay for the delivery.

This may sound crazy, and the thought of having a riding mower on with a lawn my size seems excessive at best — but I think my lawn is on the brink of a major change for the better. I am looking forward to see if this mower is its ticket to excellence.

The weather yesterday was craptacular, it started weepy and ended up humid.  Great start, great finish.  Its amazing how much the upcoming weather means to at the end of the week.  At the beginning I could care less, good or bad I am still looking down the upcoming work week with quiet resignation.

Around Thursday the weather radar starts to come online and by Friday it takes on a much more significant importance.

“Check weather.com and see what the weather is going to be like tomorrow.” Karin asked in a casually last night.

I happily fired up FireFox and silently hoped the news would continue to look good.  I don’t mind crappy weather, but I find myself still in Spring fever mode.

As I read off the predicted weather we both begin to think about what we want to do around the yard the next day.  Our yard is for lack of better words, a blank canvas, a stock carbon copy of so many other homes.

The backyard is barren of any trees, the front has the typical builder evergreens that no one in their right mind would never plant intentionally. Our two improvements are flower boxes and a fence.  I know what you are thinking — “Wheee!”

We feel the same way.  It doesn’t help of course that neither Karin and I are huge garden people.  I would like to be, but so far it just hasn’t panned out.  Our motivation at this point is almost embarrassment over the lack of change from when we moved in.

The general talk and plan we decided on was to get some flowers for the planters and plants for the side of the house.  I recently acquired a spade and am looking forward to laying out a curving spline with the hose to create some sort of bed on the side of the house.

Sounds like a great plan, somewhere in there we were also trying to plan a dinner party at a great German restaurant called the Bavarian Lodge in Lisle, IL — Karin was going to try and work in an early movie with her friend, my neighbor and I were going to talk seriously about fence staining, and on top of all that Maverick wanted to play catch with the football.

I thankfully prioritized correctly and went to play catch, but after about ten minutes Mav had had enough.  I however was just starting to enjoy the warm sun and cool breeze.  Then I had an idea.

A memory really of a kite that Grandma Betty bought for Maverick last year gathering dust in our office closet.  The wind was perfect and with an open space walking distance away, I knew what would be next on our agenda.

Bringing down the kite I was happily surprised to see that it was of decent quality.  Nylon, stitched and sporting a twenty dollar price tag.  A dragon kit, with a long tail.  Sweet!  In no time we had it in the air and soaring well over our heads.

Despite Maverick’s concerns I decided to let the line out to really get it some altitude.  It flew like a champ — Rock solid to be exact.  No threat of crash and burn here.  I so wanted to lie down and stare up into the azure sky and watch it fly but the fiery eye in the sky was exactly where the kite was flying and it was brutally strong.

It’s been probably 17 years since I really have flown a kite like that.  Sure I’ve helped Maverick with crappy inexpensive kites here and there but they have stayed well under 20-30 feet so I don’t really consider them to be real kite flying attempts.  I had forgotten how peaceful flying a kit can be.  I will have to do it again soon, preferably next time later in the day when the Sun won’t thwart my relaxation attempts.

How old were you when Santa ceased to exist? When the reality of his existence went up like smoke in a chimney into the cold winter air.

I want to say that I was eight or nine years old at the time. I can’t recall exactly how it happened, or even where but I it more than likely happened in grade school.

Grade school is just the first of many world expansions that we find thrust upon us whether we like it or not. Holiday figures such as Santa and the Easter Bunny hardly stood any chance of survival.

My son is six and a half now. Kindergarten has been a real learning experience for him. Karin and I have delighted in seeing him grow into a little boy.

But how many years does he have left before Santa stops being real? One? Two? I can only hope for at least that, if we are lucky.

The important thing is that we have kept the “Christ” in Christmas. Santa has never taken the spotlight in our house, and my plan when the myth of Santa Claus fades is to teach Maverick about the original of Santa Claus.

Autumn was always the season that I had a love/hate relationship with. Growing up I loved the cool crisp weather, it was always a welcome break from the humid hell of a summer we usually endured here in Illinois. But at the same time, I would dread it like a visit to the dentist when I knew I had a cavity.

As fortunate as I was to grow up where I did, and I do consider myself truly fortunate — the three fully grown, oak trees in my backyard were a force to be reckoned with in autumn. On a good day, one could clear the backyard in oh, maybe 25 bags.

So you can imagine why it was then that I avoided it like the plague, and how this potential for manual labor would contribute to my love hate relationship with autumn. It was then as you can imagine, highly humorous to my Father when my first home had in its backyard a fully grown sugar maple.

I think that tree only dropped about ten bags of leaves. Try as I might, I could not get my wife to rake them up no matter how many foot rubs that in all likelihood would never happen. Damn, she just would not take the bait.

Keeping this in mind you would wonder why I was walking through an a grove of Maple trees at the Morton Arboretum with my wife and son today. As crazy as this may sound given my previous epic tale of man vs. leaves, I really miss having trees.

Our current home, a cookie cutter track house not without its own charms, has a backyard that is a barren wasteland, grass dominates its landscape and nary a single tree claims it as its home — welcome to suburbia.

So we decided to go see the trees at the Arboretum with hopes of finding some that we would “fall” in love with. The great thing about the Arboretum is that the trees and plants all are tagged with both the common and scientific name. This really makes it easy to get the exact same tree you see.

I had to laugh as we started out expedition, I had forgotten the pen and paper and told Karin that we had to go back to the car to get it. She got this sort of bemused look on her face and said…

“Why don’t we just take a picture of the tag?”

Well duh, sometimes I can be a bit slow in the head. My wife did get a good laugh out of it, and to be honest I found it funny as well. As we left the Arboretum, pictures in hand and visions of the color explosions we would one day see in our backyard, I had a momentary flashback to raking leaves.

But this time I pushed it away, they would no longer bother me — this time “I” was the one with a son, and unlike my Father, I will get him to rake… I wonder if my Dad thought the same thing about me?

Well we are fresh back from dropping Maverick off at kindergarten. The ladies (Karin & Betty) are off shopping to give me some quiet time before Karin puts my ass to work cleaning the house in preparation for her party tonight (I love my days off).

This morning started with one excited boy, he was in a good mood and not at all hesitant or scared like I feared he might be. At times he can be pretty shy, so I had hoped today would go well and it did thankfully.

We ate some of Betty’s banana bread and drank some coffee that Karin has added Tastefully Simple Vanilla Bean chiller mix to which was totally kick ass tasting. At 8:25 AM we headed out for pictures and to join the “Mom Parade” as Karin calls, heading down to the school.

I really think talking up how cool school is helped Maverick, he clearly was not afraid or hesitant, excitement bubbled behind his eyes. As we came closer to the school the ladies started to feel more emotional. I was waiting for the waterworks from Karin, I really thought she would be bawling like a baby, but alas and alack — they never came. Good for you Karin!

Grandma Betty on the other had, did not fare so well. There were tears, but they were well hidden. My attempts to capture them with the camera were met with disdain, and generally failed. All in all, it was a pretty cool experience. It really made me think back to when I was in kindergarten.

Its amazing the things I still remember — the door outside, my friend Jim, my mom taking our photo, the hooks outside the room, the orange day glow chairs in the room. Looking over their curriculum for the year its wild how much different, how much more educational the kindergarten program is today compared to when I was in kindergarten some 32, almost 33 years ago.

This Friday is my son Maverick’s first day of kindergarten. I can hardly believe that he is six! It seems like yesterday that I was holding this little bundle of crying boy child in my arms and wondering what his life would be like. Wondering how I would be as a Father.

And now its six years later. We have had bumps, falls, bruises, laughter, crying, joy. We have changed disgusting diapers, smelled things no human should have to smell, and been more excited about potty training than any basketball/football or hockey championship.

We have watched his personality develop and taken pride in his good natured kindness to his friends, family and pets. I have cheered as he has embraced Star Wars, and shaken my head at his insistence on tucking in his shirt, no matter what type.

And now he is headed to kindergarten. Its the start of his school career, and in a way, the end of his innocence. There will be things I can’t shield him from, people who will take advantage of his good nature — slowly, slowly but surely, his innocence will start to be lost.

Its an odd thing to consider really. I love seeing him grow up, and hope that his school experience is more enjoyable than mine ever was. In retrospect I am so glad that we decided to wait until he was six to start kindergarten. He is so much more ready emotionally for school.

I used to dread going to school, and now I find myself dreading this Friday. I know in my head that time doesn’t stop for anyone, but in a selfish sort of way I kind of wish it could. I love him. He is the best thing that ever happened to us, and while I will smile and be excited for him, inside I will, and I know Karin will be sorry to see our baby go to school.

I think one of the greatest gifts of getting old is the ability to look back on your life and ponder why you acted a certain way or developed a certain habit or way of life. One of the things that I have noticed about myself is that I tend to be hopefully pessimistic about things.

That is to say that I am hopeful that things will go my way and work out, but prepared from the start for the very real possibility that it will fail. Looking back at the emotional roller-coaster that Karin and I rode for years trying to conceive, its no real shocker that I tend to hold this view.

I think its also a reason why I am so varied in my interests and hobbies. If I try something and hate it, I can just move onto something else. No pressure, no worry of failure.

Once in a while, everyone needs to step outside of their comfort zone. Today is my day. With the ever growing wait times in China, we decided to start a concurrent adoption for an eight year old girl from Taiwan named Chia-Jung.

We fell in love with her story and knew she was destined to be our daughter. So we applied to adopt her. We were one of five families under consideration. Yesterday we were told that they have narrowed the number of families down to three, and that we were one of the three.

They had additional questions for ourselves and one other family. What did this mean? Did they like the two who were asked more questions better than the one who did not? Or did it just mean that we needed to provide more information to match the one not asked? Maddening questions to contemplate. So, we provided our answers to the best of our ability and sent the paperwork off to be sent to Taiwan.

Normally I would try to not think about the process during the waiting period. I would assume that we would not be chosen, and prepare myself accordingly. Self, I say… SCREW THAT! I am going to hope and pray and wish and dream and invest myself emotionally with all of my will bent on the assumption that we will be chosen.

When or not we are chosen, I expect to be flooded by unbridled emotion. It will either by joy or grief, that much I know. What I refuse to do this time is wall myself off from the potential pain. All I have to say is…. You better bring it!

The First Rule of Knit Club is…, originally uploaded by Eleven 22.

You don’t talk about Knit Club. The second rule of Knit club is… You don’t fucking talk about Knit Club. And the last rule is… if this is your first night at Knit Club — You have to Knit!

Okay, so I am no Brad Pitt (its the hair right? LOL). What the hell am I doing you might be wondering. Knitting of all things. The next question is logically — Why?

One word: marytree. Yup, our favorite artistic free spirit is a knitter, and at one of the parties we attended we began to talk about her knitting projects.

She said she could teach me to knit, I scoffed. Me? Knit? Why don’t you just cut my balls off I thought. But, she had planted a seed in me head, and the ball of yarn just kept growing.

It came to a head when Karin dragged us along to a book signing, as Maverick, Betty and I circled in the back, perusing the books I came to the craft section, and as luck would have it, a book on how to knit.

I walked by it a few times, finally uttered something under my breath and decided to buy it. You couldn’t have seen two more surprised looks when Karin and her mom saw what I had bought walking to our cars.

So when Karin was away at her conference, and the three boys I was watching were slowing driving me insane, I took them to Michael to get some sort of craft item to keep them busy, and while I was there, bought some yarn and needles.

The first yarn and needles I bought were not as I would soon find out, rank amateur friendly. So I went back and did what any good man would do, bought bigger. Way bigger. Much better results.

So what you see here is the end of my first roll of yarn, its going to be a scarf for Karin, a small token if you will to pave the road toward my iPhone purchase.

A Long Dead Tree, originally uploaded by Eleven 22.

This weekend we attended a Fox Valley FCC event in Yorkville, IL. It was at a forest preserve that we have driven by at least fifty times but have never visited.

Among the usual suspects there were a few new faces in the crowd. I am always impressed when new people come to a gathering, its not an easy thing to do.

Adoption is hard enough, going to an event with people who have adopted can be a daunting thing to those waiting to adopt. I know I was a bit hesitant, Karin was not, but I think all women have an innate ability for social networking.

One of the new faces was a gent with a really nice 35mm camera, I saw him in passing as I arrived and met his wife and daughter who immediately announced that she was four (again, notice the ability to the female form to socially network! My son, six, was hiding behind mom).

After making the rounds I decided to go introduce myself to her husband, we shook hands and I learned his name was Jeff, he looked vaguely familiar.

He asked my last name and seemed to be thinking. “Did you go to school at Saint..” as he started to talk it clicked. St. Edward Central High School, classmate, Jeff, Orazinski? I stumbled…

Okrasinski he said with a smile. Wow, it had been almost twenty years since I had last seen Jeff. The funny thing was I had been perusing facebook not even a week earlier and saw his picture. What a coincidence and a small world that we would both find ourselves at a China adoption event.

On a nature walk with the kids we both stopped to take a look at this tree — it was completely dead and surrounded by a vibrant green forest, it provided a stark contrast to its surrounding.

Looking at this photo I couldn’t shake the feeling that this tree was symbolic of so many past friendships that have withered out and died over the years.

The surrounding forest represents my life, full, thriving and connected with so many people. I can’t help but think how things might have been different if I had kept up with the friends that this tree represents.

I work as a networking services supervisor, a job that lives and dies on its ability to keep systems up and running and in a state that can easily be recovered from in the event of failure. Why then did I take the most minimum of steps to prevent it from happening at home? I am a dumb ass that is why. No other explanation.

Funny thing is, when I talk to my associates only one of them has done more than I have by way of backup and recovery. Bah.

So the iMac downstairs took a crap, I have limited photo backup, and none of Karin’s stuff backed up. All my attempts to recover have come up with no indication that the hard drive even exists.

We ran the Apple hardware testing tool and it came back saying everything was fine, Karin is taking the iMac to a past co-worker who has access to some heavy duty tools to see if he has any better luck. Keeping my fingers crossed.