The Hands Off! demonstration in Saint Paul was very well attended. Despite the outrage at the Trump regime, the crowd was friendly and in good spirits, including many creative signs.
My favorite moment was on the sidelines when an impromptu band started playing to drown out a fanatic preacher with a bullhorn yelling about how we were all bound for hell. (I don’t even think you can see or hear the preacher in this video, but he’s off to the left under the scaffolding.)
On February 1, I posted about a video game that Griffin and his friend, James, submitted to the National Science Foundation’s Game Maker Awards competition. According to the official timeline, judging should have finished on March 14 and the winners would be announced on April 2.
Imagine Griffin’s surprise when he received this email on March 30:
Dear NSF Game Maker contestant,
Thank you for participating in the NSF Game Maker Awards. We are pausing the judging process until further notice. If an entrant was eligible for the competition at the time of their initial submission but has since aged out of the K-12 category due to delays in the competition timeline, they will remain eligible for judging and prize award. Their entry will be evaluated alongside current K-12 participants, ensuring fairness and continuity. No additional action is required from the entrant to maintain eligibility.
Please check the Game Maker Award website for updates.
Thanks,
The NSF Game Maker Awards team
Going to the website didn’t provide any additional information, though the contest pages have this information posted in the header of each page:
Also at the top of each page is a link to “Learn about NSF’s implementation of recent executive orders.”
Although it is not explicitly stated anywhere on the linked page, we assume that the competition was paused in response to these “recent executive orders.”
This is, of course, a minor thing. Griffin and James will be fine. But in our family, it felt like an ominous sign of how quickly the new administration’s priorities can directly affect us.
This may seem trite, but I am reminded of a haunting quote from The Fellowship of the Ring, in reference to the dark lord Sauron:
“His arm has grown long indeed,” said Gimli, “if he can draw snow down from the North to trouble us here three hundred leagues away.”
“His arm has grown long,” said Gandalf.
These are the words that echo through my head today.
I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve chaperoned our annual seventh grade trip to Camp Widjiwagan in northern Minnesota. This year was special, however, because it was Maggie’s turn to join the adventure. She’s heard about the trip for years, so she was greatly looking forward to it.
Camp Widjiwagan is on the north shore of Burntside Lake in northern Minnesota. It’s about four and a half hours from the Twin Cities. This is far enough that it is noticeably colder and snowier than the central part of the state. We left early on Monday morning and returned on Friday afternoon, spending four nights in rustic cabins in the woods.
The only downside to the trip was that Maggie caught a stomach bug on her final day, keeping her up for much of the night. A thousand thanks to my colleagues, Cat and Mackenzie, who took good care of her in her cabin. They brought her over to the impromptu infirmary in one of the admin buildings where I was able to be with her for the rest of the night. By morning, she was over it, though I did sit with her on the bus home to try and reduce the spread of any germs to her friends. (The final pic in the gallery below is our selfie on the bus… we don’t look as sleep-deprived as we were.)
Most of the following pictures were taken by the ever-talented Bobak Razavi.
We all have a rare day off from school today due to extreme cold temperatures. The wind chill when I woke up this morning was -36°F.
Interestingly, that’s cold enough that normally pliable plastics become near solid. Practical example: Sarah pulled out our electric pump to put some air into a low tire on the car. The power cord was stiff and difficult to work with. When she plugged it in and turned on the compressor, sparks flew and the cable was severed in half! We think that the plastic effectively snapped in the cold, causing a short circuit.
This reminds me of an experience I had during my first year in Minnesota. I biked to school one morning when it was severely cold. (I rarely biked in the winter, but there was no snow or ice on the roads, so I chanced it.) My bike lock at the time was a heavy braided steel cable sheathed in clear plastic. I normally kept it coiled around my seat stem, uncoiling it to run through the wheels and rack. On this morning, however, I could not uncoil it, it was like a solid steel helix wrapped around the post. Putting all my strength into it, it finally gave a little and then shattered. I distinctly recall the sound of the plastic shards hitting the cement like tinkling glass. The steel cable itself was unscathed, but the plastic was unable to cope.
The cold does come with some bonuses besides getting a day off from school. Our sun porch, not as well insulated as the main house, forms spectacular window frost patterns.
Next week, Maggie and I are heading up north for a week at Camp Widjiwagan. This is the annual seventh grade retreat that I’ve chaperoned for many years. We’re both looking forward to it. Yesterday, however, I checked the weather report near the camp:
That’s seriously cold. Fortunately, the outlook for next week is balmier. With highs in the teens above zero, the kids will likely spend all their time rampaging through the wilderness while their long-suffering teachers tend to the fire in the cozy lodge.
As part of a school thing this week, I needed to find a baby pic of myself. I found the perfect one. Not sure when this was taken, but since David is in it, and he was born in February of 1973, it must be after that.
To round out this trio of cabin posts, I took a few other random pictures of the sorts of things we did at the cabin this weekend: deflating and stowing the dock, touching up some trim paint, adding some non-stick strips to the wooden dock, role-playing games, other dice games, and a marvelous jigsaw puzzle (a gift from Grummy who passed along her love of puzzles to Andrew). We also prepped the well and pump for winter and put the snow shovels up on the covered porch lest they be irretrievable if anyone visits after the place is buried in snow. (We’ve learned that the hard way.)
Lest one think that we live an irredeemably charmed life, I should also mention that we did face a few challenges. For example, although the cool weather meant that there were few bugs outside, the black flies love to hibernate under the cabin roof. When the place warms up, they emerge in droves. Herds of droves. Hordes of herds of droves. We swatted and cursed at them, but our only moderately effective solution was to vacuum them up multiple times per day.
The kids got very excited to build a “tree-ish house.” They started by extending a small treehouse that the built last year. This was cool, but took up a lot of prime real estate and interfered with the view from the cabin. After some discussion, they chose a new plot in heretofore unexplored territory. (It’s only about 30 feet west of the prior spot, but it’s screened by trees.) They enlisted Sarah’s professional help, removed the old structure and built a new, improved one. The sounds of hammers and saws filled the woods today.
The first picture below shows them beginning to deconstruct the first draft house. The rest show the new one. (And Piper, of course!)
We made it up to the cabin for a long weekend. The weather is perfect: highs near 70 and lows just below 50. It’s dog heaven for Piper. The kids are engaged in a construction project. We saw the comet from the dock last night. A jigsaw puzzle is underway and we played a shockingly close game of Farkle. Not a bad way to recharge in the midst of a very busy autumn.
Note that while “GO MOM HQ” sounds like a worthy homage to Sarah, it actually stands for “Griffin, Oliver, Maggie, Olive, and Murray.” (Olive and Murray are two of the kids’ best friends who regularly come up to the cabin with us.)
It’s the first day of school at SPA. This is Griffin’s fourth year on campus, and his second year in the upper school. It’s Maggie’s first time, joining the seventh grade. (This is Andrew’s 15th year.)
This weekend we joined our friends Ellie and Kelsey and two of their kids at Wild River State Park about an hour from Saint Paul. It was our first time tent camping in years and Piper’s first trip. She was amazingly well-behaved—nervous when we bumped into some horses on the trail, but she never barked.
