Fire at 500 W Monroe
Today, just before noon, a fire broke out on the roof of the building at 500 W Monroe St. The fire was contained to the roof and thank goodness there were no injuries.
http://www.nbc5.com/news/11421002/detail.html
I left a little early for lunch, right around the time it broke out and happened to see the smoke as I turned around. I had actually been planning on walking north today, away from downtown, when it started. Immediately I headed towards the area, arriving just after the fire trucks and emergency vehicles did. Of course I had my camera with me and started shooting away.
Around 12:40 I was back in the office and I uploaded a few of the shots to my flickr account, making sure to post to the Chicago and Chicago Public Radio groups.
The above is my favorite shot of the grouping and as it turns out, ChicagoPublicRadio.com picked up the photo for their front page for the rest of today.
Ah internets, how neat you are. 
St. Patrick is the patron saint of crawling
This past weekend, 
helloheather, Nathan, and I headed to Indianapolis. I took Friday off in order to give us enough time to drive down with frequent (if necessary) stops for Nathan. We both would much rather travel during the day than at night...and it's never, ever fun to try and drive out of Chicago at 5pm on a Friday.
After arriving we headed down to somebodystrange and davesanngel's new house south of Indy for food and seeing both new puppies and everyone who traveled so far to be there. We drove into town with the light fading but it showed me that I would love to head back there in the evening with a camera and a tripod. I think the textures and forms would fit right into the minimalism that seems to be most prevalent in my photography.
Staying with hellohilary and gonj was good, as it always is. They have a really nice place. Gonj and I got in a few games of Project Gotham Racing 3 on the XBOX 360. I was hoping the weather would be a little warmer that I could take Nathan out in the stroller for a bit of a walk, but it remained cool. His napping schedule prevented us from being able to eat and drink at the Broad Ripple Brew Pub (oh scotch eggs how I miss thee) on Saturday, but everyone came over after lunch and visited.
Saturday night was another great St. Patrick's day party at Paul and Sue's. Child-wrangling (as helloheather pointed out in her entry) has certainly changed our parties. Had I not been sick I would have had at least a couple of beverages, but sadly this was not to be. Gone, I fear, are the days of drinking and smoking cigars until 3am on the back porch.
But the big news of the weekend was that Nathan learned how to crawl. He demonstrated it fully that evening when, attracted by St. Patrick's Day beads on a necklace, he scooted across the floor to grab them. Not just once, but many times. It was quite amazing to see and he was clearly happy to do it. I find it very fitting that, surrounded by our friends and our group tradition, Nathan transitioned to another stage in his life. And at the same time, it made me wish we all lived closer together, so that we could more often experience both important and mundane events.
Here, for the first time, we present a Dramatic Reenactment of that very first crawl:
Since then he's only gotten stronger, faster, better...he has the technology...
I just hope I have the energy!
What was lost has been found
A couple of weeks ago, I lost one of the gloves a coworker purchased for me. It was a nice pair of gloves, the kind that flip back allowing your fingers out for delicate tasks but for everything else are covered in mitten-like fashion. The replacement pair did not last very long (less than a day) and subsequently the return to the store netted me a credit instead of a new pair.
This morning, while walking across the parking lot at my train station, I found the missing glove. It was sitting next to a small tree on a grassy divider in the parking lot. Prior to the warm weather, what occupied this space was a four or five foot-high pile of snow that the plows had pushed there when they came to clear the lot. And my glove, apparently, was at or near the bottom of this pile.
And since the snow all melted away due to the nice weather we've been having, my glove appeared.
I'm amazed by this. Several people have said I should have purchased a lotto ticket today.
It’s impossible to aim a duck to death
The title of my post comes from a "fortune" cookie I opened Monday night. I don't know when fortune cookies stopped actually giving you a fortune and instead just give you "advice" that makes most daily horror-scopes look like "War and Peace," but it's damn annoying.
It seems like every time I re-commit myself to blogging and to making sure I read (and comment on) the blogs of friends and family, some sort of roadblock is thrown up in my path. I'm not sure if I'm either not getting the "hint" or if it's meant to be a struggle I can overcome. The problem here is that this most recent roadblock has spilled over into my photoblog. Monday's photo was the last one in the queue. Were I not able to sit down for a few minutes before dinner and upload 2 new ones, cetan.org would have been a ghost town.
The recent rash of warm weather has left me a bit torn. On the one hand, it's wonderful to not have to carry a heavy coat (usually with a lighter coat underneath), hat, neck gator, gloves etc. every day. But at the same time, the snow has melted with such speed that I'm shocked every time I look outside. We've had snow covering the ground for the longest time I can remember in recent years and in just a few days, it's all but gone. Of course, in typical spring weather, the 70 degree high we had yesterday is likely to give way to up to an inch of snow tonight.
helloheather, Nathan, and I went to the "Festival of the Sugar Maple" this past Saturday. It was an hour long program put on by the McHenry County Conservation District and was a lot of fun. Nathan had a blast being carried around in his baby carrier.
Chicago Public Radio dot com – 03-08
A recent photo from my photoblog ( http://cetan.org/index.php?showimage=252 ) is the featured photo on the ChicagoPublicRadio.com website today:
Eight months in a flash
Eight months have gone by in a flash. It's rather frightening that I can hardly remember Nathan as a newborn; it just seems so long ago. I wish I could retain more and forget less. I feel like I'm losing bits and pieces of a very important story.
Though I've been saying it for a number of weeks, Nathan is very close to crawling. He can get to a sitting position from all fours, which sometimes leads him to back up while trying to get an uncooperative leg around front. He can't be placed on a bed or couch without immediately (and with reckless abandon) making a twisting and rolling break for the edge.
He's very, very strong in my arms. Turn him the "wrong" direction (by whatever criteria he uses to determine to "right" and "wrong") and he can twist out of my hands like a gyroscope. I should start calling him my little bicycle wheel.
I may have discussed this in previous posts, but I'm very torn over many of the milestones Nathan achieves. Part of me wants to rush forward, to get to the stage where he can walk around, hold my hand and I can teach, show, and help. Perhaps I'll think differently when we get there, but I long for days of Q&A. Yet, at the same time, I look upon those days with such fear and trepidation. I'm frightened of him becoming his own person, of being independent of me, of learning of my faults. I want him to stay this little boy who's happy to see anyone; who can't yet fall down the stairs or off his bike; who is still amazed at the sound of my voice as I display "new" vowel and consonant combinations.
Last night I found a toy of his, one that he'd not seen in a while, in the bottom of toy box. He sat on the floor in the living room, twisting it around and around in his hands, and I was on my stomach next to him. I leaned my head in close to his and he responded by keeping contact with me. I talked quietly with him and he seemed very relaxed. For those few minutes, with music playing lightly in the background, the rest of the world seemed to melt away. His concentration was not to be broken, except when he was satisfied with his accomplishment. Watching him explore the toy was magical. It reminded me of how I used to read to him, before he could grab the book away. When he would lie still seemingly stunned by the images of animals or toys or of boats in the ocean.
What I hope, most of all, is that moments like these do not become so infrequent as to be yet another lost memory of mine. To crawl and explore the suddenly smaller world is a powerful draw and there is no doubt that Nathan will partake. But it would be so nice if I could be there for the quiet interludes as well.
Music: M. Ward - "Chinese Translation"