The Round Table

A story by Calvin

Summary: The story begins with a table, but with no people in sight the reader is confused as to the point of the setting. Strangely, the world becomes confusing—there is no recognizable center of gravity, no easily named 'up' or 'down', and things seem rather topsy-turvy. But just when the reader is entering a stage of panic, things settle down and the focus pans out. Be prepared for the final reveal (spoiler alert)—the reader has been alone inside a snow globe world the whole time and was just a little shaken up.

Analysis: it's a big world, and there may be more to it.

CSA visit

We were invited by some friends to join them at their CSA for pick-up day today. Joining a CSA (community supported agriculture) has been a goal/plan/dream of mine for some time. In fact, it's this particular CSA that has been on my radar for some time, so, aside from the great company and beautiful afternoon, we jumped at the chance to give the farm a visit. It's an organic farm just down the road in Chelsea and is well loved by many members of our homeschooling group. After today's visit I can see why. Everything about the place is welcoming and friendly, from the wandering pets to the wandering farmers; the food is beautiful and organic; the yard is full of fun things for kids to explore. We took a picnic lunch and, sitting at one of the many tables available in the yard, ate while the kids explored, vast fields and deep storm clouds setting the most beautiful backdrop. It is probably one of the most relaxing experiences I've had in a while, even with kid chaos erupting all around.

So we had a great time, and I'm a little in love with the farm itself. Of course, good friends and a heavy dose of nostalgia (it reminded me so much of afternoons on my grandparents' farm) really added to that feeling, but I think the only thing left to be decided is if I'll have the energy and time to pick up a share every week. But wait, what's that? I think the chard is calling my name.

Project 365, week 27

One for the week, and two for the trip to Chicago.

Heroes

Last night, after hastily unpacking and loving the dogs and grabbing a quick dinner in town, we high tailed it to the Michigan for yet another fantastic event. Strangely, after years of not setting foot inside the historic theater we've been there three times already this year, each time for a truly unique and unforgettable experience. In May it was Fitzgerald meets Luhrmann for The Great Gatsby—favorite book by a favorite author made into a movie by a respected director culminating in a grand experience. Two weeks ago it was Shakespeare meets Whedon for Much Ado About Nothing—an enjoyable story by a respected author made into a movie by a favorite director culminating in a brilliant movie (think stunning black and white with surprisingly skillful acting for a modern take with the traditional language).

Then last night's event went something like this: star struck literary fans meet extremely talented author for a delightful signing event. Neil Gaiman came to town. We're old fans of his. Jon and I were introduced to his work many years ago through Neverwhere, then moved through all the rest of his existing adult stuff and pounced on new titles as they arrived. Later, when Calvin was reading chapter books, we introduced him to Odd and the Frost Giants, and, my personal favorite of them all, The Graveyard Book. He has a new book out that reads like a dream, The Ocean at the End of the Lane, and he planned just four U.S. stops for a signing tour; Ann Arbor happened to be one of them.

But, after rushing to the theater and taking our seats with just minutes to spare, the announcement was made that due to major airport delays Mr. Gaiman was, in fact, not yet landed in Detroit. Remarkably, and I think this says a lot about his fandom in general, the two hours that we ended up waiting for his arrival passed smoothly, and the theater was still packed when he finally arrived. I think it also helps that he is active on twitter and posted constantly for waiting fans during much of that time. Social media is fun that way. We knew the moment he landed, and that he was very, very sorry, and that he was hurrying as fast as he could, and that, regardless of what the directors said about cutting things short at the event, he would honor the original signing agreement because we were such great fans to wait (a concession that kept him at the theater wielding a pen until 3am, but which makes him that much more awesome in our eyes).

We passed the time reading the books we'd brought for signing and munching on popcorn with beer and lemonade. Then Calvin decided at last to fill out a question card and drop it in the jar just before we were finally summoned to our seats. Fortuitous, because during the short question answering portion of the event, Mr. Gaiman selected and answered that very question.

"Are you going to write a sequel to Stardust? P.S. I love your books. -Calvin, age 7," he read on stage, "Really? Age 7? Or is that a 1? No, it must be a 7."

Calvin, Jon, and I looked on with a giddy delight and a sense of incredulity that actually matched Mr. Gaiman's own surprise later when he recognized Calvin in the signing line due to the name (for personalization) and his obvious youthfulness. I got the impression that he thought the age on the notecard had either been a joke or a sloppy misprint. Calvin was the youngest fan there, by at least a few years, and I don't think he actually expected him to be 7. He signed his copy of Graveyard with a little extra—a sketch of a tombstone personalized just for Calvin. As the usher standing there said to me, "from anyone else that would be creepy, but from him that's really awesome."

And that 3am finishing time? Well, when they started the call for the signing line, being in a balcony section we were slated to be one of the last. But they called for the usual exceptions first—people with mobility issues, pregnant women, and people with young children. So we took advantage of their offer, which got us out of there slightly after nine.

In Chicago time that's only slightly after eight, and well within bedtime limits.

Oz in Chicago

When Calvin was younger it was actually easier to write this blog because he was always so full of childhood wittiscisms and hilarious malapropisms that there was always a catchy tag to write around or a funny story to tell. As he becomes older, life has become a little more predictable and a little less hilarious...at least most of the time. Which isn't to say that all the fun and games are over, just that they are all a little more run-of-the-mill now.

So I have nothing to add here but an account of the rest of our Chicago trip. It included hours spent at the camping store prepping for our first backpacking/rustic camping adventure (coming soon!), an afternoon traipsing through Oz Park meeting the Scarecrow and his friends, fajitas grilled and eaten on the rooftop, a beer garden, a BBQ shack, and a Dairy Queen, plus the best part: lots of great family time.