The kids and I made it through our single-parent weekend without too much difficulty, thanks to the help and support of friends.

The band played at Quail Creek Country Club on Friday night. After talking with one of the folks in charge, Grant was impressed enough with the place that, as we ate from the plates we’d loaded up at the catfish buffet, he said “If one of the wait staff offers me tea or water with our food, I’m going to join.” The wait staff then proceeded to walk by our table seven times without so much as looking at us as they attended to other diners, thus costing the club a membership. (I’d already decided not to join after the staff didn’t even bother to look amused when I’d asked what a golf-cart-racing membership would cost.)

On Saturday, the kids and I did a little bit of gift shopping after our original plan to go up to Hamilton Pool to swim was foiled by the weather. We also took a walk through the San Marcos Cemetery, which is only a few blocks from our house. We were intrigued to discover headstones for individuals born as early as 1815 and saddened by the plots of children who hadn’t lived long enough to see their first birthdays. We then went off to some friends’ mortgage-burning party, where they celebrated full ownership of their beautiful hill-country home with lots of BBQ and more music. Liam enjoyed playing croquet late into the evening with anybody he could rope in, while Maggie and Emily ran around with friends, eating, drinking, and being merry.

On Sunday, we enjoyed church in the morning and a visit from Austin friends in the afternoon. Later, I played at Cheatham Street, affording an opportunity to celebrate Carl & Carolyn Taylor’s 51st anniversary with them, as well as to stretch out my birthday celebrations just a bit longer. Meara even managed to guilt Dad McMains into getting out on the dance floor with Lana — the first time I can remember seeing Dad do so. After the kids had been in bed for an hour or so, I got a call from Kathy, who was getting back from Mexico sooner than expected. She had a great time, really enjoying her trip and the people she spent it with.

So it was a good weekend all around! Again, a hearty thanks to those of you who helped these past few days. We’re constantly grateful to be surrounded by such good, supportive friends and family.

I encountered a few thoughts on faith this morning I thought worth sharing.

• Gordon Atkinson returns from a month-long writing hiatus with a nice little piece called The Dignity of Children. After a weekend with Kathy away, the balance between caring for the kids and “getting things done” looms large in my mind. This one was a good reminder that my illusions of control are — or at least should be — secondary to the importance of loving and enjoying these little people who have been trusted to me for a too-brief time.
• Hans Anderson has a piece up on Public Radio Exchange called God is Talking To Me, a meditation on why God works as he does cleverly disguised an an amusing and engaging fictional narrative. Well worth a listen.

Kathy left yesterday for a 3 day trip to the interior of Mexico for the wedding of two of our church friends. (Hi Sam & Alba!) This wouldn’t normally be a big deal at all, except that this particular weekend, I have a gig scheduled every night — Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. Several of our wonderful friends are helping with kid-wrangling, for which I’m awfully grateful, but it still looks like it might not be a completely low-stress time until my lovely bride returns.

Regardless, I’m glad that Kathy, who hasn’t gotten to travel too widely, is having this chance to see more of Mexico, as well as to have a mini-vacation. Further, I should be able to dissipate whatever stress I rack up this weekend in another week, when I slip off to North Carolina for Chris’s bachelor party.

After the main service this past Sunday, our church made its way down to Pecan Park Retreat, a wonderful campground along a bend in the San Marcos River, for a picnic and baptism service. Mom McMains, Grandy, and Gayle had come up from San Antonio to be a part of the goings-on and to see Emily baptized there in the river.

After we finished wolfing down curry tuna salad sandwiches and tossed frisbees around for a bit, we all headed down to the water’s edge. The air was a bit chilly — the water even more so, as the springs from which the river flows are only a few miles upstream, and the water has little time to warm up before it gets to the campground. Pastor Craig and I waded out into the river with Emily, and after Craig had administered a mini-catechism, we dunked her and pulled her back up to the cheers and applause of the rest of the church, who were wisely waiting on the banks of the river.

Liam was originally slated to get baptized on Sunday as well, but when he started acting reluctant and asking questions like “Do I have to get baptized?” and “If I don’t get baptized, will I still be able to get a driver’s license?” we decided it might be best to hold off a little longer.

Thanks to everyone who supported Emily on this important day!

For her birthday this past year, Kathy went out and got her first tattoo. It’s a line art Celtic cross that she designed by combining several different patterns culled from the Internet. She chose to use only thin lines and black ink, figuring that because this was her first foray into tattooing, and because the pattern was to be inscribed on the back of her neck (an especially sensitive area), keeping the poking to a reasonable level would be a good thing.

The tattoo came out beautifully. Kathy was very happy with it, and likes the fact that she can let her hair down to be discreet when the occasion demands or pull it up to show off her mark when she likes. One bit of flexibility that has been a bit more of a surprise, however, is that because the line art looks like a coloring book, there’s no reason the kids feel they shouldn’t get to color it. We’ve found that colored Sharpies work best, as they have a fine point and last for a good long while. It’s great fun to be able to change the tattoo according to the season of the year or the colors of the liturgical calendar.

Here are a couple of photos of one of our young tattoo artists at work and the results of her efforts:

Kathy’s brother Dan has been living in our garage apartment for nearly a year now. He decided to come down to Texas to spend some time with this portion of the family, see what Texas is like, and to have a change of scenery. Today he boards a Greyhound bus bound for North Carolina, where his friend Dave Reed, with whom he’ll be rooming, lives. We’re sorry to see him go, as he’s become an important part of the family and the kids have adored having an uncle in residence.

Take care, Dan! We’ll miss having you around!

One of the benefits of working at the University is that, after a year’s employment, I can take off 3 hours a week from work to take classes. The caveat, however, is that the classes either have to be part of a degree program or directly related to one’s work.

I’ve quite liked the freedom from homework I’ve enjoyed since finishing college, but it would seem a shame not to take some advantage of this benefit. While the classes I’d most be interested in taking aren’t at all related to my job, even within the Computer Science department there are several courses that sound fascinating: Human Factors of Computer Science, Advanced Artificial Intelligence, Distributed Computing, Neural Networks. Unfortunately, the Graduate College really seems to want people to enroll in a degree program to take graduate-level courses, and it’s tough to get enthusiastic about that now, especially given that I don’t have any of the undergraduate classes that they consider prerequisites. (My degree was in Music Education.)

So, what to do? I guess I’ll nose around the department a bit and see if they have any provision for people who have worked in the industry for a long while, but don’t have the formal schooling or, even better, might allow me to sit in on classes I’m interested in without worrying about a degree program.

Today I started dipping my toes into the chilly water of Podcasting. A Podcast, for those of you who haven’t encountered the phenomena, is a lot like a weblog, but done with audio, rather than text. One subscribes to a podcast, after which each episode of that podcast is automatically loaded as it’s released into one’s iPod (or PSP) for later listening. The technology’s still a bit clunky, but it’s rather nice to have regularly updated audio content for my walks to work.

The downside, however, is that because of the time-based nature of the medium, it requires fairly ruthless editing. I can’t skip to the next paragraph if I want to get through it quickly, nor can I skim. This problem is compounded by the fact that editing audio is harder than editing prose, which means that while it needs to be edited more heavily than text, it’s often edited less. No matter how charming Adam Curry is, one can’t listen to him ride the elevators in the Waldorf-Astoria for 20 minutes trying to strike up conversations with strangers and feel it time well spent.

Fortunately, there are a few out there who adhere to the “only talk when I have something to say” school of thought. As with weblogging, it will probably be a while before very much higher-quality content starts to emerge, but the promise of easily syndicated “radio shows” without the radio is too great for me to ignore.

We got back last night from a lovely trip to Port Aransas, Texas for Sandfest 2005. Sandfest is an annual fund raiser put on by the Port Aransas Community Theater in which professional and amateur sculptors come from around the country to create some amazing art from that most ephemeral of mediums, sand. We’ve gotten to be a part the last few years by dint of being friends with and nominal members of the San Marcos Suns, a local sculpting team which includes the members of The Grant Mazak Band.

This year Kathy, Emily and Abigail all joined in the building fun while Liam and Maggie and I pottered about building dams, flying kites, having mussel races, and playing in the surf. Later that evening, a variety of musicians got together for a little party. The best part for me was that we roped Meara into playing her violin with us for the first time. She did spectacularly well, especially given that we were throwing songs at her she hadn’t heard before. I’ve gotten her some recordings of some of our stuff now, so that only stands to get better!

You can see some photos from the trip here.

My friend Jason, a professional musician and woodworker and all around Really Interesting Guy, has a great post today, wherein he ruminates on self-employment, setting one’s own course, and the sacred duty to do the things we’ve been made to do well. As one who has dipped my toe into self-employment a few times, but always found the water a bit too chilly to jump in, it’s fascinating to see what things look like from that side of the fence.