Thursday, August 30, 2007

first day on the job

Tomorrow is my first day on the job. My first real day you see. It should be quite the first day, H will be back at work, and I will be all alone in double-monkey-ville.

I'm a bit scared.

Last time the venture into the unknown involved one crying mouth. We managed. The elder monkey is healthy and seemingly well adjusted and I'm working on three and a half years experience on the resumé. But now the job description involves two mouths. Screeching and squeeling in stereo is the norm from here on out (it is uncanny how much the elder can imitate the new guy.) My workplace now contains a few more decibels as well as more demands. I have visions of young monkey taking a bottle easily, napping three times, and only having one nice clean load a day. Yeah, visions. Based in a reality, some reality, that contains what we are aiming for. Speaking of aim, hopefully I'll only be peed on every other week.

Luckily, (and due to some careful planning and negotiating) two weeks ago I ventured into the Sierras to fill my brain with visions from two miles up. Visions and memories to fill my mind as I wonder where my sanity went during my "training" period at the new job.

My mind will certainly drift toward this scene. Standing on a granite slope near the shore of Hungry Packer lake, staring at all the fish that wouldn't come anywhere near my lures. Well, they came near and even took a wee nibble, but nothing was landed. Oh well, it was the middle of the day, breezy, and I really wasn't that hungry anyway. We hiked on, traversing over to Moonlight lake to catch a few brookies near the outlet stream. They were all around eight or nine inches, but hit the lure with speed. Poor little brookies. They are tasty.

We caught a few rainbows and rainbow/golden hybrids. The latter tended to be a bit bigger and just a touch lighter in flesh. All them fishies fried up nice though. Tito liked their eyes, cheeks and brains. Skin too. He said the cheeks were incredibly sweet. When he eats fish, he eats pretty much the whole fish. In the mountains, Tito fuctions at a level of conservation and recycling that I like to think I am achieving while out backpacking, but really don't come near. Maybe next time, I'll try the cheeks, and I think I can handle some skin. But damn, I am no where near eyes or brains.


The next day we wandered up to Babboon lakes. They looked a tad milky. With a slight amount of glacially derived "flour" in them, they appear more turquoise than other lakes in the vicinity. They contained tons of teeny little fish. Easy to catch, oh boy. You would find it hard to go hungry here. We roamed the four main lakes and fished the streams and ponds between. Tito bagged the two best rainbows of the day for dinner later. After a few hours and well near a dozen fish landed (at least 30 between three rods) we made our way back downhill to camp. It would be another fish fry night.

Lemons may be heavy to pack in, but the reward is devine. A pinch of salt and some butter (also heavy, but come on you NEED butter) plus some heat under the pan and trout bliss was ours. A taste of Maker's Mark or two afterward and we were set to lay back on the granite and enjoy a few shooting stars. We were treated to some spectacular ones, including one extra wide and seemingly near, streaking at least halfway across the sky. Nearing the end of its burn, it broke apart resulting in two separate pieces tumbling together for the briefest bit. Cool. The sky was filled with stars. Just filled. Satellites were easily picked out and the Milky Way was a big milky mess. The granite profiles stood out as angular voids against the speckled universe. The mountains are indeed as beautiful in full sun as they are in absolute dark. Visions.

So, I'll be trying to think of these things. My granite and fish mantras of the Sierras. They will come in handy as things to focus on and visualize. Something to remind me that while I'm mired in pee and the screeming and the general chaos of a three month old and nearing four year old while not being the parent with breasts, that I............wait, what was that? where was I?......Uh, oh crap did the day start already? Am I out of time?

Wait.......ok there's that train. Visions. I'll have Sierra filled visions in my mind to sustain me through the tough parts of the day. Visions of mountains. Big, bold, starry, teeny little fish filled mountains. I'll need all the help I can get, because the younger monkey is looking like trouble so far.......

I mean, check out who he hangs with: cool dog and g-raffe. And what about that seahorse on the knit cap. Talk about intimidating. If ever there is a creature that just exudes power and attitude it's a seahorse. Guess I'll have to take it easy with this fella till I'm through the first few weeks on the job and the house has an established routine. Or else I'll be gettin' NOSHT. Or in the local hood speak, fall prey to a North Oakland Sea Horse Thug.

Thank goodness our local union provides for a three day weekend after the first day on the job.......I'll need it to recover and gain strength for the rest of week one.

It's gonna be a long September.



K & S said...

what a beautiful adventure you were on! shooting stars, fresh fish with butter! good luck on your new job, I'm sure you'll do just fine :)

Chilebrown said...

It is a good thing the Bears did not want to try your Jerky. They were probably to busy getting Picnic Baskets. Hey BooBoo!

cookiecrumb said...

Don't be nervous, MW. You are already a good daddy.

Kamarulzaman Suief said...


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Note: You can delete this comment.

Rev. Biggles said...


You're It. Feh, babies are easy. It's a Ron Popiel situation, just set it and forget it. It's when they begin to walk, hooboy. Cause brother, they never walk in the same direction.

Plus your spidey senses are probably pretty darned sharp. Mines have lost their edge. Used to be that I could smell trouble in 3 heartbeats (it gets quiet, too quiet). For example, Tiny E was an monkey (a tool using animal) early on. I had to put "child safety locks" on things, right? Well, before he was 13 months he'd figured out that a screwdriver was made specifically for opening such locks, snap! The only way I could keep him out of that cabinet was to actually screw it shut with drywall screws. No really. Everytime I needed a cleaner I had to unscrew the cabinet. Good times.


Monkey Wrangler said...

Kat: Thanks for the assurance. I'll need it. I've used some already......

Chile: If I were a bear, I would've been able to smell this stuff from at least 12 miles. Damn it was good.

Cookie: Awww, that is so sweet. Thank you.

Uh, whoever Mr/Ms Suief is......the answer would be no. Please leave the corporate wanderings out of my blog.

Biggles: Damn dude. That's one crafty monkey and getting to know you I'd say those genes came from your side. Thanks for the perspective.

Must rest, this is the first blogging bit I've done since the job started, and I really should go get supine.....

HipWriterMama said...

Wahoo! All I can say is keep scissors, glue, play doh, glitter, and any other arts and crafts items away from elder monkey if you're occupied with little one for any period of time.

Nothing like a little competition for daddy time that will get an older child's fixated on a clever, attention getting solution. I'm just saying.

Enjoy every moment. It's hard...but so, so worth it.