Sewing together with A+ is helping me learn so much about making and re-making, and about saying yes.

I'm not good at saying yes. Sometimes it's because I have no idea how to make something happen, and I don't want to overcommit. Sometimes it's because I don't think something will be practical or worthwhile. Sometimes it's because I want to spend the time or money on other things instead. Sometimes I don't know how to make it something that she can help with. But A+ asks with shining eyes, and I'm learning, slowly, slowly, to say yes. I'm beginning to trust that the mistakes don't matter as much as the memories do.

A+ has always had ideas about what she wants to wear. At five, she was all about floor-length dresses. I sewed her A-line dresses in comfortable cotton Lycra, peasant-style dresses that matched my tops. I also made a knee-length swim skirt for her. She liked it and requested a floor-length version so that she could twirl and twirl and twirl at the splash pad. She wore it into the wading pool too, enjoying how it swirled around her, trapping air under the skirt and marvelling as it ballooned. The following year, she asked me to attach a bodice to it to make it a dress. I turned the knee-length skirt into the bodice for the floor-length dress, took out the stitches that had previously narrowed the then-too-large waist, and it was good for another year of twirling.

When she was 6 and in the throes of a Cinderella obsession (we read through 50+ variants of the story from the library), I made her a powder blue charmeuse ballgown with a full-circle skirt supported by the petticoats and tutus that she layered with abandon: 19 layers of tulle in total. She loved curtsying and twirling with that whole shebang at the pretend tea parties she hosted at the playground, and it survived the washing machine surprisingly well.

A+ is nine now and has long outgrown the ballgown, which has been stashed in the closet until I figure out if it's going to become a skirt for her or for me. But she still wears the A-line dresses from years ago, which now reach her knees instead of her ankles. She still likes fanciful clothes. I made a floor-length light blue dress so that she could wear it to her cousin's wedding. She picked out some ribbon for the waist, a lace trim to place near the hem, and some ribbon flowers as embellishments, and she asked me to sew a hooded cloak with a ribbon closure. After the wedding, I trimmed the dress to knee-length and re-sewed the lace close to the new hem so that she could wear it while biking to the playground.

Inevitably, she's beginning to grow up. Her fancy is tempered by a few nods to practicality:

• knee-length skirts because they don't get in the way of riding her bike
• she likes stretchy fabric more than woven fabric
• skorts are great for doing cartwheels or hanging upside down.

We prefer to buy fabric in person so that she can feel the fabric on her skin. At the store, A+ zeroed in on a sheer floral print organza that she had seen on a mannequin in the window display. "The organza doesn't have a border," she said. "We can make it a circle skort." She's learning to think about the characteristics of the fabric and what we can do with it. She matched the sheer floral organza fabric with a peach polyester-spandex from the swimwear section and the right colour of thread from the basement.

This will be the fourth warm-weather skirt this year. We make little tweaks each time, as she learns more about what she likes to wear. Here's the progression so far:

• For her first summer skirt this year, I made a lavender knee-length rectangle skirt with scallop-edged embroidered mesh over bridal satin, gathered at a 1:2 ratio. She liked the dressiness of it, but 1:2 turned out to not be enough ease for cartwheels, so she changes into something else when she wants to be more active.
• The second was a mermaid scale skort made from the swimwear fabric I ordered last year, based on one of the purchased skorts she liked. It'll be her new swim skirt.
• The third one was a purple skort. I changed it from side seams to a single back seam so that it's easier for A+ to tell the difference between front and back.

I love being able to change things based on her feedback. We've browsed nearby clothing stores and bought a few pieces, but she rarely finds things that she really likes. Her last pick from the store was a peach skort with a matching top. I removed the waist elastic from the top because she doesn't like elastics, and now it's good to go. It'll be the model for the new skort, I think: a non-stretchy skirt with a stretchy fabric used for the shorts. This time she wants a knee-length circle skirt instead of the mid-thigh length of the commercial skorts. Easy enough - just a matter of drawing a bigger circle.

I appreciate how all this experience re-making things makes it easier to say yes to A+'s ideas. For example, the hat I sewed for her last year is starting to feel a bit small. I cut pieces for a new bucket hat using the free AppleGreen Cottage pattern that I'd previously used to make two other hats for her and one for me. This time, I wanted to make the outer layer from the floral canvas left over from reupholstering long-gone dining room chairs and the inner layer from the linen tea toweling that we decided not to use in the kitchen. Midway through the process, A+ asked me if I could make the hat pointy instead, like a witch's hat. I put the brim pieces together, sketched out a quick quarter-circle, sewed the outer layer, and tested the fit on her head. Then I used the inner brim layer to cover up the seams, finished with some topstitching, and it was good to go. I figured that if she changed her mind and wanted a flat hat, I could easily make one from the scraps, or I could even modify this pointy hat to put a different crown on it.

Sewing is becoming more enjoyable and less stressful. I worry less about making mistakes because I've learned how to recover from many of them. Sometimes something's more of a loss, like that lavender floor-length cotton dress with a split organza overskirt that she wore a couple of times before it was declared too uncomfortable, or the scraps that she cuts up when trying to fashion a dress for her doll. That's fine, fabric is tuition for learning.

A+'s becoming more adept, too. She's no longer limited to standing still for measurements, fetching pieces of fabric, or other make-work I could think of to keep her busy while I sewed. Now she can get the sewing machine to wind the bobbin and she can thread the needle. She can sew straight seams and stop when the machine makes an unexpected sound. She can turn straps right side out and unpick seams when we make mistakes or change our minds. She knows it isn't just a matter of how a fabric looks, but also what it feels like and how it moves. She's gradually learning what she likes and what she doesn't like. And if I have the temerity to remind her how to do something ("Make a 'p' shape with the thread when you put it in the bobbin case"), I get a glimpse of the teenager she'll become ("I know how to do it, Mom.").

We're getting better at seeing the clothes as their component parts: patterns, fabric, pieces we can recombine. "Can you copy this, but without sleeves?" she asks, and I figure it out. Looking at the yardage left, I can start to think: ah, I can squeeze a matching training bra out of this part, and I think I have enough here to make a top, and this rectangle is large enough for a headband, and I can turn these scraps into flowers while I'm waiting for her at a playdate.

I'm learning from all her requests. By myself, I tend to settle into comfortable routines. In 2015, I made 18 tops based on the Colette Sorbetto woven tank top pattern, eventually taking advantage of Hacklab's laser cutter to precisely cut the fabric so that my notches lined up every time. When I find something I like, I make it again and again. A+'s still figuring out what she likes. We're learning so much.

Sewing for A+ is a time-limited opportunity, and I want to make the most of it. There are only so many clothes I can sew for her. Eventually she may want to wear the same things as everyone else, or eventually she might be comfortable doing all the sewing herself. Eventually she'll be off on her own life. Maybe the ballgowns will turn into skirts or camisoles, and from there into headbands or scrunchies.

Re-making echoes through our past. My mom tells me this story of how her mom sewed, and how their family was poor. My mom rarely got a new dress, so when her mom sewed a red dress for her, that was special. She wore it until the bodice couldn't fit any more. Her mom undid the seams, sewed a new bodice onto the skirt, and gave the dress back to her. She wore it until the skirt was all worn out. Her mom undid the seams and replaced the skirt. My mom said to her mom, "Does this mean I have a new dress now?" This was not the only dress my grandmother made for her. My mom also tells a story of how one time she hovered by her mom's sewing machine, impatiently waiting for her mom to finish sewing the dress that she was going to wear to a party that day. My grandmother must have also worked on re-making, on learning how to say yes. My mom didn't make clothes for me, but she passed on the stories.

All this reminds me a little of two picture books we borrowed from the library. My Forever Dress by Harriet Ziefurt and Liz Murphy (2009, video) shows how a grandmother extended and transformed a dress as her granddaughter grew. Something from Nothing by Phoebe Gilman (1992, video) retells the Yiddish folktale about Joseph's overcoat, this time with a special blanket that gets worn down and transformed into a jacket, a vest, a tie, a handkerchief, ending as a fabric-covered button. The button gets lost, but it turns into a story. Of the two, I liked Something from Nothing more. I liked the lighter touch it told the story with, and I liked the reminder that cherished things can be turned into stories.

A+ was in the kitchen, making a grocery list on an LCD writing tablet. She wanted to buy apple sauce, yogurt cups, and mac and cheese. She wanted to do it herself, with her own money. W- will walk her to the store, let her loose, and meet up with her in front of one of the aisles. "Mama, you can stay home," she said.

Challenge: She wanted her own bag for groceries. Her backpack was too small. I rummaged through the reusable bags hanging on the coat hooks. There's this cotton tote we got from an event, but the straps are too long. When she put it on her shoulder, it threatened to fall down. When she carried the bag by its straps, the bag dragged on the floor. I shortened one strap to see if she can hold it then. The body of the bag itself was too long. I sewed a seam across the bottom. Now it's the right height for her. I shortened the other strap and serged the bottom seam to make it neat. She wanted a pocket for her purse and the KN95 mask that she'll wear in the supermarket. W- was almost ready to head out. "Give me another five minutes and I can make her a pocketed bag," I said. He waited. I opened up the scrap from the bottom, sewed the edges together in the other direction, turned it into a pocket, and sewed it to the top hem of the bag. A+ pronounced it perfect. She tucked her purse, mask, and shopping list into the bag, looped the straps over her shoulder, snugged the bag under her elbow, and headed out into the world.

I still sweat my way through figuring out how to sew what she comes up with, but it's good for me. I make and re-make so she can have things that fit her ideas, and so that she can dream of more. She's learning that her ideas matter. It can take several tries, but we can make them happen together. Someday she'll make and re-make things all on her own.

This post was inspired by the June IndieWeb Carnival theme of Take Two.

This week A+ said she wanted to play a farming game, so we went through this list of farming games on Steam and she picked Stardew Valley. I bought it for CAD 17 under her Steam account. She got pretty good at finishing her homework before playtime. After some fiddling around, we managed to figure out how to play 3-person local co-op using our old PS3 controllers.¹

The first game we played used the basic farm layout and shared money. I realized that sharing all the money wasn't working out so well for me about two game weeks in because I was always reminding A+ to buy seeds before she splurged on gifts, so we started a new playthrough with separate money. A+ decided to pick the meadowlands farm layout, which meant starting with some chickens.

We now have a mayonnaise maker and four chickens. It's summer and I have a variety of crops growing. W- sometimes drops in to do some fishing or help out around the farm. We probably won't make it to the greenhouse bundle this year, but maybe next year. She'd been looking forward to getting a kitchen and trying out some of the recipes, so we saved up for it and worked together to chop down lots of trees.

Stardew Valley feels like a good rainy day activity with A+. It's a cozy place to practise making decisions and working together.

A+ can get competitive and envious, which can get in the way of her having fun. Sometimes she gets envious because I've been leveling up in farming and she hasn't yet. When that happens, she becomes more motivated to help out around the farm. Sometimes it's harder for her to channel that frustration into growth. At the trout derby, she got grumpier and grumpier. First it was because W- had caught a rainbow trout and she was only catching trash. Then, when she caught a rainbow trout, she was grumpy that W- had caught a rainbow trout with a golden tag and she hadn't gotten one with a tag. "I'm never going to catch anything," she grumbled, eventually spiraling into a lump on the couch. To her credit, she kept trying for a while instead of rage-quitting, so that's progress.

I chatted with her about it the next day, when she was well-regulated. "It doesn't have to be a competition, you know," I said.

"Of course it was a competition," she said matter-of-factly. "It was the trout derby."

Apparently this competitiveness and sensitivity is pretty common and totally not out of place for a 9-year-old, especially since she's an only child. Common approaches include:

• Stopping the game when whining starts, in the hopes that eventually the kid will learn to avoid whining: I'm not sure about this approach with A+ because I think she might benefit from some more help and support learning these skills.
• Team sports and a structured environment: This doesn't quite feel like a good fit for us, but I'm glad it works for other people.

• Switching to more cooperative activities: I couldn't redirect her from the trout derby because the time-limited event was too fascinating. We had to take the loss and try again another time. This, too, is a fish on the line; sometimes it escapes and there's nothing to do but to accept it and fish again.

  There's a lot we can learn together in the process of working on day-to-day things. I can put A+ in charge of most of the harvests, and she's getting better at minding the mayonnaise. I think A+ likes mining with me (I'm in charge of fighting monsters), and we can probably also chop some wood together. Maybe she'll enjoy collecting the eggs and petting the chickens now that there are more of them, especially since one of them is called Hei-hei. Then we can fish when we're in the mood for fishing, farm when we're in the mood for farming, and so on.

• Getting used to losses by playing lots of games: Fishing is good for this. It's easy to start trying again, and there are plenty of little rewards along the way. Once we can cook, we can use meals like chowder to boost her skill.

I love it when games gently help me notice ways I can grow as a person. I want to get better at focusing on processes, not outcomes.² It's neat to see this in contrast. At the moment, A+'s attention focuses a lot on outcomes. She thinks about things like upgrading to kitchen or getting to a certain level, but it's harder for her to focus on the steps that will get her there. I notice there's stuff for me to work on, too. I struggle a little with trying to make sure I have seed money if I let A+ take care of harvesting and selling (somewhat alleviated now that I've got chickens and corn), that I can get everything watered before bedtime, that I've kept some of the produce back for bundles or quests, or that I'm making progress towards a silo before winter. I can also practice focusing on processes, not outcomes.

I know my job isn't to maximize the farm's profit. Maybe my job for now is to water the farm so that A+ can enjoy the harvest. Doesn't that sound like some kind of parenting thing I can work on learning in my bones… I know grown-ups are better at delayed gratification than kids are. I'm better at the grind. If she can enjoy a bit of the harvest and figure out if she likes it, then we can back up a little. Maybe she can water a small part of the field, and then grow from there. Maybe I can make her a little 1x1 patch with the season's fastest-growing crop, and then expand every time she gets it all the way to harvest. Tiny habits, right?

Also thinking as a grown-up, I can stagger the planting of 4-day crops like wheat so that there's always something for her to harvest.

There are other little ways we can use game mechanics to practise life skills. We can occasionally check the traveling cart for quality sprinklers, which will give us a reason to keep track of the days and save some money for opportunities. It would be great to practice this with virtual money before she needs to deal with real money.

I can also invite A+ to go mining and then use the copper to upgrade the watering cans. It's a multi-step process (copper ore, wood, coal, copper bar, upgrade), so it makes sense that I can handle that better than she can. She can focus on one step at a time and slowly get the hang of how everything comes together, just like when she was learning how to solve the Rubik's cube. It's also like the incremental independence she's growing into in other parts of her life. My job is to support her so that she can learn at the right level: not too hard, not too easy.³ Someday, after many many runs through this kind of process, she might even get the hang of creating those sequences for herself or finding people who can help her. Small steps to lifelong learning.

And when I start to get fidgety about how we play, like when she doesn't accept any of my invitations to do something (chop wood? carry water?), I can repeat: process, not outcome. It's okay for her to stand around waiting for the shop to open while I water the farm. She's excited, she's focused on the very next step towards her goal, and that's good for where she is. It's okay for things to take a while. I want to keep the process fun. The fun is the important part.

Also, there's this whole thing about taking time to talk to people, remember what they like and dislike (… or look that up in the notes), give them gifts, celebrate their birthdays, and so on. Right. There are even clear benefits for doing so. Plenty of things to get better at. =)

Stardew Valley seems like it would be great for practising these things. The general advice from the community seems to be to take it easy and not rush. Don't worry about making it to certain milestones by certain times, just have fun together. We've been playing for only a few days, but I have a feeling there's much to learn over the next few years.

W- has been volunteering for Bike Brigade for a number of months now. A+ and I occasionally tag along. It's encouraging to be part of this initiative to deliver groceries and other essentials to people who need help. One of the organizers spoke at this panel discussion about bicycles and social justice organized by York University.

Session description

Bicycles hold immense potential for addressing today’s pressing social and climate justice challenges. However, coordinating and sustaining grassroots cycling movements remains difficult, especially as global development aid for climate action and broader humanitarian work rapidly declines. Indeed, we are living in a moment of profound global injustice, where imperialism, colonial violence, and systemic oppression dictate whose struggles and resistances are recognized. In this context, grassroots organizing and local self-determination have become more pressing than ever. This webinar explores how bicycling serves as a tool for justice, sustainability, and collective resistance. Indeed, we see bicycling/mobility justice in responding to uncertain global contexts, including a rise in right-wing fascist governments, climate change and its unequal effects on vulnerable communities, and an escalation on anti-immigrant policies and sentiments. Those most affected – racialized, Indigenous, low-income, and gender-diverse communities – are leading powerful mobility justice movements. They are reclaiming space, resisting exclusion, and challenging systemic inequalities through cycling activism. Speakers will share insights from different regions, highlighting how bicycles are more than transportation – they are a means of survival, self-determination, and community care. This conversation will thus bring together activists, researchers, and practitioners striving to make transportation more accessible and equitable.

Panelists:

• Dr. Deepti Adlakha (Associate Professor, Delft University of Technology)
• Sabat Ismail (urban planner, multi-disciplinary artist, and writer)
• Cyprine Odada (urban planner, cycling advocate, Founder of Women Shaping Cities)
• Rachel Wang (Founding Executive Director, The Bike Brigade – Toronto; environmental practitioner and community organizer)

Here are the notes I took:

Text and links from sketch

Creating sustainable futures in unsustainable times: Bicycles, justice, & resistance

• Sabat Ismail: urban planner
  • Mid to late 2010s: books on cycling, inequality, gentrification
  • Couriers in Toronto, Albert Koehl (2024)
  • Food delivery couriers - Do Lee
  • Migrant farm workers
  • Girls on Bikes
  • Gaza Sunbirds
  • Gaps in conversation, data: race, gender (incl. trans/queer) - not just commuters
  • Disability access: CultureLink, Trailblazers
  • Bike hubs
  • Equity lens
• Cyprine Odada: urban planner, Critical Mass Nairobi
  • The goal is to get people back on bicycles.
  • I started noticing inequalities.
  • We needed to diversify our cycling experiences.
  • Nairobi bike train: Commute to work
  • Children: Bigger impact than main ride
  • Kenya Cycling Women
  • Need for Speed
  • Cycling marketplace
  • CSR
  • New:
    • ride buddy
    • city bike tours
  • Access: pairing, tandems, training
  • Teen mobility & pregnancy in rural
  • Equity: give voice to marginalized, package for the city
• Deepti Adlakha: assoc. professor, Delft University of Technology
  • Extreme heat & lack of shade
  • Active transport… has to be built into city priorities.
  • 8 Ds: local urban design principles
  • healthysustainablecities.org
  • societies, environment, people, systems
  • Score cards
  • commuting vs. trip chaining
  • connecting the dots, looking at mobility through a justice lens
  • Academic institutions can take a bigger role: research, data, evidence
  • Building accessibility into infrastructure (ex: storage)
  • Rural: Linking to transport
  • Equity: Require assessment, weighted scoring
• Rachel Wang: founding exec. director, Bike Brigade
  • Before pandemic: 1 in 5 households were food insecure; many >1km from food
  • Food banks shifted to home delivery (no gathering in lines)
  • 40+ mutual aid groups
  • Beautiful stories of how people get involved: starting w/ deliveries, becoming community organizers
  • Equity: Allies are important - strategic messengers
• Lyndsay Hayhurst, Jess Nachman
  • Bicycles are powerful tools for justice.

https://sachachua.com/2025-05-21-03

Feel free to share or remix this under the Creative Commons Attribution License.

I like that so many people are thinking about this from different perspectives around the world: from the ground up with the experiences of people who are out there, to groups like Critical Mass Nairobi and Bike Brigade where people can work together to make things better, to academics and urban planners who can think about how systems are designed.

We probably lean more towards the very small scale end of things, for now: whatever little deliveries we can squeeze into our schedule. A+ is particularly proud of putting things in her own basket and also hauling a full bag of groceries once we get to the recipient's building. Who knows, maybe we'll find ourselves moving along that pipeline from volunteer grocery deliveries to community organizing…

Anyway, I don't know if a recording will get posted, but if I come across one, I'll update this.

I wrote a web-based time tracker back in late 2011 because I was curious about how I was actually using my time. I'd already started planning my 5-year experiment with semi-retirement. I knew that time-tracking was going to be useful for that, especially since I figured consulting was going to be part of it. I had been tracking my time with Tap Log for Android, but writing my own system allowed me to fit it to the way I wanted it to work. 2012 was my first full year of data with it. My time data includes a little bit of my work at IBM, all of my experiment with semi-retirement, and my time as a parent. Time-tracking was something that a number of people in the Quantified Self community were also exploring, so I had fun bouncing ideas and visualizations off other people. At some point, I nudged my categories a little closer to the time use studies I read. (Ooh, I should revisit these…)

I use a hierarchy of categories. Each time segment can have only one category, even if I might combine something like childcare and biking. The hierarchy lets me report at the high level while also letting me break things down further. I can add a note to a segment in order to capture even more detail, like the way that clocking in from my Org Mode tasks automatically fills in the time tracker's note with the task name. It takes me just a few taps to record my data most of the time. If I need to backdate something, I can use a couple more taps to select common time offsets (say, around 5 minutes ago). I can also type in some text to select an uncommon category or specify a different offset.

The data isn't 100% perfect, of course. Sometimes I created an entry a few minutes late or guessed when something started. Sometimes I forgot to track when I went to sleep or when I woke up. Despite the occasionally messy data, it gives me a pretty good idea of the rough categories of my day.

For the time graphs below, each column is one day, starting at midnight. All times are displayed in the America/Toronto time zone, with the occasional indent or outdent because of daylight savings time. Legend:

pink	A+ (childcare)
yellow	Business - Connect
red	Business / Work
green	Discretionary - Play
blue	Discretionary - Productive
dark blue	Discretionary - Productive - Emacs
yellow	Discretionary - Social
purple	Personal
gray	Sleep
orange	Unpaid work

If you click on the graph images, you should be able to get the SVG for each year, which will let you hover over segments for more details in the tooltips. Each SVG is about 1-4 MB, so I didn't want to include them all inline.

Here are some overall graphs of each year, as a sample weekday, and some notes on what was going on in my life then.

Text and links from sketch

A typical weekday

family time: 11/16 hours, me time: 5/16 hours

• 7 AM: Morning routines
• 8 AM: piano practice
• 9 AM: gardening, recess
• 10 AM: Walk, braindump
• 11 AM: Lunch
• 12 PM: focus time: code, write, draw, read, do stuff
• 1 PM: tidying, recess
• 2 PM: writing, hanging out with A+
• 3 PM: hang out with A+
• 4 PM: sometimes a play date
• 5 PM: dinner with W- & A+
• 6 PM: chores, evening routine
• 7 PM: hang out with W- and A+: Minecraft; watching; Pictionary, other games
• 8 PM: hang out with W- and A+
• 9 PM: A+'s bedtime routine
• 10 PM: call my mom, read

Context: A+ is 9 and in virtual grade 3. W- is retired.

https://sachachua.com/2025-04-10-01

Feel free to use this under the Creative Commons Attribution License.

I came across Hourly Comic Day¹ in anhvn's weeknotes. I've been meaning to make some kind of timeline, even if it doesn't feel as insightful or humorous as other people's comics. That's a skill, I can develop it. Besides, capturing bits and pieces of my life now is likely to be something I'm glad for later on.

Some things I notice:

I'm A+'s default parent, so she comes to me for snuggles during recess and lunch, and she wants to spend time with me when she's bored. She's 9, as I keep reminding myself, so this is a time-limited offer. It's amazing. At the moment, she often chooses to hug me instead of read books or play Minecraft, or chooses to play Minecraft with me instead of by herself. Inevitably, the day will come when she'll switch to just grunting at me from time to time and then disappear into her room for hours on end. This is the time to snuggle and hang out.

I have maybe an hour of reliable focus time right after lunch. I could have more, but I like setting aside some time for playing the piano and for walking.

Playing the piano is an exercise in humility. I can't quite get my fingers to do what I want them to do, and my brain picks up phrases more slowly than I'd like.² But it's also enjoyable to hear myself learn, so I continue.

Walking is good for me. It's important to keep moving. Biking gets me farther, but I have to pay more attention. Walking helps me have extra thinking time. I take a lapel mic along so that I can use the time to talk to myself. I notice I'm not the only one talking to myself in the park. I also like how I see other people out there with books, or with cameras, or with their lunches, or simply sitting on a bench and enjoying the sun. It's reassuring to see other people enjoying a slower pace.

I usually run out of thoughts to think before I run out of trails to walk. It's interesting. Sometimes I wonder how I might tinker with that. I have plenty of source material to think about from books and life experiences, but maybe I can dig into things further. Or maybe lowering the threshold with stream-of-consciousness dictation will help me bring more of my monkey mind out into the light. It's also okay to enjoy the quiet. Running into the limits of my thoughts makes it easier to use my computer time for tasks or coding instead of staring at a blank text file. When I do find myself drawn to a topic, then the braindumping gives me a head start on figuring out the parts of it that I care about.

I'm here because I choose to be. I could theoretically have a two-hour chunk in the evenings if I really wanted to, but then A+ tends to just watch videos. Sometimes if she's in a video-watching mood, I'll squeeze in some writing or some code, but it's not reliable and she might stop at any time, so I don't like to get into anything too deep.

I haven't been doing much consulting lately, since that's hard to do in small bursts. There are a couple of front-end Javascript requests on my list, but it's a little challenging for me to get into front-end tinkering because I have to load a fair bit of context into my brain when I'm trying to work around the vendor's way of doing things. I'll probably let them know I can't get around to those requests for now. Maybe someday.

I miss being in flow,³ but since that can often result in my experience A+'s desires for connection as an interruption (the Ovsiankina effect⁴ doesn't help), that's not a good fit for right now. Instead, I'll accept that this is the time for (mostly) fragmentary chaos, but I can still occasionally squeeze in 15 minutes here and there.⁵ The lack of focused time used to make me a little frustrated and antsy, but I think it's becoming a little easier as A+ becomes more independent. I can both see the light at the end of the tunnel and know that our paths will diverge.

I could have oodles of focused time during the day if A+ were to go to in-person school, but fortunately, I know from my experiment with semi-retirement that I probably won't actually end up writing a book or changing the world even if I have more focused time. Virtual school continues to be a reasonable fit for us.

Since I know I've only got about an hour of focused time a day, I can try to choose things carefully. It's surprisingly freeing, knowing that I'm not going to get to everything.⁶ I tend to:

• Code little things for myself, because it's fun and it can make things marginally easier. I like tinkering with Emacs, although sometimes I also write Javascript or Python to automate things.
• Writing and drawing, because then I can understand and remember things a little better
• Working on important tasks, like doing our taxes

And then the odds and ends of time can be used for:

• More writing: usually on my laptop, but sometimes on my phone too. It helps to keep my laptop on the main floor instead of leaving it upstairs.
• Reading books and blog posts, especially when I can highlight and capture snippets. The iPad has come in handy for this.
• Coding, but only things that I can put down easily
• Tidying: always good to stay on top of things

E-mail tends to fall to the bottom of my list, especially e-mails that require thought and consideration. Even reviewing my inbox tends to be lower-priority, unless there's something I remember and want to work on.

So this is my life at the moment. This is already a big step up from before. Since A+ handles virtual school a little more independently now, I can mostly count on a bit of focused time, instead of living my days in interruption limbo.

It's pretty easy-going. It feels a little like we're making this breakwater around a bay, so that A+ can learn the ropes in a reasonably calm environment instead of being buffeted around by the stormy waves outside, and then she can sail out when she's ready. As lives go, this is all right.

Seasons come and seasons go. I'm glad my day gets to look like this. Even if it might seem pretty humdrum, I want to remember it, because there'll be a time when I'll miss us.

We have two cases of mangoes on our kitchen counter: the last case of Ataulfo mangoes W- could find at the Nations supermarket a short bike-ride away from the house (slightly underripe at purchase; it's been a few days, so now A+ says they're perfect), and a case of Tommy Atkins mangoes that are greener and tougher. He had meant to buy Hadens, but accidentally picked the Tommys up instead. That's okay, I said. I can turn them into mango shakes.

Wikipedia describes the Tommys as:

Although generally not considered to be the best in terms of sweetness and flavor, it is valued for its very long shelf life and tolerance of handling and transportation with little or no bruising or degradation.

Thomas Atkins submitted the fruit to the variety committee of the Florida Mango Forum multiple times during the 1950s, which rejected it due to its unremarkable eating qualities and considerable fiber in the flesh.

A+ has definitely developed mango preferences. Like me, she likes the smooth, sweet creaminess of Ataulfo and other Philippine-type mangoes. She's the one who regularly checks the mangoes for ripeness and reports on their status, letting us know as soon as they're soft. After a good meal, she often prepares a mango for herself, using a paring knife to skim it close to the seed. Sometimes she cuts a criss-cross grid and flips it into a turtle, or scoops out the insides for chopstick practice. She's gotten much better at getting most of the mango out; there's usually very little for me to scrape off the rest of the skins. Without prompting, she remembers to wash her hands before and after. One evening, watching her deftly cut her mango, I said, "People pay good money to send kids to cooking classes so they can pick up knife skills. Could buy a lot of mangoes for that money." We had fun joking about the short-term and long-term benefits.

I grew up eating mangoes in the Philippines. Sometimes they were on the breakfast table. Sometimes I had them at merienda (afternoon snack). Mangoes were either yellow, kidney-shaped, soft, and sweet, or the tart green mangoes that were also delicious in a different way, either straight-up or with salt or with bagoong (fermented fish or shrimp paste). (It took me a while to appreciate bagoong, but eventually I got the hang of it.) Green mango shakes were also a treat.

After I moved to Canada in 2005, I went a long time without regularly buying mangoes. Still mentally converting costs to Philippine pesos, I balked at the expense of individual mangoes. The supermarket rarely sold good-looking Ataulfo mangoes, mostly just other mango cultivars that were more fibrous. If they did have the yellow kidney-shaped mangoes of my memory, the ones sold individually tended to be wrinkly and sad. A case of mangoes felt like overkill for just me, and I never quite got around to seeing if any of my friends wanted to, I don't know, rotate mango buying.

I think we only started buying cases of mangoes last year or the year before that. Now we're more comfortable knowing that even if we buy cases one after the other, we'll eat them before they go bad. We'll never say, "I'm all mangoed out." (And if we ever do get to that point, I can just dehydrate whichever mangoes are left.) It is definitely a frill and we're lucky to be able to enjoy them.

When it's warm enough for the kids to complain of the heat, we tend to ramp up our mango consumption even more. For the past two years, I've been bringing a cooler of frozen treats to A+'s park playdates. It started as a way to fend off temptation from the ice cream trucks that like to prowl around parks, and as a reaction to the ridiculousness of retail/wholesale pricing when it comes to summer refreshments. My days in A+'s sphere of friends are numbered, so I may as well make the most of it. It's a splurge, but time-limited. She will probably not invite me to lurk in the background with a cooler of popsicles when she's 18 years old. So yes to all the things, for now: home-made mango freezies; strawberries and peaches from the farmers market when they're in season; freezies made from pick-your-own strawberries when we make it out to a farm. (Child labour!) Raspberry freezies are sometimes too intense or too seedy for the kids. A+ is not a fan of cantaloupe freezies, but I like them. For the watermelon freezes, we're a bit divided. I like to add a little bit of sugar to the watermelon if it seems like it needs it. A+ takes pride in not adding any sugar to home-made freezies, so whenever she wants to be in charge of making them (which is almost always), I let her go with whatever she wants. She likes to use the mini-watermelons and add a splash of lemon juice. It always tastes refreshing.

Sometimes we bring Chapman's ice lollies (the kids prefer the single-flavour ones) or other store-bought treats. Sometimes A+ proudly insists on paying for these herself; early experiences of prosocial spending, hooray! When the fruits are in season, I prefer to make home-made freezies. We don't follow any recipes. We just prepare the fruits and put them into the blender.

I use disposable popsicle bags from AliExpress since I haven't found a local source I like, and have determined that:

• Zipper seals are nice for filling, but difficult to open. The best bags have a little notch for tearing under the seal, but this is hard to see in product photos. I often bring scissors if the bags don't have notches.
• 22cm x 5cm: just right
• 28cm x 5.5cm: too much

We have a couple of reusable freezie molds that we sometimes use. I save those for A+ and me because I know they'll find their way back to the cooler.

I used to walk to the playdates with A+ in a stroller (she still fits in the Thule Chariot Cheetah XT, even at 9 years old), with the cooler balanced on top of it. It took me 45 minutes to an hour to walk to her usual park playdates, but the freezies were fine if I packed the cooler with lots of ice packs. With the cargo bike, I can get to the playdates in 15 minutes or so, which means there's plenty of time for A+ to play and get warm before she decides it's time for a freezie break, and the freezies are all still nicely cold.

A+'s favourite friends get first dibs by virtue of proximity when she decides it's popsicle time (after A+, of course, who gets first pick). It feels quite satisfying when A+'s friends sidle up and ask very politely if there happen to be any more of those mango popsicles. Then we extend the selection to everyone else in the playgroup, and then, when everyone's sorted out, the occasional brave soul who wanders up to the strange woman handing frozen treats out to kids. I try to make eye contact with their grown-up first to check if it's okay. Sometimes when I'm distracted, I ask the new kids if their grown-up is okay with it, but I get the feeling that their quick nod might not be entirely reliable as it tends to be done with their eyes fixed on the prize. Gotta find their actual grown-up. I know A+ likes to go back for seconds or thirds on really hot days, so sometimes I keep a special stash for her in a nylon drawstring bag in the cooler. Sometimes I have one too.

I'm Filipino. Part of my love language is food. Taste can anchor memories, and I hope these are part of her core experiences of childhood. I want these to be part of my memories of her. That's worth the mangoes.

Feel free to use this under the Creative Commons Attribution License.

Text from sketch

Feline feelings sachachua.com/2025-03-26-01

• happy
  • playful
  • content
  • interested
  • proud
  • accepted
  • powerful
  • peaceful
  • trusting
  • optimistic
• surprised
  • startled
  • confused
  • amazed
  • excited
• bad
  • tired
  • busy
  • stressed
  • bored
• fearful
  • scared
  • anxious
  • weak
  • rejected
  • insecure
  • threatened
• angry
  • let down
  • humiliated
  • bitter
  • mad
  • aggressive
  • frustrated
  • distant
  • critical
• disgusted
  • disapproving
  • disappointed
  • awful
  • repelled
• sad
  • lonely
  • vulnerable
  • despair
  • guilty
  • depressed
  • hurt

Feelings wheel by Geoffrey Roberts

I want to draw more expressively, and experimenting with distinguishing between emotions seems like a good start. I followed up on our idea of drawing cats after Stick figure out feelings. It was a lot of fun drawing various kitties based on Geoffrey Roberts' emotion wheel. It turns out I'm still sometimes iffy on what a cat looks like in different poses, but maybe enough of the cat-ness has come through in these little doodles. =)

Related posts:

• Stick figure out feelings
• Drawing update
• Lion cut
• category - cat

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• https://www.artstation.com/artwork/w8bVVO