Tom got a wish card for his birthday; Lisa and Jack exchanged romantic letters. (photo Blanka)

All the boys climb. (photo Blanka)

Weather fouled up on the first November weekend, but we had not planned a trip anyway. Tom had invited his Czech buddies for Saturday climbing at the gym. We had invited everybody at once and then it was confusing; we halved our celebrations this year and thus we managed to belay all children, with the help of Hippo and other parents, and we did not have to rent a gym-provided belayer.

I was a bit worried whether there'd be too many people there during the weekend, but they apparently all sleep in on Saturday morning; by ten we were practically on our own. Except — a favorite children's nook was taken by some boy scout detail, but since they pretty much milled around on a single spot, we had the run of the rest of the hall — juniors could climb in the long easy section and also swing from the overhangs. Tom was enjoying friends probably more than the climbing itself. Lisa was ecstatic from having Jack nearby. When she found out in the morning that Jack was going to come after all (they originally had other plans, and changed them in the last minute), she ran and made some kind of letter (I guess you can call it romantic?), which probably was a good thing, for she received a large heart made from melted beads in return.

I was surprised by the oldest girls (third grade), who in the end competed with each other who's going to climb more and higher, and I'd say they busted a few records. Even some parents climbed (Martin and Bára), and I hope everybody had a good time. When the kids began to be restless and mischievous, which was kind of impractical as the gym filled up meanwhile, we made them leave for lunch.

Tom enjoys swinging the most. (photo Blanka)

Lisa was disappearing with Jack and his heart into a crack. (photo Blanka)

Petr and Noemi joined us (whom we did not take along to the gym as she is still too small), and there were total fifteen of us. The most interesting part of the lunch was how BEHAVED the children were. First they were all issued pens and drawing papers, then they ate and ate, and ate (the waiter could not keep up, bringing more of their favorite chicken satay). I admit that more than food I needed beer, for all the belaying and screaming at the kids made my throat dry up.

The children, originally pretty tired from climbing, go re-energized by the lunch, and we had to re-direct the whole expedition to Santa Clara to see model trains. Despite the girls' majority, even this unplanned part of our program ended up successful, not even Lisa would protest. With a pack, everything's more fun.

We went to Santa Cruz on Sunday, to get fresh air and walk on the beach. Perhaps we all needed it, as the children were apparently very happy, running and jumping. Then they began to build something from sand at the beach. First Tom placed a large, spiky rock in the surf and observed, when the water would tumble it over — later he experimented on covering it with sand and watching the surf take the coat away. I'll never stop being fascinated, how the children don't really need any sophisticated gadgets — they make do with whatever they can find in the nature on the spot.

On the next Saturday I had arranged a pony ride with Hollie for Lisa and Ryzls' girls. I left Tom at home with Hippo, and they went fishing and to the model train museum again, and we had a separate female and male schedule. I think everybody enjoyed it — as much our kids cope with each other pretty well, they sometimes get stir-crazy and they appreciate being for a while without their other sibling, and getting an undivided attention by one of the parents. Lisa was also happy to be with horses; since school had started, we did not get to ride.

A recipe for behaved children at a restaurant? Wear them out first, then make them busy. (photo Blanka)

Solving a technical problem? (photo Blanka)

Then Míša and I wanted to go for a lunch; I took the whole expedition to a Vietnamese restaurant at the freeway intersection. However when we, even after a noticeable time, did not get noticed by the server even to bring us water, we change the venue to a Thai place next door. By then all the girls were moaning about being hungry, and fortunately this new restaurant dealt with it promptly.

Since I got a new saddle for my bike and don't suffer so much any more, I have been relatively more inclined to go out biking. We decided to check out a bike path that leads through the down-town of our metropolis, San Jose. It stretches out to the Bay, but it's paved only up to the airport — with Hippo's road bike we can't go on gravel. An I really mean up to the AIRPORT, as the runway begin right past the road and a fence, and all the jets land right over your head. I was surprised how nicely the path weaves through the town, mostly following Guadalupe River and negotiating most intersection via underpasses.

Alas, the downtown itself is a dead spot — office buildings gape emptily on the weekends, bars and clubs are fast shut on Sunday noon. Of those approximately ten people that we had met, a good half were homeless. Fortunately, we had located an OPEN Vietnamese restaurant on the 'net and had a reliable destination. The place was great — a formica eatery with a quick service, with us being the only white people there. I was unsure how to cope with an order of another cup of tea, until Sid spotted a barrel in the corner, where the guests simply helped themselves. It was reminding me of a school cafeteria. Only the food was much better than I remember from my student years.

Lisa jumping merrily on the beach.

Kids find their own toys.

Vendulka's birthday falls on mid-November. Last year we had left the kids in granny's care and enjoyed an adult evening minus the offspring. Granny not being available this year, we arranged a room with Vendula for sleeping over, and arrived in full strength. When Bryce showed up at the party, our kids were in seventh heaven. I must say we practically did not hear from them; they closed the room's door and watched some movie. Only Bryce probably devoured too many snacks and cookies, and got sick by ten o'clock (the only participant of the party doing so). It was late after all, so Bryce and Rumiko went home and we could chase our kids into their sleeping bags.

The party continued successfully, especially since Martin sacrificed himself and brought another Fernet from our house. It came to a very cacophonic singing, Hippo's performance as Grandpa Frost, and even some dancing. We hit the feathers and hollow fibres sometimes near two o'clock. I thought I would just collapse and fade out, but it wasn't to be; Hippo had started his chain saw and kept it up the whole night. By four o'clock I gave up and moved to a carpet in front of the fireplace. A storm had come in the night and it was raining cats and dogs outside, and I got it all with the sound effects of a rain gutter that of course leads just behind the wall where my head was. I would have probably managed, but by six — for reasons unknown to me — Hippo, too, moved to the living room. With our mattress, and thus I could choose to stay in the room filled with his crazy snoring, or assume isolation behind the door with our children — but on a hardwood floor. I would not mind them being hard, but they were also very cold. When the kids woke up around seven, I ordered an uncompromising retreat home, to the vicinity of my own bed.

It surprised me how impossible I was for the rest of the Sunday — but I'm not the youngest any more and I don't tolerate lack of sleep. On the other hand — we have not had such a good party in long time; one needs to have good time occasionally, leaving the stereotype. I look forward to winter and the mountains — we'll be there in a similar company, spending many weekends together (if we get some snow, that is), thus increasing the probability of another party.