Showing posts with label rockets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rockets. Show all posts

Sunday, May 15, 2011

The project vacation

I started to find Estes catalogs and rocket magazines all around the living room. 

Old catalogs, new catalogs...


Old magazines, new magazines. 
Then rocket model kits started showing up in our work room.
Big models.

And suddenly, E's evenings were quietly spent working on these models. 


It doesn't take long for me to put 2 + 2 together.

Vacation time is coming up soon. Without a word expressed, I know vacation time will include launching rockets out in the country. 

Any smart rocketeer knows that rockets can get lost. You shoot one off - and it goes 'haywire' without a warning. One second your rocket is sitting on the launch pad, waiting for you to push the 'GO' button. The next instant, the rocket is sky high - and you never see it again. 

So you build spare rockets. Lots of rockets.
You build and build and build. 
You sand, you paint, you apply sealant.
You add decals. 

And if you are me, you go on the offense. 
I don't want to be left in the dust rocket exhaust. 
So I start building too. 

My contribution is a little Alpha III. It is simple. Plastic fins, no paint. Lots of decals. And it is very short. 
My Alpha III is the little orange rocket is on the right.
The masked rocket on the left is E.'s project, a missile.

Our goal? 
FUN. 
(I made this one... a Ticonderoga Pencil rocket!)

And isn't vacation all about FUN?

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

Really, Officer.. it wasn't us.


 We launched a rocket into the air.
If it landed, we know not where.

Then the Pentagon called, all upset.
And we can launch no more rockets, as of yet...

"Really, Mr. Secretary, it wasn't our dream
To make our rocket look like an invader's scheme."


So, if you see our rocket out in space,
Please, don't call us, call any Air Force Base.


Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Yesterday was an exciting day

Yesterday was an exciting day.

First, Juan Martin Del Potro won the US Open. A guy after my own heart (I wish!). Being Argentine raised, I love seeing my ‘hometown’ athletes win!

Del Potro is from the town of Tandil, in the humid pampas south of Buenos Aires. My dad took us to Tandil when I was about 10. What I remember most about the town was the Monte Calvario, reflecting the stations of the Cross and the crucifixion of Christ.

Anyway, way to go Juan! We were cheering for you.

My husband is on a road trip and currently is in Wisconsin. He grew up there. His best friend from school days, Alex, still lives there. Alex’s 15 year old son, Cole, recently suffered a severe stroke and is hospitalized at Children's Hospital of Wisconsin.

E. spent the a great deal of the day with Alex and Cole yesterday. He attended Cole’s physical and speech therapy drills. E. reports that Cole is still unable to speak, so he communicates with his right hand. 1 finger means ‘yes’. Two fingers mean ‘no’. The middle finger means ‘hi, dad!’.

Cole’s mom and younger brother have had to return to their home in central Wisconsin, so many days Cole is on his own with his rehab. The exciting part is that Cole recognized E. and waved hello! E. took him for a walk (ok, guided him in his wheelchair) around the hospital. The day was nice enough that they could go outside and buzz around.

Two years ago, E and I went back to Wisconsin
with several Estes Rockets in tow.


We built them during the summer with plans to launch them on Alex’s land, an old farm. There isn’t any place safe to launch rockets around our neighborhood, so we were both looking forward to a couple of evenings being 14 years old again with Alex and Cole. We loaded up our rockets (including one that Cole made), drove down the farm lane to a safe launch site, and set up.


We laughed and expressed “oohs” and “ahhs” at each launch.

E. would set up the launch, I would conduct the countdown and take photos, Cole would hit the launch button, and Alex would retrieve the rockets.



This is Cole launching the Big Bertha.


Occasionally we swapped roles. A few rockets were lost; one got hung up on a power line. And one’s parachute didn’t open until after the THUD of impact on the ground.



We had so much fun that we launched rockets a SECOND DAY!


On this trip, E. took a rocket kit back to Cole to build someday. He said Cole was excited about it. I don’t know how fast a 15 year old heals from a stroke – but you can bet we will be launching rockets and laughing all over again when Cole is ready.