It's still snowing here in the heart of Utah. This is the longest continuous if not sustained snowstorm we've had in years. It's gonna be fun watching this stuff come down the canyons in the spring and summer. Hopefully it behaves well on the way down.

I was greeted by a pile of variously folded scrap papers on my dresser when I got home yesterday. Tor had spent his day experimenting with paper airplanes and putting them in my room so I could try them.

For an old fart not used to being on anyone's mind for very long, it is amazing how much these little children think about me and what they think of me. I am their daddy, their friend, their mysterious liaison between the big confusing outside world and the safety and warmth that mom generates at home.

They are getting old enough to create their own culture at home, and it's interesting to watch. The oldest kids go to friend's houses every so often and import new artifacts and sayings, and the culture takes huge leaps of complexity in a day. Sometimes there is a particularly interesting or striking program on TV that ripples through the tribe and shows up in a new form the next morning. There are games made up where I become a major player even though I'm absent, and I hear about the action through an excited replay as I walk through the door.

Tor is funny. I appreciate his paper airplanes, and I hope I always warrant his attention and inventions. I'll work on feeling like I deserve them, too.