adults with autism
A grown-ass man
Sam came home today after spending three days in Fort Worth. He has competed every year at the Chisholm Challenge, a series of horse shows for riders with disabilities. It’s part of the events that lead up to the annual Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo.
Sam added another silver belt buckle to his collection, but that wasn’t the big accomplishment this year.
This was the first year, since 2003, that no one in the family was able to go with him to Chisholm Challenge. (So, dear readers, there is no video to share of the many events he rode, both English and Western, including several competitions hosted the first day by the American Quarter Horse Association.)
He’s been going to other horse shows this year as part of his preparations. I’ve been able to get to a few of them. But more often than not, he’d get up early on a Saturday or Sunday morning and drive himself to a nearby arena and compete for the day.
This was also the first year he drove himself to Fort Worth and back. And the first time he traveled to stay in a hotel where he wasn’t with family.
There were always plenty of longtime friends around looking out for him, so I knew not to worry. Some of the good people at Born2Be, where he rides, have known Sam since he was in elementary school. At this point, I think they know, too, how important it is that Sam be his own grown-up self.
I wasn’t there because I was I traipsing around Austin, on assignment to cover the first day of the Texas Legislature. I was doing a whole lot of things I’d never done before, or hadn’t done in a few years. I kept thinking about Sam being in Fort Worth at the same time, also doing a whole lot of things he’d never done before. I became keenly aware each time I was problem-solving. (Am I facing north or south? How do I get to that building? Where’s the elevator? Where’s the bathroom? Where can I plug in the charger for my laptop? Why isn’t the wi-fi working? If I sit here, will I be able to see? Should I leave now, or do I have time to chase that down? Do I have enough gas to get out of Austin before the traffic gets bad? Oh, gosh, I am so hungry.)
It was a lot of problem-solving. That’s what we expect adults to do. Just drop yourself in the middle of something and start solving all the problems. Adults with autism don’t do that very well. They get overwhelmed. People around them step in a lot and help them solve the problems.
Still, kids with autism are no different than other kids: to grow up strong and resilient, they have to learn to solve their problems.
The newsroom I work in has short cubbies. It fosters teamwork, but it also means co-workers often can hear your half of your telephone conversations. One time, a former co-worker was in a testy, problem-solving conversation with his mother, who, as a civil rights activist, is no wallflower. It was hard not to take note when he told her, “I’m a grown-ass man.”
I keep that little descriptor in my head. I know Sam will probably never say it to me, but I want him to believe it about himself, more and more each day.
Yes, he can. He’s a grown-ass man.
Making of a recipe (Raspberry Scones)
When I stop to think how far Sam has come, not just since he was a child, but even his first few semesters of college, I am awed. During these past 10 years of adult life, he’s met tough challenges head on and showed that he can think on his feet. He does so well that I sometimes forget the creative problem-solving skills that flow so easily through the rest of the family aren’t really at his command.
Enter the raspberry scone challenge.
Sam really likes raspberries. Sam is also the family scone and kolache baker. We tried to adapt a peach scone recipe from one of our favorite baking cookbooks, The Pastry Queen. The raspberry scones were a mess. (But we still ate them.)
I had a flash. There was another recipe in the King Arthur Whole Grain Baking cookbook that had a cinnamon-stuffed scone. I told Sam we could mash the two recipes together to help our idea turn out.
It worked, but I made the mistake of not communicating out loud and in advance which steps would come from which recipe. Sam retreated to the laundry room several times during the creation of these beauties to talk himself out of being upset with me (which I appreciate).
I don’t have the explanatory gifts of Julia Child, nor the exacting thoroughness of Coach In the Kitchen.
But as you can see, they turned out great. And Sam is happy to share his recipe.
Raspberry scone
Raspberry scones
Equipment: a 9-inch springform pan
6 cups flour
1 1/4 cups sugar
1/4 cup baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 1/2 cups cold unsalted butter, cut into bits
2 cups buttermilk
3/4 cup raspberry jam
1 cup frozen raspberries
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Grease the pan. Stir flour, sugar, powder and salt together. Cut in butter until mixture is crumbly. Fold in buttermilk and stir lightly until it forms a ball. Pat down and fold over once. Divide the ball in half and pat into two discs that fit the pan. Put one dough disc on the bottom, spread with jam and top with berries. Top with the other disc of dough. Cut into 16 wedges. Bake for 40 minutes until knife inserted in center comes out clean. You can brush with milk and sprinkle sugar, if you’d like. Let cool for ten minutes before releasing the side of the pan. Serve warm.
Riding Western
Sam competed for the first time in Western style horseback riding at the North Central Texas College stock show last weekend in Gainesville. He competes with “able-bodied” riders from time to time to challenge himself. This was great practice for next weekend. The regional equestrian Special Olympics are being hosted by the stables where he rides, Born 2 Be, in Aubrey.
His coaches have been encouraging Sam to ride Western for a while. Sometimes it takes Sam a little bit to warm up to an idea. He put jeans on for the first time in about 20 years when he tried on a new pair of Wranglers at Weldon’s Saddle Shop last week. (Like his great-grandfather, whom he was named for, Sam’s a khakis man.) Kippie helped him look good, although it’s a mystery where those most excellent chaps came from. Sam says they were, like lots of gear, donated to the stables.
Enjoy.
Smart thermostats anywhere
By Sam Wolfe, Guest Blogger
According to the recently published news story, “Smart thermostats remember for you,” a thermostat that is “just about as smart but doesn’t connect to the Internet” was installed in the back side of this home. (We live in northwestern Denton.)
Only one wire was available to power the thermostat. According to HVAC technician Bill Clark, the thermostat pictured in this story needs two wires to operate, a hot wire and a common wire, as do all other smart thermostats you can buy.
Research shows that the common wire is not available in some applications with a non-heat pump system. This requires battery power to a digital thermostat. Only a conventional thermostat or a programmable thermostat (one that is “just about as smart but doesn’t connect to the Internet”) could be used in these applications … until now.
With a Venstar Add-a-Wire accessory box and diode, you can simply “turn one wire into two.” For more information about this accessory, follow this link:
thermostat in back of house
accessory box installed in furnace
close-up view of accessory box
Note from Peggy: Sam was terribly disappointed after we were able to install an internet-ready thermostat in my house, but not his apartment. (For want of that wire. I wasn’t going to pay to lay more wire in the attic.) He went in search of a solution to that problem and found the add-a-wire device. After I asked him to make sure it was UL-listed, he ordered it, and then installed both the add-a-wire and the internet-ready thermostat in his apartment (which is in the back of the house) himself. He took the photos of his handiwork so you can see what he did.
More fun with Arduino
I asked Sam if these little Arduino computer-building projects he does once a month at North Branch Library was just building, or coding, too.
He says he has to edit code to get the devices to do what he wants them to do.
Here are two more short videos of the results of the build. A timepiece and a pinwheel (but you tell me if it doesn’t make you think of a jumping bean.)
Reflections on nine years and three days
Saturday we took care of errands ending up at the grocery store just before lunchtime. About halfway through our trip, we saw an assistant manager leading three new trainees around the store, pointing out the location of various items.
Sam stopped and watched for a second. Then he announced that three days before was the ninth anniversary of his date of hire.
Wow. Time flies.
The good people at Albertsons hired him as a courtesy clerk the summer after he graduated high school. He had help from a job coach, hired by the state, to make sure he got off to a good start.
Sam has received lots of raises through the years but he hasn’t sought promotions to jobs like checker or stocker because he doesn’t feel the kinds of problems they manage are the kinds of problems he could solve quickly.
His favorite part of the job is retrieving carts. If you catch him heading out the door to fetch carts, you will see him ride a cart like a skateboard to the far side of the parking lot. He tells me it’s a move he invented.
Sometimes, he says, the managers tell him there’s enough carts for now, and he needs to come back inside to help sack groceries.
He’s a good sacker, but he he thinks that the speedy sacking champions who used to make an appearance on The Late Show with David Letterman are just crazy.
Although I don’t have it on any authority at all, the store seemed too quiet after Wal-Mart opened at Rayzor Ranch. But recently, it’s been busy no matter what day or time I visit the store. I don’t know the reason, although I have my theories. People are struggling with the construction on University Drive. And more than once I’ve heard someone say they are tired of the crazy parking in the lot outside Kroger.
Who knows how much longer he’ll be there. He just headed out the door right now to walk to work. He’s a cheerful, reliable employee. When we were shopping yesterday, everyone, including the store manager, stopped to say hello.
As wonderful as working at Albertsons has been, and will likely continue to be, Sam should be celebrating his second or third anniversary in the tech sector. That’s what his degree is in. That’s where his talents are. That’s what the contract says with his new job coach.
The IT sector is desperate for employees. Sam’s brother, Michael, didn’t major in IT, and yet that is where he landed. It’s hard not to feel irony’s burn. We worked so hard to get to this point. Sam’s ready for the world. But the world isn’t ready for him at all.
Building Arduinos
Tonight was Sam’s second time to go to North Branch Library and their meet-up group for Arduino. Sam says there’s a lot to explain about Arduino. “The possibilities are endless,” he says. “You can build drones. But today, it was mostly about building electronic musical instruments.”
For example, he built this little theremin today.
He calls it a light theremin because it changes its sound frequency based on different levels of light.
He also built this little keyboard. “It’s not exactly a keyboard,” Sam says. “It’s just buttons.”
Tale of two clocks
It’s been long enough in the new house that the second bill for internet service arrived in the mail this week. I count it a personal achievement that I have left work brain-drained and exhausted more than once these past four weeks and never pointed the truck the wrong way home.
That’s 20 years of driving habits undone, just like that.
Sam felt comfortable enough with the set-up of his apartment, completely separate yet conveniently located behind the house, to post a triumphant photo on Facebook this week. He had all his boxes and bags unpacked within a week. That included filling a wall of shelves with books and games. But, in true-t0-Sam fashion, he didn’t consider it all done until the wifi, Chromecast and a new clock got installed.
This Monday was the first time he was able to watch one of his favorite shows, Dancing with the Stars, in a long time.
Sunday his clock arrived. He had ordered it a few days before on Amazon. All his mobile devices display the current time, but he still wanted a big, traditional clock on the wall.
Well, almost traditional.
I bought a clock on Sunday, too. We were at the Denton Arts and Jazz Fest. An artist there built clocks in sturdy oak frames and printed out clock faces filled with inside jokes. Sam was still reading clock faces by the time I finished my purchase of a “writer’s clock,” with hours and hours of “write” or “revise” and the end of the “writer’s block” hour coming with the “adult beverage” hour.
I chuckled when I got it home and read the insert on how to power up and set the time on the clock. The artist may have set up shop for the weekend in Denton, but he lives just down the road from my family in Colorado.
Sam’s clock required no effort on his part to set. That was all taken care of by the satellite it signaled.
Of course.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #286
Sam: Are you ready for some big news?
Peggy: Yes, I am.
Sam: I took first in trail. (pauses) And … I found out on Facebook.
See Sam Drive: Tractor Edition
Sam and I re-homed the tractor today, one of many steps away from the farm and toward life in town.
He drove the tractor as I followed him in the pickup, loaded up with nearly all the tractor accoutrements Mark had acquired over the years, down Frenchtown Road for the last time.
Mark taught Sam to drive the tractor when he was a teen. He wanted Sam to learn to drive a car and figured this was a good way to see how he’d manage. Better to mow down a few trees or nick a fence or two in the relative safety of your Texas-sized front yard in that journey of self-discovery.
Sam, Master of the Tractor/Photo by Mark Wolfe
Mark was right. Sam could do it. When he pulled the tractor up under the carport this afternoon and parked it perfectly, Susan exclaimed, “Wow, Sam, you’re a professional!”
Sam wasn’t going to tolerate any tears from me, so I blinked them back behind my sunglasses.
“I made it!” he beamed.