A New Book

I've recently begun to read again. I'd stopped reading for pleasure while I was going to school part-time, which ended in May 2006. After graduation I took a break from reading entirely. It wasn't until last spring, when I joined a book group, that I started reading again.

I'm enjoying it immensely. I've rediscovered the library and now get all my books from the branch two blocks from my office. I've torn through Blindness, Never Let Me Go, What's That Pig Outdoors, Teach Like Your Hair's on Fire, Wicked, The Golden Compass, The Subtle Knife, and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I've also started keeping a list of books to read. Each time I near the end of a book, I go online to the library's Web site and reserve the next book on my list.

Well, last Friday I found myself in the library, returning The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife, and discovered that my hold on the last book in the His Dark Materials trilogy, The Amber Spyglass, had been improperly processed and I was suddenly bookless. I pulled out my BlackBerry, opened my list of books and asked the librarian if they had The Historian. "By Kostova?" came the reply. I nodded.

All this to lead up to my bus ride this morning. My first bus was deliciously chilly, the air conditioning beating back the hot, humid air, turning the bus into a meat locker. Alas, the second bus had more in common with a locker room than a meat locker. I grabbed a seat near the front of the bus, where it tends to be cooler, and started reading. I'm about 70 pages into the book and it has yet to capture me. I'm not sure if it's the subject material, the way the narrative is constructed or the fact that I'm a little daunted by the length (642 pages), but I was having a hard time blocking out the sounds of those around me.

Making matters worse, two men were talking loudly in the seat next to me. The louder of the two men had a French accent AND was discussing recruiting. The former difficult to block out as it is a unique sound in these parts (accents from almost any other part of the world are common, but not French); the latter as it is a topic in which I am oft times interested. I spent the entire bus ride unsuccessfully attempting to focus on my book.

Don't people understand the rules? Commuters don't talk. It's part of our code. We sit quietly. We listen to iPods. We read. We sleep. But we don't talk. Especially in the morning. Tourists talk. And we all know how they annoy everyone. Maybe I should draw up a code of conduct and make all the regular commuters sign it. Then we can all commute in peace. And I can get on with my book.

Blair & Julie's Visit: Day 3 ... turned into Day 4

Read about Blair & Julie's Visit: Day 1 | Day 2

Blair & Julie


Blair and Clara head to head


Clara demonstrating her new
favorite face for Aunt Julie

Blair and Julie were scheduled to fly out at 8pm yesterday. I drove them to National Airport, bid them adieu, and started the drive back home. I was dialing one of my brothers for a chat on the way home when Blair phone number came up on my caller ID. "Our flight was canceled. We're on flights tomorrow. Can you come get us?" I quickly exited, did a cloverleaf, and headed back to the airport.

They were still wrestling with airline people, so I drove over to the cell phone waiting area. I pulled next to a woman whose car wouldn't start. We found a pair of jumper cables and, after a quick call to Jared for instructions on how to jump a car, we got her running. Looks like Scout Camp had an impact.

I went back to the terminal and collected our weary travellers. The airline put Blair on a 7:30am flight back home, and Julie on a noon flight. Even the pregnant-woman card couldn't get them on a flight together. Back at our house, we played some more Killer Bunnies, I had introduced them to the game earlier in the day to a wonderful reception, and visited until we all crashed into bed.

I awoke early, got Blair to the airport on time, and took Julie back to my office where she promptly fell asleep in the nap room for three hours. I took her to the airport around 9:30am and thus ended our wonderful weekend with Blair & Julie. Luckily we are going to see them when we are in Minnesota in two weeks. Can't wait!

Jared said this post should have been called 'This White Man Can Jump'.

An Explorer in the Making

For a couple of weeks now, Clara has been using the knobs on the lower cabinet doors of our entertainment center in her attempts to pull herself up to a standing position. So far she's been unsuccessful, but tonight she did discover that those doors open up, revealing a wonderful new world of potential mischief. The look of surprise on her face when she opened them the first time was priceless; I so wish I had my camera at the ready. I closed it and she promptly opened the door again, quite proud of herself. She then proceeded to empty the lower shelf - behold:


And if that wasn't enough for one night, as we were bathing her this evening she reached over, grabbed the side of the bathtub, and pulled herself right up. Crawling I can handle. Standing, I'm not so sure.

And so it begins.

Blair & Julie's Visit: Day 2

Clara decided to wake up early, so we brought her into bed with us so Blair and Julie could sleep in. I'd forgotten how much you can sleep in when you don't have children. As they have one due in December, we didn't want to rob them of these last few fleeting opportunities.

Once they were up we went to Waffle King's Virginia Kitchen for a good old southern breakfast. Kristin had a chicken skillet, I had country fried steak, Blair had the Johnny Reb (biscuits and gravy), and Julie had an omlette. I am proud to say that we introduced them (both mid-westerners) to home fries and I think they were rather well received.

The rest of the day featured a trip to Carters (huge sale, $3.19 for a outfit, how can you not), some quality time playing the Wii (don't get Blair started on bowling as he tends to exhibit more than the requisite amount of flair), and took a trip to Wegmans, where we had subs for dinner. Julie was appropriately impressed with Wegmans. At one point she mentioned that she really like Northern Virginia. Her tone changed slightly after we discussed housing prices (they just bought a single family home, and I can only dream).

We went to bed tired, but glad we had the chance to get quality time with Blair and Julie. They're rather cool stock.

A Visit from Blair & Julie

Blair and Julie are in town! I haven't seen Blair in over four years, and we hadn't really sat down and spent any meaningful time together in over seven. When he had a chance to come to town on business, he extended the trip so we could meet his new wife and have a chance to bond.

We met this afternoon at the Metro station near my office. We rode home together, when I learned that Julie eschews umbrellas. Whether it be on moral or practical grounds, I'll leave to her to explain.

We met up with Kristin and Clara and went to Pei Wei for dinner. We had a great time introducing them to one of our favorite new dining spots and look forward to a good weekend together.

Seven Months, a Little Late

So I should have posted this almost a week ago, but things have been a tad busy around here, what with Harry Potter reading to do. (As an aside, I've finished my second reading.) Clara was seven months last Thursday, and I've discovered something about her. She seems to like to celebrate the 19th of every month with a major developmental forward leap. At 5 months 1 day she suddenly started rolling over like a fiend, at 6 months 2 days she started sitting completely unsupported, and at 7 months minus a day she started scooting around. It's a commando-style crawl as she hasn't yet figured out that her knees can get in on the action, but it's enough to get her to her toys...and into trouble. So far we have one baby gate up, with two more to follow soon; she hasn't shown much interest in the stairs yet, but I know it's only a matter of time.

She's proving herself to be a very active little ball of energy with a voice to match. It seems that Clara believes you're not really talking unless you're yelling. She's usually a happy, funny baby with a somewhat mischievous twinkle in her eye, although she's not shy about letting us know that something is upsetting her...and it usually involves either her crib or her carseat. She's really not too fond of captivity in general. We think she's starting to try to wave hello; she holds one arm up bent at a 90 degree angle with the other arm sticking straight out to the side. It's either that or she's trying to imitate Michael Flatley: Lord of the Dance.


As soon as I can manage to get a picture I'll post it; it really is pretty funny.

I tried to take some pictures the other day, but between a camera that wasn't doing what I wanted (really, really tempted to buy a digital SLR) and an uncooperative seven-month-old, most of the cute ones turned out blurry. But here are a few that sort of turned out:


And a little extra something...I can just hear her thinking, "Seriously, Mom, no more green beans."

I am done.

Got home from Scout Camp at 2:00pm yesterday.
Finished at 5:06pm today.
When did you?

Off to bed with me.

I'm on page 502.

Kristin is done

Kristin just turned to me. She just finished the book.

Signs You've Left Northern Virginia (On the Road to Scout Camp)

Signs You've Left Northern Virginia

1. McDonald's staffed entirely by white people.
2. Count the smiles. Then count the missing teeth.
3. Men in sleeveless shirts. Women in just a t-shirt.

Ethnic diversity, orthodontia, and underwire - the reasons I love Northern VA.

Film the Fifth

Tonight dear cousin Jane braved the wiles of a sick Clara and came a-babysitting so Kristin and I could take in Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. A huge thanks to Jane for the babysitting offer, as well as being such a good babysitter.

We walked into the theatre with 10 minutes to spare. My eyes fell up two center seats, albeit lower in the theatre than is my preference, when someone waving and calling out my name caught my attention. It was our friend Paige! Of all the places showing Phoenix, of all the screenings at said places, we happen into the same one. And she and her friend Joanne happen to have empty seats next to them. As we sat down we remarked that fate helped us keep the 'see every Potter movie with Paige' tradition alive. ("It is fate, but call it Italy if it pleases you, Vicar.")

It must be noted that I walked into this movie with certain expectations. First, book five, while a book I greatly enjoyed, is one of tougher books to get through, owning to its length and Harry's teenage angst. Second, movie four was incredibly weak. Lastly, the trailer for movie five all but screamed, "This is why I'm hot!" There was action, Harry getting his Cho on, and Helena Bonham Carter; an exciting sample that was equal as enticing. I was pumped to see this movie. As the opening bars of Hedwig's Theme rolled out, I grabbed Kristin's arm and squeezed it to communicate my excitement. This was going to be good.

And by and large it was! The movie ended up being my second favorite, closely following on the heels of Azkaban. (Cuarón's interpretation was memorable in oh so many ways.) In fairness, films one and two, simple translations of scenes from the first books onto the screen, might have scared off viewers had they made too strong a departure. Columbus was building the foundation for a multi-billion dollar franchise. Movie four, on the other hand, had no such excuse. Cuarón had already blazed the trail. Newell could have done better.

For movie five the screenwriter made some interesting choices as far as reworking scenes and events into a coherent story. In the process we lost the zits spelling 'sneak' but he did manage to keep the "emotional range of a teaspoon" and "you've got to admit he's got style" quotes. There was also a shout out to Dumbledore's brother, but that's Kristin's connection to share.

The music was very well done. The composer was Nicholas Hopper (looked him up and didn't see anything familiar). During the opening sequence, the entr'acte if you will, he played with Hedwig's Theme - a risky move, playing around with a Williams composition - to great effect. A few songs sounded almost Thomas Newman-esque. One of the best choices was to forgo music for the final dual between Dumbledore and Voldemort. The sound of the battle and visuals built excellent tension. IMDB says he is signed on to do the music for movie six.

All that being said, the movie wasn't perfect. My chief complaint was the handling of two scenes in particular, leading Umbridge into the forest and the stand-off in the department of mysteries. Each felt like it lacked a build-up to a key moment - Umbridge being carried away, Sirius' death and the breaking of the prophecy - which I feel could have help build tension and emotion for the most-engaging final fight. Also, Helena played Bellatrix a little weirder than I suspect Bellatrix to be. But then again, this is the wife/partner/whatever of Tim Burton we're talking about. You've got to expect a little freakiness.

On the way home I commented to Kristin that the movies really have to be taken as individual artistic expressions, which happen to be set in Rowling's Potter universe. When it comes to canon, we have the books and interviews with Rowling. Sure the movies are important, but just because the screenwriter focused on a certain theme it doesn't mean Rowling intended that to be the primary statement for the novel.

All that said, go and see the movie. It's a great time.

Blogging from a Metro escalator

Just got on the metro.

I swear I walked past a man, sitting on a crate next to the station entrance, who was toking up.

I swear.

Potter Puppet Pals

A new crop of children, raised on Harry Potter, have reached the age where their fan creations are increasingly sophisticated, moving beyond the crayon picture on the fridge. Take Potter Puppet Pals, for example. Introduced to me by the Little Mormon Boy Scouts, Potter Puppet Pals are puppet shows posted on YouTube featuring Harry, Ron, Hermione, Snape, Dumbledore and others. During Scouts, the boys were choked with laughter as they recounted different episodes. At one point one yelled, "Pipe bomb!" and all collapsed in fits of laughter. I figured I had to check it out.

I followed their instructions: go to YouTube and type in Potter Puppet Pals. Immediately, results popped up. Video after video, with every one I watched featuring the line "I'm Snape the potions master." There was even a video of a live Potter Puppet Pals performance, with the audience chanting along in delight.

Of the ones I viewed, my favorite was The Mysterious Ticking Noise. Either click the title in the previous sentence or click play below. Enjoy.

Friendship

As any loyal reader of this blog will know, Kristin and I are part of a tight-knit circle of friends that do pretty much everything together. A recent comment caused me to ponder on the nature of this association.

We are a group of random people who happened into the same congregation at church. About the same age, at the same station in life, we started socializing out of convenience – "Hey, you’re doing the same things I’m doing. Let’s do them together."

Over time we realized that there were other things we shared: trials, blessings, talents, passions. As each commonality was uncovered, I found myself asking, "How is it that we all ended up at the same place, at the same time, going through the same thing?" I can count many times that I've been faced with a challenge only to find one of my friends is dealing with the same thing. An immediate support group to help me through the tough times.

And quickly these people became family, as well as friends.

It’s because of this type of friendship that I woke up at 8am today to run to Shoppers and buy some donuts, then to take my friend to pick up a moving truck. It is because of this type of friendship that I helped, along with a team of people from church, load then unload a moving truck. It's because of this type of friendship that I spent the next few hours driving around the area, picking up other furniture, hauling it down stairs then up stairs. It’s because of this type of friendship that, after going home to shower, I showed back up on my friend’s doorstep with a wife and child and another set of friends and said, "Let’s get your living space put together."

And it's because of this type of friendship that I woke up at 4:00am the following week to drive these friends to the airport.

I don’t tell you all this to glory in myself - I've had people do far more for me. I tell you this so that you might know how thankful I am that God placed these amazing people in my life, people that I can truly call 'friend'.

Narcissa?

Clara loves, and I mean loves, her reflection. Anytime she's fussy just take her into the bathroom to look in the mirror and you get instant smiles.



The mirror-baby gets more kisses than mom and dad do. Silly kiddo.

Harry Potter News

My, oh my, it's been a while since I've posted Harry Potter news. Here are a few things I've stumbled upon in the last few days.

BIG NEWS #1: The last word is no longer 'scar'!

When asked by the chat show host whether the word "scar" was still the last word in the book, as had been reported, she said: "Scar? It was for ages, and now it's not.

"Scar is quite near the end, but it's not the last word."

Source: washingtonpost.com

#2: There's been a lot of talk about whether Harry is going to die at the end of the book. Kristin firmly believes that Harry can't die and these remain children's books. I feel like Harry is on the Hero's Journey, and that his death is almost called for, that the ultimate sacrifice is required. What do you think? Read more at cnn.com.

#3: The True News Source has produced an online feature, "Hogwarts Hub", with all things Potter. Check it out.

Blogging from the team lunch

We had a team lunch today for Tina's birthday. Over dessert we discussed Tina's birthday plans. She mentioned a party (that her brother was bringing heaven knows who to) and that she wished I wasn't married and could come to the party. And I quote here, "my friends would turn you out. I'd be like. Get him y'all, get him."

I wouldn't have stood a chance.

Two Little Feet

So, recently Clara hasn't been sleeping very well. We're running into problems with her formula. Neocate tastes awful. You know it's bad when the company publishes a list of things to do when you child starts refusing their product. Since we've introduced solids, Clara won't take a bottle unless she's half asleep. This has resulted in her getting accustomed to being held while falling asleep. We are not happy about this, but have decided getting her the food she needs is more important right now.

In the mornings, in an attempt to help her get a little more sleep, we bring her into bed with us. Combine this with a slightly more mobile child (Kristin just commented that Clara's movements seem significantly more deliberate than those of a month ago) and you get some interesting experiences. The other morning she was flailing about in her sleep and came close to clocking Kristin in the eye. She better watch it. I don't want to be blamed for my wife having a shiner!

So this morning I woke up to the pressure of two little six-month-old feet pushing on the middle of my back. Is someone trying to kick me out of my own bed?

Sigh.

Heidi is a good friend. On her blog she posted a recipe for
bread pudding. Oh, I love bread pudding. (Kristin does not. Alas, the one incompatibility in our relationship.) I followed the link and found an amazing blog full of great recipes and step by step pictures of how to make each dish. The lighting in the pictures, something I am currently struggling with, is amazing. Go check out the recipe at The Pioneer Woman Cooks!.

But my run in with bread pudding doesn't stop there. No! I stopped by Whole Foods on the way home from work today (needed soy-free, wheat-free, dairy-free biter biscuits for Clara). I walked by the bakery, in the hopes that something would jump into my basket, and found the dessert bar. A very inspired dessert bar.

• Item: Whole Food's Strawberry and Cream cake by the slice. Ask anyone at work; this is my favorite cake.
• Item: Chocolate Cake by the slice.
• Item: Bread Pudding by the spoonful.
  
  and ...
  
  wait for it ...
  
  
• Item: Croissant Pudding by the spoonful.

I couldn't resist. I grabbed a plastic container, scooped up some bread pudding and twice the amount of croissant pudding. I was giddy. I was full of nervous excitement. What would this taste like? Could you really improve on the goodness that is bread pudding? At the check out I asked where I could get a fork. I jumped in my car, turned on the A/C, and opened my little container. It was warm. It smelled so good. Wanting to build up to it, I dug my little plastic fork into the bread pudding. Oh, that first bite. White bread and a nice custard pudding with a few pieces of fruit here and there. Another bite. Same glorious sensation. Bread pudding. Sigh.

I could already feel my stomach starting to ache. Yet stopping wasn't in the equation. I had croissant pudding. I had to try it. My little fork quivered with excitement. Bite one. The buttery flavor of the croissant called through the creamy custard. The choice of tart fruit was a brilliant one, as the flavors of rich butter, heavy cream, and tart fruit sang a chorus of joy across my tongue, down my esophagus, to my stomach. Bite two. Bite three. Bite four. I had to stop myself. I had to save some for tonight. I still had dinner to eat! Oh, I just spoiled my dinner.

On the way home a most wonderful thought crossed my mind: the greatest joy of bread pudding is that I never have to share. It's all mine.

Clara's 4th of July Outfit

Per Alicia's request, a few pictures of Clara. She loved her 4th of July outfit. Okay, she didn't really know there was anything special about the outfit. Plus her parents have people over to play the Wii so much that it seemed like any other day. Regardless, she looked quite cute, so I'm posting the pictures. Enjoy!

Happy Independence Day!

Well, it wasn't like the last six Fourths of July, but change can be good. Our tradition in years past has been to head down to my office, sit in the air conditioning, and watch the fireworks over The Mall. Due to bedtimes and a cranky Clara we decided to stay home and have a BBQ.

And what better way to BBQ than with a group of great friends? David, Bonnie & Michael, Bruce, Julie & Colter, Pete, Mika, Lauren & McKenzie, and Aaron, Tiffany, Logan & Samara converged on our homestead for a midday munch-fest. The one tradition we did keep up was preparing enough food for a group twice our size. Julie made an amazing 3-P potato salad featuring pepper, paprika, and potatoes. Tiffany brought a great grape and pecan salad (with a dressing made from orange juice, sour cream, and goodness), and a sugar-cookie dessert topped like the American flag in fresh berries. Mika brought a couple of great salads (loved the Caesar) and a veggie tray. And Bonnie made a great summer punch with a limeade base, seltzer water and fresh cucumber.

After ingesting enough calories for the next three days we started playing the Wii. Aaron & Tiffany have one, too, so he ran home and got an extra controller so we could have four people playing at all times. We had a great time playing the Mario Party mini-games, the cow game, and all of Wii Sports. We found out that someone is pretty competitive, almost to the level of the male host. It's nice to have competitive people around.

To top the evening off, we headed over to David & Bonnie's new house to check it out. The place looks awesome! We're so glad they were able to get a home so close by.

Happy 4th!

The iPhone

Ring, ring.

Person 1: This is Jeremy.

Person 2: You've been at work how long and you haven't been down to show off your new toy?

Person 1: chuckling Where are you?

Person 2: In the testing room. Come now.

Click.

Today I experienced the iPhone.

Part phone, part iPod, part Web browser, and a whole lotta beauty, the iPhone is rocking the SQ. For those not in the know, SQ is the critical measure when developing Oliverian product ratings for the past ten years. The S is for sexiness; the Q, for quotient. When something has SQ, you know it. And when it doesn't ... (Zune say what?)

When you hold an iPhone, you immediately notice the heft of the product. Heavier than an iPod, the weight feels natural in your hand. The next thing you notice is how nice the brushed steal casing feels as it rests in your hand. A wise departure from the polished metal of the iPod. As I test drove each of the features, Jeremy pointed out how the browser automatically zooms into the column width of a particular section of the page when you double click, how flawless pinching to zoom is in the maps application (the product responds as quickly as it did in the ads), how coverflow had to have been created for the iPhone and ported to the desktop iTunes as an afterthought. As only someone obsessed with design could put it, he gave the insight, "Apple has taken Web browsing and turned it into a tactile experience." He's absolutely right. The Web has never felt so natural on a portable device.

A little later in the day, back at Jeremy's desk to talk iPhone, it dawned on me one of the reasons why the iPhone is so captivating. Do you know that feeling? When you hold a good pen? When the pen is a little heavier than some Bic toss-away you'd receive at a trade show? The way the covering of the pen rests smoothly against your skin? That feeling. The good pen feeling. Holding the iPhone is the same. The heft, the texture, the balanced perfection. It is the same.

I know a lot of people who'd shell out good money for a quality pen. For my money, and it's a lot of money, I'm sure one day I'll be shelling out for an iPhone.

Why I Blog

Kristin just turned to me and exclaimed, "I finished a scrapbook page!" (Exclamation added.) We put The Boo down a little early tonight and she finally had a chance to capture the story of Clara's babbling for Clara's scrapbook. Kristin hasn't had much time to scrapbook lately. For her, the process of digitally manipulating photos, printing them out, and crafting a page from papers, rivets, ribbons, and things is equal parts creativity and catharsis. I love to see her sitting at the table, bent over a page, moving pieces of paper around as she recreates the picture in her mind on the page before her. The end result is always stunning, possessing a geometric sensibility of which I never tire.

I was on a friend's blog today and, after clicking a link or five, came across a quiz: How Addicted to Blogging Are You? Kristin sat next to me and laughed along as I read question after question that describes my relationship with my blog:

• Have you ever 'live blogged?' (where you blog about an event as it's happening)
  Uh, yes.
• If something interesting happens to you, do you immediately think about how you're going to write about it on your blog?
  Too often.
• Have you ever tried to convince a friend or family member they should start a blog?
  David & Bonnie are the only hold-outs.
• Have you ever come up with a great blog idea while doing something completely random, such as taking a shower or watching a movie?
  Everyone knows that all true inspiration comes while taking a shower.
• The last question: When this quiz is over, do you plan on blogging about your blogging addiction?
  ... ... ...

Did these people secretly tape me to create the questionnaire?

After picking ourselves up off the floor, my results displayed:82%How Addicted to Blogging Are You? What happened to the other 18%?

Which brings me to the title of this post. For quite some time I've felt like I need to talk about why I update this crazy thing. Yes, seeing my site metrics on Google Analytics and knowing that I have page rank are incredibly important, but even more important is the concept of family history, the history of oneself and ones family.

Family history is capturing the story of our lives. Genealogy tells us about our family lines, our pedigree, but family history helps us to know who we are. As anyone who knows me well can attest, I love people. When I meet a new person, I long to hear their stories, find out what they have done, why they do what they do. Last Sunday some friends invited us over for dinner and we traded our "How did you meet?" stories. After I took an hour-plus in the retelling (Kristin chimed in every few paragraphs) I asked our hosts to share their story. "Oh, it's not very exciting," came the reply. Forty-five minutes and some most excellent tales later I had new insight into our friends. They had a VERY exciting "How did you meet?" story and I was honored that they shared it with me.

In my father's parents closing years I began to ask them to tell me their stories. I learned how my grandparents met coming out of the New York City subway in the 1930s. I learned that they chose their wedding date by figuring out which of their leases ended first. I learned that they were married on a lunch break and went back to work afterwards. As my mother's parents age, I long to do the same, so my family and I don't miss out on the stories that help us define these great people and, in turn, ourselves.

For my father's 60th birthday I asked my mother and siblings to write down their remembrances of my father's parents. I compiled, bound and distributed copies to each family member. A simple present, I treasure the copy that sits on my book self, waiting for the day when Clara can pick it up and discover those wonderful people.

And that is why I blog. This is my history, the history of my family. Though it will never be regarded as a great literature, or even mildly entertaining, I hope that someday it will help Clara and her siblings know me a little better. Then, between the discussions of allowances and agency, boys and bedtimes, and cars and curfews, hopefully they will be able to see who I am. And in turn, to see and know who they are.