Commonplace

All the Pretty Typos

2011-01-09T23:33:00.000-08:00

In an effort to jumpstart the blogging here once again, I'm warming up to more posts by publishing a link to my typos blog, the simply named Book Typos.

Or, if you'd like to see more of what I've been reading, try Goodreads, and search for jesteram.

Or, if you're interested in seeing another online project to which I rarely post, check out Halfpenny Orchestra.

Volcano Story

2010-07-22T22:14:00.000-07:00

Hattie Rose dictated a story for Sarah today--her first ever original creation she wanted written down. It's sign she's following in her father's footsteps. It's also a sign of ... well ... here it is:

"A large volcano. Spread out and burned! This rocks! And the people was dead. And the bones. And the blood. And it's arms, and it's head. And it blowed down."

Ed. note: "This rocks!" refers to the actual rocks flying out of the volcano, as in "These are rocks!" or, in the children's colloquial, "This is rocks!"

I Don't Think I'll be Getting a Personal Pan Pizza

2010-03-15T22:53:00.000-07:00

Remember Book It? Pizza Hut teamed up with, I dunno, books, I guess, to encourage elementary school kids to read in the late '80s. We all got nifty blue buttons with empty spots for yellow-star stickers. When you filled your button up with five stars, you got a little pizza.

I loved reading. I still do. I was always reading anyway, so the Book It program made me feel like I was getting rewarded for essentially a biological imperative: "Good job breathing today, kid. Let me guess: pepperoni?"

Early this year, the SLO County Library system announced an Adult Winter Reading Challenge that made me think of Book It for the first time in decades. The organizers even promised prizes for people who complete the task: 10 books, selected from various mandatory categories, by mid-April. Something makes me think the reward isn't a pizza, personal pan or otherwise, but I still wanted to do it.

My life today, however, isn't as commitment free as it was back when I lived on pretty much nothing more than books and pizza. Between two newspapers to run and two children to keep alive, not to mention a wife I like to spend free time with, I'm finding I don't blaze through the books as quickly as I used to. My annual foray into songwriting with FAWM probably didn't help much, either.

What initially seemed like a fun challenge has become something of an albatross or millstone or whatever around my neck. I'm already embarrassed because I'm pretty sure I won't read 10 books by the deadline. Not even close.

I just finished my first book: John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath, chosen to satisfy the "American Classic" category. I'd never read it before, but I had wanted to check it out for quite some time. It was probably a mistake, though. I truly thought it was a phenomenal read, but as the first volume of 10 to be tackled, it probably wasn't a wise choice.

Favorite passage, by the way: "And the people listened, and their faces were quiet with listening. The story tellers, gathering attention into their tales, spoke in great rhythms, spoke in great words because the tales were great, and the listeners became great through them."

I'm now reading Paolo Bacigalupi's The Windup Girl (for which I'm also leading a month-long discussion over at Goodreads) to satisfy the "Science or Science Fiction" category, which really seems like two very distinct genres to me. Since I tend to read multiple books concurrently, I'm also a chapter or two into Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express (for "Mystery").

One category on the list I'm still puzzling over, however, is "Self Help." I'd like to start making my own mead—you know, because I need another hobby—but I'm not sure if a volume on such an endeavor qualifies. Any suggestions? Aside from the snide and the obvious? Or The Zombie Survival Guide, because I've already read it?

So Do We Get That Week Off?

2010-01-09T17:50:00.000-08:00

Hattie was just flipping through Sarah's recently purchased yearly planner and came across a slip of paper with some bad news.

"ERRATA:

"Due to a printing error, the dates 24-30 are missing from the January 2010 monthly calendar in this edition of the Barnes & Noble 2010 Desk Diary.

"We apologize for any inconvenience this has caused the reader."

Obviously, they're not sorry enough to let the reader know this fact upfront, before the reader buys the defective thing and starts writing in appointments.

We Are Still Here

2009-11-17T22:27:00.000-08:00

So, having a toddler and an infant apparently make it harder to blog consistently. That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. And then I remembered that a post doesn't have to be long or involved or eloquent or interesting, though that last one helps, I suppose.

It doesn't have to be timely, either, which is why I'm posting some pics from mid October, from our annual trip to the Avila Valley Barn pumpkin patch with the Rookses. We've been getting pumpkins there every year since there were just four of us. Now there are eight, and it's so fun to see the girls rummaging through the leaves, searching for pumpkins to take home. (You can see more colorful results at Hattie's blog.)

Is more blogging more frequently on the horizon? Yeah, sure. Believe what you want.

August and Everything Before

2009-08-08T16:35:00.000-07:00

As you may recall, this summer started with a baby. Matilda Jane joined the Miller family in May, wriggling and crying and kicking off a season of activity.

We celebrated Hattie's second birthday on June 14 with a sushi party in the park. There was real sushi to eat as a main course, and candy sushi to eat for dessert. The centerpiece was a California roll-shaped cake that Sarah designed, with shredded coconut for rice, fruit jellies for the various fillings, and orange jellybeans for roe on top. If only this were a color-friendly blog ... .

All four of us went camping with my parents and four other families in mid-June. Technically, only Hattie and I went camping, but Sarah and Tilly did come up to the mountains for a day so a lot of our friends and their families could meet the newest girl in the group. Hattie and I stayed two nights in my parents' trailer while Sarah and Tilly traveled back to Sacramento to visit with Sarah's family. We ate s'mores, rested in hammocks, played games. You know, camping stuff.

Hattie has been talking about the trip ever since, mostly because she saw a black bear within seconds of our arrival. We pulled up in our van and looked through the windshield: Bear. Right there. The last night we were there, it raided the camp for hot chocolate. It devoured all the Nestle but left the Swiss Miss. Take from that what you will. Hattie spent several days over the last week telling us that's she's going to go camping with Grandma and see a bear again.

Besides the close-ish encounter with wildlife, Hattie's favorite part of the trip was visiting the lake, splashing around, and climbing on rocks. She's like a mermaid, freakishly born with legs instead of a tail. Also, she breathes air.

In July, we went to the Central Coast Renaissance Faire, as is the Miller custom. We opted not to go in our traditional costumes, since wearing shorts and a T-shirt is so much more comfortable and allows plenty of freedom of movement for eating shepherd's pie and drinking pomegranate mead. We also ate Hawaiian shave ice, funnel cake, and an enormous breakfast burrito with salsa, none of which--correct me if I'm wrong, history majors--is exactly historically accurate. (I later learned that pina colada-flavored syrup wasn't invented until the 1700s.)

Hattie's favorite part of the day was the jousting, which also--I believe--was a bit of an anachronism. The knights autographed pieces of broken lance after the event. For a fee. That went toward care of the horses, which they had "rescued from a life of boredom."

This summer has also included a trip to the Monterey Bay Aquarium, a 1-year-old's back-hills redneck party with roast pig, a brave trip to the drive-in to see Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Hattie couldn't believe we ate nachos and hotdogs in the car and got to watch a Goofy cartoon before the movie started), live music and dancing at a bar, plenty of dress-up, and the birth of a couple new friends! Some of those activities may find their way here in the coming days and weeks, though two girls underfoot makes for sporadic blogging.

Tilly's Birth Story

2009-06-14T09:57:00.001-07:00

First and foremost, I'd like to note that I caught her. Literally. She was dropping toward the floor and I stuck my hand out and caught her like she was a softball.

But a lot happened before that.

Sarah and I had been planning a home birth. Hattie, after all, was born at home (yes, by choice), and by all accounts, she's turned out fine. At 2-years-old and counting, she's talking and walking and pretending to be a giant spider--all the normal things.

Some mounting complications prompted us to reconsider our original plan. As this long-stagnant blog has indicated, Sarah spent a while in the hospital for a stomach bug. Shortly after her recovery, we were forced to move into a new house. We believe her sickness and the stress of the move conspired to start contractions, far too early. She went on bed rest.

Once she got her contractions under control, Sarah's blood pressure began rising, to borderline dangerous levels. We worked at keeping her healthy, and rest coupled with a high-protein diet seemed to be effective, taking us into a window in which the baby was considered full term.

Two weeks before her due date, Sarah began to have trouble feeling the baby move. After a particularly long stretch of apparent fetal inactivity (about 18 hours), we went to the hospital to get checked out. Turns out the baby was fine with a strong heartbeat, but Sarah's amniotic fluid was almost dangerously low.

Together, we considered the string of complications and consulted with our midwife and an OB who helped us when Sarah had been sick. We all ultimately agreed that induction would be the safest route, especially since the baby was doing so well (even if she wasn't really moving around). We could wait and try to get Sarah's amniotic fluids back up to safe levels, but if she worsened, we'd be going into labor with a less-healthy baby and more stressed Sarah.

The biggest relief to Sarah came in learning that she wouldn't have to be given any Pitocin--her biggest fear. In fact, all she needed was Cervidil, a minimally invasive drug that would kickstart contractions. It didn't even go in her bloodstream.

After making the decision to induce, we were checked into a birthing suite at French Hospital. We decided to pretend like we were at a hotel with room service--people brought us food, there was a TV and an adjustable bed, and staffers changed the sheets if necessary.

We hastily wrote a birth plan, noting that Sarah didn't want any pain medications, that I wanted to catch the baby if possible and cut the cord, and we generally wanted as natural a birth as safe and possible. All of the nurses and our OB agreed with the plan. We were impressed with how receptive everyone was to our wishes. The first nurse who attended Sarah noted that she had had a home birth 30 years earlier and believed in the birthing process. She assured us she would make sure that her replacement at the next shift felt the same way.

Sarah got her first dose (and an IV with hydrating fluids and some antibiotics, too) at about 6 p.m. on Sunday. Sporadic contractions began after a few hours and ran throughout the night. At the next morning, they gave her a second dose, and regular contractions soon began in earnest. She eventually hit her stride and labored mostly with just the two of us (and occasional visits from the nurses). Sarah didn't want anyone else around--probably in reaction to Hattie's birth, attended by myself, our midwife, her three assistants, both our moms, Sarah's sister, our friend Andrea, and her newborn Natalie. This time around, Sarah wanted me and only me. I was husband, father, and doula all rolled into one.

Our nurse, Suzanne, complimented Sarah on how well she relaxed and responded to my voice and touch. She said she could tell that we worked well together as a couple.

Throughout the labor, Sarah threw up several times, but that was still a marked improvement upon her first labor experience. She thinks the IV keeping her hydrated was a big part of how good she felt.

At about 1 p.m., Sarah was checked: 7 centimeters. Sarah got up to take a long, hot shower, and then her mom and sister brought Hattie so they'd be ready when the pushing started.

At about 3 p.m., the doctor checked Sarah again. She was at 8 centimeters, and the OB felt Sarah would labor for a while longer. Sarah's sister, Mary Rose, stuck around for support, and I continued encouraging Sarah to relax, change positions often, and go to the bathroom.

On one trip to the bathroom, she began pushing. I know, because I asked her: "Are you pushing?" She said she couldn't stop, so I called the nurse in. Sarah's bag of waters broke. I looked, and could see the baby crowning. The nurse told Sarah to walk back to the bed between contractions, but Sarah asked if she could have the baby on the toilet. When the nurse told her that wasn't an option, Sarah decided to get on all fours on the bathroom floor, which was fine by everyone.

She pushed once, maybe twice more. Our nurse, Suzanne, was calm and happy. Staffers stuffed blankets and liners as best they could under Sarah's hands and legs. The doctor arrived and asked for oil. I looked and saw a bulge where the baby would be coming out and stuck my hand there. A moment later, Sarah gave a push, and at 3:30 p.m., Matilda Jane Miller's head dropped into my waiting palm. Her body flopped along my arm.

Sarah's mom and Hattie had been in the hallway, but came back when they heard what was clearly Tilly being born. Upon realizing that Grandma couldn't get into the room, Hattie assessed the situation and reached out for a passing nurse so she could get in on the action.

In the bathroom, I quickly lifted Tilly to my chest, and in so doing accidentally tore the umbilical cord. Our doctor pinched off the cord and clamped it almost immediately for minimal blood loss to the baby. And she didn't even flinch. Seriously, the OB was a machine. We highly recommend her.

Someone asked Sarah how she felt, and she said, "I feel great!" My wife is awesome! Tilly was bundled and given to Sarah, who returned to bed to snuggle our new daughter and encourage her to nurse. Sarah suffered a second-degree tear (not as bad as with Hattie), but was otherwise fine.

Hattie almost immediately tried to feed Tilly some pretzels and apple juice. After a traditional post-partum dinner from Firestone (courtesy of the Rookses) and some light visiting, Sarah, Tilly, and I settled in for a good night's sleep before going home the next morning. Before we checked out, all of the staffers who had contibuted to our care checked in again. The nurse Suzanne told us she had been honored and blessed to be a part of Tilly's birth, which meant a lot to us.

We were honored and blessed by the help and encouragement we received from family, friends, and others throughout this pregnancy and birth. We're excited for you to meet Tilly, and if you've met her already, we're excited for you to see her again.

Hospital Highlights

2009-03-15T23:12:00.000-07:00

Sarah and I recently spent a lot of time in the hospital. I was there to keep her company and make sure she was getting the best care possible. She was there because she couldn't stop throwing up and had to have a constant stream of fluids via IV.

While at the hospital, I kept a notebook documenting what medications she was receiving and when, as well as her vital signs and various other details. It came in handy on more than one occasion. I also used it to jot down bits of overheard conversation and funny anecdotes. Since she's been home for more than a week (keeping food down, hooray!), I decided to look back over my notes. Among them:

* If one more person says we need to let the virus run its course, I'm going to punch someone.

* From the next bed over, where fiftysomething children comfort their paper-frail mother: "Mom, we're going to put you down," said gently, kindly (referring to the position of the bed).

* son to nurse: "She has a flap of skin on her lip. Do you have any scissors?"

* the woman in the next bed is watching a cartoon: "They have to have monsters in everything these days."

* One nurse has scrubs with multi-ethnic angels flying everywhere: "Happiness is being an angel." Appropriate?

* It's emesis, like "nemesis," not emesis, like "the Jesus."

* Sarah explains about a hypnobirthing-friendly hospital to a nurse. Nurse's response: "Really? Damn!"

* nurse to Sarah: "I'm going to get you some pillows. We're going to make you so comfortable, you're never going to want to throw up!"

* I noticed the TV in Sarah's room is labeled "Type B Equipment."

* Sarah had a dream about a hotel clubhouse with jacuzzi toilets you sat in and went. Then they drained and refilled and you could relax in them.

The Long February

2009-03-07T22:16:00.000-08:00

It's the shortest month of the year, and yet ...

Every year since we've been married, Sarah and I have dealt with some disaster on or around Valentine's Day. Usually, it's a sickness. Our first Valentine's Day as husband and wife, I got gastroenteritis, a nasty stomach bug that violently hurries all food and liquid out of your system from the nearest available orifice. Repeatedly.

Subsequent Valentine's Days have been less ... explosive? expulsive? ... but still no fun.
Then came 2009. Neither of us was sick. Sarah's parents were visiting, and they watched Hattie while we had a leisurely breakfast and strolled around downtown SLO. It was wonderful. We reveled in it.

And we paid for it. Ah, hubris.

Toward the end of the month, Sarah developed a sore throat that looked, sounded, and felt like strep. But it wasn't. Two tests confirmed that. Fortunately, the mysterious symptoms went away after a couple of days. But they were replaced by ... can you guess? ... gastroenteritis.

As you may have gathered from my earlier description, this particular malady is horrible under the best of circumstances. But since Sarah was also 27 weeks pregnant, horrible took a turn for the worse. And scary.

After it became apparent that Sarah wasn't going to be able to keep anything--anything at all--in her system, we hurried to the ER at a nearby hospital. That was 10:30 on a Wednesday night.

Long story short, Sarah came home from the hospital on Thursday. The next Thursday, that is. She spent more than a week with an IV sticking out of one of four places on her arms, moving from the ER to Step-Down to Med-Surg to OB. She was poked and prodded while she puked. And every doctor (about half a dozen came through to tell her she was rather far along in her pregnancy to still be having morning sickness) had a different theory and line of treatment. One doctor, who actually made some helpful comments mid-way through Sarah's illness, later came in to tell her that her chakras were back in alignment. Nice.

I kept a notebook with me (I took a few days off work and slept at the hospital for four of the nights), and I'm glad I did. In more than one instance, I told a confused doctor or nurse Sarah's most recent blood pressure, the last time she kept food down, or some other detail about her care. Twice I suggested a different pharmaceutical than the doctor was suggesting. In both cases, my suggestion was safer for an unborn child and proved effective at helping Sarah's healing process.

To be fair, we encountered some amazing nurses and doctors, too. Once we landed in OB, where the staff could keep Sarah on the road to recovery and monitor the baby's health, we felt secure and listened to. People answered every question we could throw at them, and if they didn't know the answer, they helped us find it. We're very grateful to them.

Sarah is now home. She's tired and feeling weak, but the baby seems to be doing well (moving and kicking and dancing around, just like Hattie did) and Sarah's been eating meals and downing fluids.

February, however, had more in store. While Sarah's digestive issues were finally settling down, our property management company called to tell us the owners of our rental decided to see if the house will sell in this market. Realtors have been calling my recuperating wife to try to set up times to show the house to prospective buyers. I'm not thrilled with this.

Next year, we'd like to go back to the crummy Valentine's Day if it means a less-crazy rest of the month.

(Hattie, by the way, spent the week with grandparents. As she was preparing to leave for an as-yet-undetermined number of days, I loaded her into her carseat and tried to explain that I didn't know when I'd see her again. I kissed her goodbye and asked her if she wanted to sing a song with me. Her response: "No. Close the door.")

'Change has come to WhiteHouse.gov'

2009-01-21T11:45:00.000-08:00

Have you seen the new home of the White House on the Web? It's really slick.

In addition to the sorts of bells and whistles the average citizen would expect to find (bios of past presidents, a place to sign up for e-mail updates), there's a blog. Our government blogs. Unfortunately, the editor in me says, our government also makes typos.

Call me a nitpicker if you must, but I believe that clean copy speaks well of any organization. A shiny new Internet presence should be typo-free, especially considering that the new-and-improved WhiteHouse.gov is the online face of the U.S. Government in general, and the new President Barack Obama administration in particular.

The first gaffe that caught my eye is a small one in the new blog's introduction by Director of New Information for the White House Macon Phillips: "Our initial new media efforts will center around three priorities:"

Again, call me what you will, but that should either say "center on three priorities" or "circle around three priorities." It's a minor error that would only bother someone like me, but it wasn't the last one I spotted.

A description of the "Executive Office of the President" reads, in part: "To provide the President with the support the he or she needs ... " The he or she?

I found both of the mistakes in just a couple minutes of casual browsing.

Maybe I've set my hopes too high on what the new administration can accomplish. After all, a misapplied phrase here or proofreading hiccup there isn't the end of the Free World, and focusing attention on the recent happenings in, say, Gaza is certainly time best spent. But if there's a director whose whole job is to direct new media, I hope he hires a good copy editor.

(On a related note, check out my Book Typos blog. A recent Barnes and Noble purchase yielded a gold mine of errors.)

How Much Did That Talking Crosswalk Cost?

2009-01-08T15:02:00.000-08:00

blind person to sighted friend: "I really hate this intersection. That voice creeps me out."

Another Halfpenny in the Jar

2008-12-19T01:07:00.000-08:00

So an absence of any November posts from me at Halfpenny Orchestra pretty much scrapped my nascent efforts to contribute to the site at least once a month. But December is not yet out, and I successfully (though perhaps foolishly ... it's 1 a.m.) wrote a rant about recent Pulitzer winners and their cavalier-yet-cliche disregard for grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure.
Going to bed now. Not looking forward to working tomorrow. Am regretting my efforts already.

They Didn't Have Light Bulbs Back Then

2008-12-14T17:17:00.001-08:00

As soon as Dec. 1 rolls around, I begin listening to Christmas music. It's a vice that I refrain from 11 months out of the year, so I feel that a little over-indulgence is warranted, no matter what my co-workers think.

A couple years ago, I discovered Pandora, an Internet radio station that (in theory) selects tunes based on a sort of "music genome" experiment that finds commonalities between tunes or artists and plays songs that fit those parameters. I've heard some stuff I probably wouldn't have listened to otherwise, and I've liked it. I also like that there's a holiday feature, which keeps the Christmas tunes rolling.

The downside is that it's just some sort of equation picking each song, meaning I can hear three different versions of "Frosty the Snowman" back to back. The upshot is discovering lyrics like this:

Ella Fitzgerald, singing about Rudolph's nose: "They say if you ever saw it, you would even say it glows."

Bing Crosby, speaking: "Like a hot radish."

If wishes were tarpans ...

2008-12-04T21:52:00.000-08:00

Last night, while reading a Wired article about "rewilding" areas that have been depleted of megafauna, I realized that "megafauna" is one of my favorite words. Generally, it refers to animals that weigh more than 100 pounds, but it's most commonly used to describe extinct massive mammals, like mastodons and the like.

Today, I came across the phrase "charismatic megafauna," which, contrary to how it may sound, doesn't refer to smilodons who speak in tongues. The term is applied to giant pandas and other fuzzy beasts that give a cuddly face to environmental movements. For instance, polar bears have become the poster creatures for global warming issues.

And since I'm on the subject of charismatic megafauna, please take a moment to check out this book. It's on my Amazon wish list.

"Blood is a big expense."

2008-11-13T22:51:00.000-08:00

I was never a little girl, so I can't confirm the claim that the almost-life-size S'mores FurReal pony from Hasbro will truly "fulfill every little girl's dream of having her very own pony."

My wife and I were walking through Costco the other day when we came upon the 3-foot-tall animatronic beast. It's a bit frightening in person, but the best part is the caution on the side, which reads: "Assemble completely before giving to a child."

I have this mental image of a dad who didn't read the warning not understanding why his daughter woke up screaming on Christmas morning when she found the pony's head in bed next to her. Honestly, who would give their kid pony parts?

P.S.--There's a similar toy for boys, but it's a triceratops, because every little boy dreams of having his very own dinosaur. And that I can confirm.

Yet Another Piece of My Time

2008-10-27T22:58:00.000-07:00

I don't have loads of free time, but I do have a desire to be creative. And not just creative, but as productively creative as consistently as possible. Thus, Halfpenny Orchestra.

My friend Bret and I decided to record some music under that name a few years back when we began participating in the annual February Album Writing Month challenge. He registered the domain, but we never really found a use for it until now. We recently grabbed our friend James-- another guy who thinks enough like we do to be compatible, but different enough to make things exciting--and turned the website into a sort of public accountability circle for our endeavors.

The goal is for each of us to regularly post something original (a story or photo or essay or critique or what have you) each week. That's the goal. Realistically, at least for now, it may be each month. But hopefully as we're spurred on or spurned on or whatever, we'll increase our output.

We've each already written one post, but didn't feel like that was enough to announce to the world. Now, I've actually written a second post.

The cork is out of the bottle.

You Know You Have to Pay for Them Here, Right?

2008-10-25T23:28:00.000-07:00

Guy in Borders on his cell phone: "I'm at the library. I'll call you back."

Big news!

2008-10-15T13:20:00.000-07:00

Hattie has some big news to share over at her blog. Without giving too much away, it involves her being a big sister. Oh, wait, maybe that's too obvious ...

This is not an Ostrich

2008-10-13T23:23:00.000-07:00

We've taken several trips to Avila Valley Barn with Hattie recently. She loves looking at all of the animals, as do about a thousand other people, most of whom prove that we've come an irreparably long way from our agrarian past here in America.

I can understand, maybe, how people watching the emus call them ostriches. Maybe. But I have to shake my head at the people who call chickens ducks. Maybe these people just can't see or hear very well?

On our most recent trip to the barnyard, I witnessed two boys--maybe 8 or 9 years old--visiting the goat pen.
Boy 1: Look! Baby horses!
Boy 2: No, they're baby donkeys ... (this delivered in a voice thick with an undercurrent of "duh!")
(My wife added that another boy I didn't hear came up and identified the goats as little camels.)

While visiting the emus, I also overheard a mom explaining to her 3-year-old how dinosaurs turned into large, flightless birds and another telling her kid to keep his hands away from the chicken wire: "They'll peck your fingers off." These aren't necessarily comments made in ignorance; they just made me laugh.

I'm generally torn when I visit a place like Avila Valley Barn. I am aware that I am a parent of a young child and a member of the visiting crowd, yet I still find myself frustrated with the parents and the crowds, wishing they weren't out and about like I am--or at least that they would act civilized. Bill Buford writes in Among the Thugs, "The crowd is not us. It never is." I shake my head at the pushing and shoving and inane, shouted comments, but later wonder whether people were shaking their heads at me when I, for example, technically cut in line to buy ice cream with the Rookses. And I hate it when people cut in lines.

Maybe I'm a hypocrite. Maybe I'm an elitist, even though I despise entitlement. Whatever I am, here's a picture of Hattie with a baby horse:

When We Were Very Young

2008-09-03T22:47:00.000-07:00

This photo of Hattie reminded me of an illustration from A.A. Milne's poem "Corner-of-the-Street," but it reminded me of the text to "Lines and Squares":

Whenever I walk in a London street,
I'm ever so careful to watch my feet,
And I keep in the squares,
And the masses of bears,
Who wait at the corners all ready to eat
The sillies who treat on the lines of the street,
Go back to their lairs,
And I say to them, "Bears,
Just look how I'm walking in all of the squares!"

Overheard at Bel Frites

2008-08-27T23:34:00.000-07:00

With apologies to this blog's younger or more sensitive readers, here's a line from an interesting late-night/very-early-morning conversation I recently had with a random stranger at downtown SLO's Bel Frites, a restaurant that serves only fries, dipping sauces, and Belgian beer.

Obviously drunk guy: These fries are the best thing to happen to me all night, and I got laid earlier.

No more Sunny Baudelaire

2008-08-18T22:19:00.000-07:00

For quite some time--months now--Hattie Rose has resembled the youngest Baudelaire orphan from the popular children's book series. She has had four teeth that, though not particularly sharp, she's used for biting. Her favorite thing to crunch is ice, which she asks for by name along with a vigorous head nod and chest rub to indicate "yes please, and how."

In the span of the last week and a half or so, Hattie seems to have been getting in at least six new teeth. Finally! Maybe, once her teeth are in, she'll stop shrieking for an hour and a half when Sarah tries to get her to go to sleep. Her gums don't seem to bother her when she's awake and playing, but as soon as the lights go dim and she's confined to a bed, she starts. In fact, I hear her right now.

Maybe she's just stubborn? I mean, both of her parents can kind of sort of be a little willful sometimes ...

Old MacDonald Got Confused

2008-08-01T19:35:00.000-07:00

I found this graffiti at a bus stop at Cuesta College.

The Wheels on the Car ...

2008-07-28T20:45:00.000-07:00

Our four-door Honda Civic hit 100,000 miles on the way back from to SLO from Fresno. Neither Sarah nor myself could recall ever having visited the lovely city before. This particular Fresnic journey was to see Sarah's brother Deven perform in a Steppenwolf play (he had a role that Gary Sinise originated) at Fresno State's Summer Arts program, and we also visited our friends the Ischs. Isches? Ischi? Jeremy and Leslie.

It's no San Luis Obispo, but Fresno wasn't as bad as everyone always makes it out to be. It was about 100 degrees outside, but it felt more like upper 90s. We'd go back.

Overheard in Atascadero

2008-07-14T23:08:00.001-07:00

So the "Overheard in San Luis Obispo" posts that I'll be sharing with you occasionally actually apply to the whole county. This most recent dialog comes from our recent visit to the Charles Paddock Zoo in Atascadero on their Ice Cream Zoofari night. Something about the taste of vanilla sundaes and sprinkles mixed with the scent of serval urine didn't quite work for me.

The setting for this quote is early evening. A Channel Island fox has just come out of his lair and is inquisitively looking at guests eating ice cream.

Woman: Why does that fox look all healthy and chubby?
(A family member begins, somehow, to answer this question by explaining that zoo animals are often well cared for.)
Woman: (Disdainfully) How much you want to bet that when they rescued it from somewhere it was skinny?

Editor's note: I know that the animal pictured with this post isn't a Channel Island fox. The photos of the fox didn't turn out well.

Man vs. Nature

2008-07-12T10:27:00.000-07:00

It's one of the basic conflicts in narrative literature, right up there with Man vs. Self and Man vs. Society.

This morning, when Sarah settled onto our futon to check her e-mail, she noticed an ant in the carpet. Then another one. Then another. And another. Soon, we had traced a trail--right across a pile of clean, folded laundry--to cracks in our fireplace and bookshelves. We're not sure to what they were making a trail: that damp rag? that It's-It wrapper we accidentally missed while cleaning up from dinner last night? that empty container of Gerber Graduates Finger Foods Peach Puffs that Hattie uses as a drum? There were ants here and there on all of those things, but they mostly looked like they were still deciding where they were going to concentrate their efforts. Nothing had been settled on.

We immediately began shaking out the clothes outside, when I noticed that our lawn was overrun with weeds: dandelions, black murdoch, and more I can't identify. Obviously, weeds like that don't spring up overnight--or maybe they do. While Sarah treated all of the ant entryways with clove oil and vacuumed the carpet, I hunkered down on the grass and tried to rip out as many unwanted plants as I could by the roots. Hattie chose to help me with chores by tearing off leaves from the tallest offenders.

After we'd been at our gardening endeavors for a while, a shadow fell across us. Then again. And again. I looked up to see a turkey vulture circling us. It was quite low in the sky--unlike the ants, it seemed to have made a decision about what it wanted to eat. I scooped up Hattie and went inside.

By early afternoon, as I type this, the ants have been evicted, the lawn is mostly grass again, and the turkey vulture is gone. Still, I feel that nature got the upper hand today. I hope that nothing goes wrong when we go to the Charles Paddock Zoo in Atascadero this evening.

No, Really, Summer is for Blogging

2008-07-09T22:34:00.000-07:00

A couple weeks back, I declared that I post too infrequently on this blog. Then I promptly continued to not post on this blog.
So, in the true spirit of pressing forward or stabbing westward or whatever, I'm diligently adding another chapter to the chronicle.
Actually, this post will serve as more of a window into other sites that occupy my time, and will thereby also serve as more of window into my soul.
Late last year, I began another blog, a secret blog, on which I keep track of typos I find in books I read. I've kept it mostly under wraps for a while, mainly because most of the books I read are fantasy novels aimed at young adults. If you ask me what I'm reading now, I'll probably tell you The Bottom Billion: Why the Poorest Countries are Failing and What Can Be Done About It by Oxford Professor of Economics Paul Collier, which is technically true, but for every two pages I progress in that book, I read approximately three other books in which the main character discovers he has magical abilities, befriends some sort of talking animal or inanimate object, or both.
Anyway, you can find my other blog at Book Typos. It's not perfect, so don't think you're clever pointing out mistakes on my blog pointing out other people's mistakes.
My other recent find is GoodReads, on which you can track what books I've read, am reading, and plan to read, as well as all of that information for various friends of mine. You should join up, too. It's like LibraryThing meets some social networking site that I won't name here.
And if you do checkout my reading proclivities, please don't make fun of me for plowing through the Twilight series.

The Audacity of Hope

2008-06-23T11:21:00.000-07:00

It's June--almost July, actually--and I've decided that summer is for blogging. Truth be told, I've been using some of my time off to catch up on friends' blogs, and I've realized that my own attempts have been less than ... frequent.
I started this blog shortly after Hattie was born, just about a year ago, and my hope for this next year is that I'll contribute more. Sarah, too.

Overheard in San Luis Obispo

2008-06-18T22:15:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite Websites is Overheard in New York. If you've never seen it, it's basically a regular collection of quotes that people, you know, overhear in New York. San Luis Obispo is a far cry from the Big Apple, but I hear things. Today, for instance, I passed a homeless woman I see around town sometimes on a bench outside of my office. She was holding a Bible close to her face, fanning the pages, but looking around shiftily. As I passed her, she looked at me and said, "If your name is Satan, begone!

Happy Mother's Day!

2008-05-10T22:39:00.000-07:00

Hattie and I worked hard to put this sign-card together for Mother's Day, Sarah's first since Hattie was born. Actually, I worked hard to hold Hattie still enough near the sign for a picture, and Hattie worked hard at squirming away or grabbing the paper and throwing it over her shoulder.

Happy Mother's Day to an amazing mom, my wife, Sarah. And to our moms, Hattie's grandmothers, LaVona Miller and Sue Simonson.

Happy Birthday!

2008-03-04T13:39:00.001-08:00

March 1 was Grandma Miller's birthday. Here are some of the fun times Hattie has had with her recently ...

Hattie learns to type

2008-01-16T09:35:00.001-08:00

A couple of nights ago, Hattie managed to cruise across the hearth and discover Ryan's vintage Underwood typewriter. She spent about 20 minutes carefully pushing a key, then reaching to touch the letter that popped up in response to her actions. She approached the typewriter with awe, curiosity, and respect, never banging on the keys or playing with it they way she does with other toys. She is truly Daddy's little girl.

Plastic bread and circuses

2008-01-03T21:50:00.000-08:00

I really, really love Playmobil people. I have a Playmobil pirate and a Playmobil mummy that "unwraps" to reveal a Playmobil pharaoh.

Playmobil figures and sets are the bright paradoxes of the toy world. They manage to be detailed in their simplicity. Practically every character has blank, staring eyes, a fingernail crescent of a smile, and C-shaped hands--and women tend to sport uniform under-eye lashes--but the variety of "costumes" and snap-on accessories is fairly staggering. The themes range from the typical farm, zoo, and rescue team cliches to scaled-down sports arenas, sea ports, and a "leisure" category that boasts little plastic people sunbathing on a yacht (the Blue Marlin), racing around on jet skis and ATVs, and picnicking outside of a family camper. Anyone who's checked Commonplace in December might remember that we own a Playmobil nativity set, something that, I believe, Lego has yet to produce.

Tom's Toys, a shop in downtown San Luis Obispo, usually has a Playmobil set of some sort or another featured in its window. For the last month or two, the set-up has been sitting under a banner that says something along the lines of "The Triumphant Procession of the Romans."

Hattie's 6-Month Birthday

2007-12-17T14:43:00.001-08:00

To celebrate Hattie's 6-month birthday we had our friends the Rookses and the Lundeens over to enjoy some food, wine, and my favorite Christmas movie, White Christmas. Natalie, Soren, and Hattie enjoyed crawling around and playing together (or at least near each other). In honor of the movie, I created an all-white menu. Sorry, no pictures this time. We enjoyed gorgonzola and carmelized onion tartlets, Italian white bean and sausage soup, bread, salad (technically that was green), white wine, and hard apple cider. For dessert: rum balls (which I rolled in powdered sugar), hot cider, and mulled wine. The food was not as striking as our all-black Halloween menu, but it was just as tasty!

Andrea made Hattie an adorable hat for her birthday. I had mentioned the other day that Ryan wanted Hattie to have a hat with ear flaps. My talented friend went home and invented a pattern for one, complete with ties that have become Hattie's new favorite chew toy. Thank you Andrea!

Hattie's Own Blog

2007-12-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

There are too many adorable pictures of Hattie that don't fit within the no-color policy for this blog, so I started a blog just for Hattie. It is called The Adventures of Hattie Rose. Here I will chronicle her milestones and try to keep photos updated. I'm starting at the beginning with her birth. It might take me awhile to catch up with where she is now, but I'll get there.

Christmas Meme

2007-12-04T10:18:00.000-08:00

Daja tagged me to write about Christmas by answering a set of pre-written questions about the holiday. If you want to learn about how I celebrate with my family and friends, read on. (Spoiler alert: Eggnog is involved.)

1. Wrapping paper or gift bags?

Wrapping paper, color-coded by who the gift is for (my side of the family, Ryan's side of the family, and friends) to make sorting easier.

2. Real or fake tree?

Real. Even in our tiny apartment we had a real tree that was no taller than 2 feet!

3. When do you put up the tree?

When we have time to go together to choose one. Usually in the first couple of weeks of December.

4. When do you take the tree down?

We left one up so long that I re-decorated it for Valentine's Day!

5. Do you like eggnog?

I love it, but am very picky about it. My favorite is Strauss Family Creamery Organic Eggnog. It's not too sweet or too thick.

6. Favorite gift received as a child?

Once, when my Dad was unemployed and money was tight, my mom made us all rice socks--just festive toe socks filled with rice that could be microwaved (a huge blessing in a house with no central heat). Though I have had several replacement rice socks and bags since then, I still keep that one because it reminds me of how special that Christmas was and how much the Lord blessed us during that time.

7. Do you have a nativity scene?

Five, actually. I have a hand-carved wooden one that was given to me as a high school graduation gift from the parents of one of my sister's friends. There's also a glittery traditional one given to us as a wedding gift by the worship director of the church Ryan and I grew up in; a Vietnamese one with people who look like thimbles that Ryan gave me last December 1 (the day we always set up our nativities); a Playmobil nativity that I got for our then-not-yet-born baby last Christmas; and, finally, an African nativity made from banana leaves that Ryan got for us for this December 1. Ryan wants to collect nativities from around the world and hopes to get a new one every year.

8. Hardest person to buy for?
Bret Rooks.

9. Easiest person to buy for?
Ryan. I end up finding so may great presents around Christmas time that I put a few away for his birthday in January.

10. Worst Christmas gift you ever received?
Some "lump of coal" jelly beans from a former employer in lieu of a Christmas bonus or even paid time off for Christmas day.

11. Mail or e-mail Christmas cards?

We will be mailing our first Christmas cards this year (kind of a requirement now that we have a baby).

12. Favorite Christmas movie?

White Christmas. I love the music and cry every single time I watch it.

13. When do you start shopping for Christmas?

December of the previous year. I always stock up on stocking stuffers at the after-Christmas sales. I also make a point of going to the end-of-summer sales in June to finish my stocking-stuffer shopping.

14. Have you ever recycled a Christmas present?

Yes.

15. Favorite thing to eat at Christmas?

Fondue on Christmas eve, and Ryan's chocolate chipotle cookies with hot chocolate made from scratch.

16. Clear lights or colored on the tree?

There can never be too many clear lights!

17. Favorite Christmas song?

O, Holy Night (especially when Ryan sings it).

18. Travel at Christmas or stay home?

Travel.

19. Can you name all of Santa's reindeer?

Yes.

20. Angel on the tree top or a star?

Star. I don't really like most depictions of angels.

21. Open the presents Christmas Eve or morning?

I guess both. We open presents with Ryan's parents on Christmas Eve morning and my family on Christmas morning. Ryan and I usually open our presents for each other on Christmas night.

22. Most annoying thing about this time of year?

The song Frosty the Snow Man.

23. What I love most about Christmas?

It is SO romantic! I also love purposefully and consciously preparing for Christmas through celebrating Advent.

Now, I tag Flo and Jen.

Baby junk food

2007-11-28T12:18:00.000-08:00

I have been very proud of the fact that through my entire pregnancy--and the first few months of Hattie's life--we have avoided getting on any mailing lists for baby junk mail. However, a couple of weeks after applying for her birth certificate, when she was 3 1/2 months old, the mail began to arrive (it kind of makes you wonder what the government is doing with your personal information). Yesterday I arrived home to find a large, brightly colored box on my front porch. It was clearly from a formula company. The outside of the box contained the following messages, aimed at families with children 9 to 24 months:

"The fact is: Many toddlers aren't getting adequate nutrition." "He's growing--and so are his nutritional needs. Will milk keep up?" "The fact is, milk lacks some key nutrients toddlers need. Next Step LIPIL gives you a better alternative."

The clear implication to both Ryan and me after reading the outside of the box is that you are depriving your older infant of valuable nutrients by breastfeeding, and only this formula can provide proper nutrition for them.

In my anger and frustration, I opened the box to do some further investigation. Upon reading the fine print of the package insert (and what average person reads the fine print?), I found that the company is actually comparing their formula to cows' milk, not human milk--but at first and second glance you would never know that. The nutrients that this "toddler formula" claims to provide are Vitamin C, iron, Vitamin E, and DHA and ARA--all nutrients that are abundant in breast milk and healthy whole foods. Also, a closer look at the packaging reveals that those nutrients make up less than one percent of the total ingredients.

The ingredient list itself is printed in the tiniest font on the can of formula. It reads as follows (with my comments in parenthesis): nonfat milk (babies need fat for brain development), vegetable oil (probably to add fat), CORN SYRUP (gross!), and 29 other ingredients (yes I counted them) I cannot pronounce. They want people to put this garbage into the body of a baby!

On the package insert, they compare the nutritional content of the formula to several "commonly consumed" toddler foods. These foods were macaroni and cheese and chicken sticks, with nutritional figures that reflect the highly processed and pre-packaged variety. Again I say gross! I'm sure that comparing this formula to anything actually considered real food would leave the formula looking very poor indeed.

The whole thing just made me sad and angry at the state of our world--that something that can hardly be called nutrition is being sent directly to people's front doors and freely marketed as superior to good food choices. There is absolutely nothing that is nutritionally superior to breast milk and healthy solid foods for older infants and toddlers.

The real fact is that breast milk constantly adapts and changes to provide for every nutritional need of a baby from birth through toddlerhood and beyond, as well as provides support for their immune system.

What is worse, this formula costs $23 per can. Breast milk is free.

I suppose the only good thing that resulted from this mysterious package arriving at our door is that Hattie loved playing with the colorful cardboard box (which I can recycle after it has been appropriately chewed and mauled).

The end of the world as we know it

2007-11-27T16:27:00.000-08:00

We arrived home Saturday night from visiting our wonderful families for Thanksgiving. After Hattie expressed much delight at being in our own home again, we placed her on the floor to play while Ryan and I unpacked an organized the house. Ryan called me from the other room and we both witnessed Hattie CRAWLING for the first time. She was chasing her red ball around the living room. She can now get anywhere she wants to go using her low to the ground combat-style crawl (technically, in the child development world, hands and knees crawling is called creeping). She can move surprisingly quickly when she is motivated. So, we spent Sunday cleaning and beginning to baby proof our house. This is the first time we have lived in a house large enough for a full sized Christmas tree and, now, gone are my hopes of having at least one Christmas without a mobile baby interested in touching, exploring, and pulling on everything.

To me, the transition to a mobile baby is scarier than transitioning from no baby to having a baby. Yes, Hattie changed our lives tremendously the moment she was born, but now she is changing our house. Ryan's beloved books will need to be moved out of arms' reach (and that reach will only get higher in the coming months), furniture that can easily topple must be removed completely, outlets must be covered and cords hidden, floors vacuumed and mopped much more regularly. I can no longer leave Hattie to play on the floor while I do the laundry, cook dinner, or run to the bathroom. She has already developed that bizarre baby ability to bypass the toys meant for her in order to find and insert into her mouth the one potentially harmful thing that I forgot to move off the floor (yesterday it was the phone book).

So, yes, this is the end of the world as we know it, but I'm sure the unknown and the joy of watching Hattie learn and grow will be far more rewarding that the comfort of everything being the same.

Avila Valley Barn

2007-11-14T10:03:00.001-08:00

We went to Avila Valley barn this weekend with friends visiting from out of town. It was nice to be there without all of the crowds before Halloween. The kids loved the animals, even Hattie was smiling and kicking when she looked at the goats, emus, and ponies. Here are some photos of our adventures. Just chillin on some gourds.

It's a bird, it's a plane....

Hattie thinks her friend Nate is SO funny!

Delicious corn.

Ella the wild child!

8 (Other) Random Thoughts About My Kitchen

2007-11-07T20:23:00.000-08:00

Sarah tagged me to write eight random thoughts about my kitchen, which is technically her kitchen. But I do visit it occasionally ...

1) We have two whole shelves devoted to nothing but tea, from Orange Dulce to Rooibos Chai. One day a few years back, we decided to become tea people, and have stocked up on the stuff ever since. We have black tea, green tea, white tea, red tea, tisanes ("teas" made without actual tea leaves ... basically anything floral or herbal or whatever), and a bundle of dried plants that Sarah calls "Greek Mountain Tea," though I've never seen her use it to make a drink.

2) Our freezer is stocked with Otter Pops. There's not much else to say about this one, aside from the personal slogan I developed for the product in college: "Otter Pops ... That's something my body needs anyway."

3) I keep the clock on the microwave set 10 minutes fast. For some reason, I enjoy looking at a clock and knowing that it's not really as late as the clock says it is.

4) When I was but a fresh-faced young lad, my dad cooked me pancakes practically every Saturday morning (and other times too, but the Saturdays were the best), and I've unofficially adopted Saturday mornings as the times I cook breakfast for Sarah. She--ahem--doesn't really like pancakes, but she does like scrambled eggs and omelets, so I oblige by making scrambled eggs and omelets that turn into scrambled eggs. I'm just not good at making omelets, but I still try.

5) When I cook, I cool by smell. This is not technically a thought limited to my kitchen in particular, but it's close enough. Sarah cooks by what "feels right." I use my nose, mainly for spices.

6) We have several different types of cheese graters, and since I enjoy grating cheese--it's so satisfying to watch that pile grow!--I'm almost always the one who shreds our cheddar or Monterey Jack or Gouda or what-have-you . My grater of choice features four sides, each with a different grating option, but I only ever use one side.

7) We have a cabinet in which we keep all manner of liquors (Kahlua, Irish cream, etc.), but I keep a few bottles used most often on top of the refrigerator: vodka, rum, and Scotch (which I drink neat).

8) I have long been fascinated by empty glass bottles, and our kitchen window sill is lined with samples of all shapes and sizes. There used to be more bottles, but I broke one or two when closing the window once.

Now, I tag Bret. And James Van Lommel, if he ever sees this.

The baby sits up

2007-11-06T09:48:00.000-08:00

Last night Ryan called me from across the room to look at Hattie. He had been supporting her in a sitting position on the floor and let go for a moment to see what she would do. She sat there for about one minute, just looking back and forth between us like she wanted to say, "What are you getting all excited about? This is no big deal." Then she toppled to the side and began reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle. She refused to sit up again so we could take pictures, so here she is reading.

"On Tuesday he ate through two pears, but he was still hungry."

Maybe I want to eat this book ...

"He was a beautiful butterfly!"

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

2007-11-02T15:34:00.000-07:00

(Hattie as Edgar Allen Poe's "The Raven" chewing on her favorite natural wood teether.)

Though we have barely blown out the candles in our jack-o-lanterns, we are beginning to get the inevitable "What do you want for Christmas?" questions from friends and family. For everyone's convenience, and because Sarah constantly misplaces the long list of books that Ryan wants, we have each created an Amazon wish list. Feel free to browse it for ideas, or even just ignore it.

Hattie's list is the default, but links to Ryan's and Sarah's lists are on the sidebar on the left-hand side of the web page. Just click here to get to our wish lists.

When Hattie was 1 week old, Lisa Maksoudian took some beautiful pictures of her. We were unable to purchase all of the pictures we wanted, but Lisa has a list of the photos we would love to have if someone wants to get them for us. She can be contacted at lisa@lisamaksoudian.com for more information.

Hattie really loves the toys and other products from Nova Natural Toys (where we purchased the teether pictured above), especially since we're trying to become a plastic-free home! She also has a wish list at A Toy Garden. We just discovered that they have the cheapest naturally dyed play silks which are another one of Hattie's favorite toys. She carries her piece of silk around with her everywhere!

We hope this helps answer some questions, but of course we don't need any of it. The thing that is most important to us is to spend time with family and friends this holiday season, to make joyful memories and create our own family traditions.

What do YOU want for Christmas?

Ghoulish Dinner

2007-11-01T16:37:00.000-07:00

In our excitement to finally live in a house where we might get trick-or-treaters we stayed home and invited friends over for Halloween this year. While we only had two knocks at the door all night, I had a wonderful time preparing a spooky dinner.

Ryan and I have long established Halloween as a gift-giving holiday (I think we just like excuses to get each other presents). This year, Ryan gave me my gift a little early so that I would have time to figure out how to prepare it. My gift was squid ink pasta. It looks and tastes like regular spaghetti, but it is made black using squid ink. Inspired by his gift, I gave myself the culinary challenge of creating an all-black meal. It was quite a success!

Here was our menu:
Appetizers (in the photo above): black grapes, porter soaked cheddar cheese with pumpernickel toasts, spiderweb eggs (below), and pumpkin seeds.

Dinner: Squid ink pasta with pesto, prosciutto, and mozarella-and-olive "eyeballs," salad, bread, and a blood-red black currant and brandy cocktail (I tried desperately to find black vodka for the occasion, but apparently it is on back order at the two stores in town that carry it).

Dessert: Pumpkin oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (my first baking from scratch since before I was pregnant with Hattie), and Trader Joe's ice cream sandwiches rolled in mini-chocolate chips. I probably could have done better creating a black dessert, but I was more focused on the dinner foods.

The evening was rounded out by watching the original Night of the Living Dead, in black and white, of course!

Adventures in Pumpkin Carving

2007-10-30T11:01:00.000-07:00

Last night around 9:30 we realized we had yet to carve our pumpkins for Halloween. We decided to start carving even though we would be up late. Ryan covered our kitchen table in an old newspaper, made me a cup of tea, and started designing his pumpkin. My favorite task is picking the seeds out of the pumpkin guts and roasting them, I was able to do that for about 3 minutes before Hattie needed to nurse, but after awhile she decide to help. Here are some pictures of our first jack-o-lantern carving as a family of three...

Hattie playing with pumpkin guts- she is her mother's daughter!

Hattie is the Great Pumpkin!

Ryan's Masterpiece

Sarah's Masterpiece

8 Random Thoughts About My Kitchen

2007-10-29T11:18:00.000-07:00

I have been tagged by Andrea to share about my kitchen.

1) My counters are pink and brown tile (my current favorite color combination for just about anything). They are probably the original tiles that were put in the house when it was built in the 50’s. So retro and totally feminine, I love it!

2) Like Flo, I wear an apron whenever I cook (and most of every day actually). In the summer of 2006 Ryan's mom created the “Apron of the Month Club” for me. At the beginning of each month a package would arrive in the mail containing a unique hand-made apron of her own design. I now have a different apron for every month. The apron I am currently using has jack-o-lanterns on it, a full skirt, and a pocket large enough to fill with candy for trick-or-treaters (she thinks of everything).

3) Our kitchen does not have a built in dishwasher. While I was in labor with Hattie, Ryan's parents bought and set up a stand alone dishwasher in our kitchen. It has been such a blessing!

4) I love washing dishes (even in my pre-dishwasher years), but I hate putting them away. On more than one occasion I have left clean dishes in the dishwasher until it “emptied itself” because we used all the dishes directly from the dishwasher.

5) I tend to be very ecologically minded and try not to create unnecessary waste. My one splurge is aluminum foil. I despise washing large baking sheets and big pans (especially if they are greasy); I always line them with aluminum foil so that I can just throw the mess away.

6) I have one drawer in my kitchen that has nothing in it. I am tempted occasionally to fill it, but it is kind of luxurious feeling just to know that it is there.

7) The house came with a vintage O’Keefe and Merritt oven. It is small and not very pretty, but it cooks food more efficiently than any other oven I have ever used. Unfortunately the door to the broiler fell off in my hand when I tried to use it for the first time a few weeks ago. Because replacement parts are so hard to find (and expensive) our property managers plan to replace it. I will be sad to see it go, but am also excited to have a new oven! It is probably for the best since Hattie will be crawling soon and the doors on the old oven get really hot.

8) While I recently switched to using my own home made cleaners in our house, I stumbled upon Method’s Cinnamon Bark all-purpose cleaner last week and had to try it. I have been using it to clean my kitchen counters and it makes the whole house smell like I have been baking all day, even though I have not baked a thing in over a year (unless you count Trader Joes pre-formed frozen cookie dough).

I tag Ryan, Jen , Jesse & Kelly

Sarah's First Post

2007-10-24T09:29:00.000-07:00

We have not posted a thing since Hattie was 5 weeks old. Ryan just taught me how to post on our blog, so hopefully I will be able to update it more regularly.

Hattie is 4 months old now. She loves to laugh, wiggle, and chew on toys. She is rolling over and trying desperately to crawl (mommy and daddy are hoping it takes her a few months to figure this out). She is fascinated by turning the pages of books, I think she has already developed Ryan's love of reading!

Here are some recent pictures of Hattie Rose. There are a few more I want to add, but Ryan has a strict "no color" rule for this blog, so I'll have to figure out how to convert them to black and white first.

Chewing on blanket

Hattie at Avila Valley Barn

Innocents abroad

2007-07-22T18:51:00.000-07:00

Hattie joined us for the longest road trip of her life when we drove to Santa Barbara to attend the wedding of our friends Peter Michealsen and Xanthy Chu. Unsure as to how our five-week-old would handle the drive, we steeled ourselves for as many pit stops as necessary and began our journey a couple of hours earlier than necessary.

Much to our surprise (and delight), Hattie took the whole trip in stride. In fact, she seems to enjoy outings. She stays calm (usually) when buckled into her car seat, stares with wide-eyed wonder at new places, and curls comfortably into strangers' arms. Strangers to her, that is. They're our friends.

To be honest, Sarah and I were a tad apprehensive about the event. I knew Peter and Xanthy through Intervarsity at Cal Poly, and alumni weddings tend to double as reunions that stretch far into the night. While I reconnected with plenty of friends I hadn't seen in a while at the Michealsen-Chu affair, the ceremony and reception together clocked in at a neat five-and-a-half hours. It was the perfect length for a baby-toting couple.

We had tentatively planned to stay the night with some friends of Peter's family, but the success of the trip down inspired us to brave a drive back. Despite one minor crying episode, the return was as uneventful as the departure.

The wedding itself was a mix of East and West. While the ceremony stuck to fairly standard U.S fare (white dress, men in suits, etc.), the reception reflected Xanthy's Hong Kong roots, with the new bride in red and the groom in a custom-made black outfit to match. He's a Swede and fairly tall, so I think the style was adapted a bit for his frame. Still, the effect was impressive, especially when they danced to Paul Simon's "Something So Right."

The visitor

2007-07-22T18:30:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday night, as I was wrapping up hanging out with my friend Bret, we found a large, striped beetle crawling in the driveway in front of his house. It slugglishly trundled along, then split its back open to reveal wings and rise dramatically into the air ... and then straight into a wall. It repeated this several times. Not wanting to see it bash itself senseless, we corraled it into a Ziploc container and I drove it home to photodocument it and release it into the wilds of my backyard.

Upon closer examination, I discovered that it had given itself a sort of insect equivalent of a bloody nose. I also found that it had swiveling horns and a fuzzy underside. My wife decided it was a cross between a gremlin and an animal she can't remember now. Possibly a lemur. It did seem to be a mix of several different bugs, but I seriously doubt it had any true mogwai ancestry. To play everything totally safe, we made sure it didn't get wet.

After the photo shoot, I released the beetle onto one of several lawns behind our house. I watched it crawl slowly in a random direction and bid it farewell. A few minutes later, it reappeared at our kitchen window, climbing the screen in an attempt to rejoin our family. As touching a gesture as that was, I decided to recapture it and release it on the side of the house, where tempting fluorescent lights wouldn't it lure it back with false promises of whatever it is beetles long for inside human habitations.

I haven't seen it since.

Picture this

2007-06-23T20:50:00.000-07:00

After several dozen photo shoots under my decidedly rookie eye (have you checked out the link to my photos over on the right?) Hattie participated in her first-ever professional photo shoot on June 22. Lisa Maksoudian (an award-winning photographer who, among other commendations, took best of show in the 2006 New Times photo contest) came to our house for a multi-hour session, and posted a sneak peak at some of the results on her image blog. See them at lisamaksoudian.bigfolioblog.com. Hattie is the baby modeling under the pseudonym of "h" if you don't recognize her.

2007-06-20T21:01:00.000-07:00

Here's a larger shot of the two blankies.

Everything old is new again

2007-06-20T19:58:00.000-07:00

My dad announced that he had a surprise waiting for our new baby, so when Hattie was born, he gave us a "Happy Birthday" bag with his handiwork inside: A crocheted yellow blanket with a silk border. To the untrained eye, such a gift may seem like a typical baby present, but this particular item was unique for two reasons. The first: My dad crocheted the blanket himself, and my mom added the silk edge. The second: The blanket is a replica of Yellow Blankie, the essential bit of cloth that I clung to, Linus like, all through childhood. And junior high. And high school. And maybe a little in college. After almost three decades of constant wear and tear, Yellow Blankie was looking a bit worse for the wear. But now, there's a new blankie to carry the next generation of the Miller clan through her formative years. And maybe into her time as an undergrad. Thanks, Dad. (And Mom!)

Early elitism

2007-06-19T11:38:00.000-07:00

Never being one to start small (except, perhaps, in physical mass), Hattie's first encounter with the world of literature was Pablo Neruda's Las Odas, from a bilingual edition, Odes to Common Things, which was a wedding present from our friends Brian Leonard and Angela Barley. I would have thought she'd ease into reading with something lighter, like, say the collected works of Dr. Seuss, or something by Shel Silverstein, or maybe even Edward Lear's Complete Nonsense (a wedding gift from our friend Joel Short). But no. A scant 24 hours after she was born, she was listening to the Nobel laureate's "Ode to the Table." Here's an excerpt:

"The world

is a table

engulfed in honey and smoke,

smothered by apples and blood.

The table is already set,

and we know the truth

as soon as we are called:

whether we're called to war or dinner

we will have to choose sides,

have to know

how we'll dress

to sit

at the long table,

whether we'll wear the pants of hate

or the shirt of love, freshly laundered.

It's time to decide,

they're calling:

boys and girls,

let's eat!"

She obviously took this poem to heart: There was both honey and blood at her birth, and some apples in the background. I didn't see any smoke, though. She has since worn the shirt of love--many shirts of love, in fact, freshly laundered after each spit up. And she has heeded the call to the table with great gusto, sometimes eating for two hours at a stretch. Needless to say, Sarah has been tired from all of the late-night nursing sessions, but I'm happy to know that Hattie has been nourished in mind as well as body.

Hattie is here

2007-06-17T13:47:00.000-07:00

Harriet Rose Miller was born at 11:07 a.m. on June 14. She was 7 pounds, 1 ounce. She's four days old here, and we have no idea how much she weighs, though it's probably not too much more.