the baron and the husband have spent the better part of the past week rearranging their very small house to accommodate the arrival of their very small new family member. the doing of this - the rearranging - mostly entails the cleaning and purging of the office... here forward known as the baby's room.
the cleaning out of dark spaces is always good for surprises, and reminiscences, and memories of walks down rosehill drive. see the below video, from november 9, 2003.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
do androids dream of electric sheep?, or, baby's first playlist
there are big changes happening at the baron and the husband's house*, not the least of which has to do with the baby kicking forcefully enough to be felt by hands on the baron's belly. because the baron and the husband are original thinkers (wink, wink), and because the baby is at the stage where he can (supposedly) "experience" things outside the womb, they have lately been reading to him. 'shouts and murmurs' mostly, but also 'the westing game'. most recently, they've decided to introduce the baby to music; the baron fell asleep last night with a pair of huge headphones securely affixed to her big, big belly. baby's first playlist looks a little something like this:
good day sunshine (the beatles)
near wild heaven (rem)
shine a light (wolf parade)
find the river (rem)
country feedback (rem)
shine a light (the rolling stones)
dream operator (talking heads)
one fine day (david byrne & brian eno)
stay (faraway, so close) (u2)
the funeral (band of horses)
heroes (david bowie)
*other changes include a new roof, 9 new windows, a new refrigerator and stove, and a new car. it's been a busy month. also, this past weekend dumped a huge amount of snow on maryland. see photographic proof, below.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
camera ready, oh yes he is
readers,
the baron will post something soon. she promises.
in the meantime, see the husband, expertly hocking his social media wares, here.
the baron will post something soon. she promises.
in the meantime, see the husband, expertly hocking his social media wares, here.
Thursday, December 3, 2009
the long hello
reader, the baron has been scarce around these parts lately; she doesn't really have good reason for it. lots and lots of things have happened since last she checked in - but she doesn't really have the energy to fashion them into a pithy story. instead, can she just recount them for you, list-style?
-the husband left for egypt on november 22. he's having a time ('a time' being the average between 'a good time' and 'a lousy time', which are the two poles the baron can glean from his emails) traipsing up and down the country. evidently there are donkeys everywhere, and he'd kind of like to bring one home.
-the brother came for thanksgiving, arriving the wednesday before and leaving the monday after. the baron had high hopes that she'd be able to entertain him, or at least muster up the energy to get up and out of the house, but not so much with either of those things. they mostly sat on the sofa, watching season 1 of 'dexter', which the brother brought to the baron and the husband as a gift. the baron, having so far dodged 'dexter', was surprised to find that she liked it, so much so that they bought season 2.
-the baron had the 20 week sonogram this past monday. the husband could not attend, but the brother was able to, and the baron was glad: she did not want to go to the appointment alone, particularly when such big news was to be revealed. reader, the baron and the husband will soon be parents to a baby boy. yes, they have a name. no, they will not tell you. they think it's jinxy to share it just now.
-the baron and the husband have settled on their new car, though the purchase of this car is postponed until the husband is back from his trip. the baron, though she likes the honda pilot, is still having a hard time with its cost. and gas mileage. and size. and also, the husband? what's wrong with the crv again? can't we revisit it?
-the baron is lonely. or specifically, the baron is missing the husband, and the missing him makes her feel very, very lonely. internet connectivity is, evidently, spotty in egypt, so she's heard from him only intermittently. thus, she's been rereading some of their email exchanges, both from this trip and before, just to have a little electronic taste of him in absence of the real thing. the husband has a facebook page, and from it he sent her the below list of 25 things that he reported about himself. she likes reading these things about the husband, partly because she likes seeing him as he sees himself, and partly because she believes it's a supremely accurate representation of his awesomeness. read on to see for yourself:
1. I love a good fight. More precisely, I enjoy conflict -- especially a verbal argument that forces me to think about my position on something and have to defend my beliefs. Conflict is growth and the foundation of all natural processes. It isn't a bad thing. And I rarely care if I “win” the fight. I do get snarky when the fight is trivial and not worth it.
2. I was an avid reader until college beat it out of me. I still like to read, but not as much as my wife would like me to. New Yorker magazine helps as I am reluctant to pick up modern fiction and would rather keep rereading classics like a dork.
3. Used to blame PG county schools for a negative disposition towards public education –I would spend the odd (3,5, 7, 9, 11 ) years in TAG (Talented and Gifted) classes, and the even years in SLRD (Slow Learning and Reading Disabled) from elementary to high school. There was no “normal kid” class and I bounced from one end to the other because I tested well but was disruptive. As an adult, I realized this pendulum affords one variety and a depth of understanding most don’t have opportunity to see. Read – I can see from many perspectives.
4. I am physically clumsy, mostly because my mind and body tend to do separate functions (ask any drummer about this) at the same time. I was persistently clumsy as a youngin’ – so much so that a lot of what parents and teachers thought was “acting out” was in reality accidental mindlessness. It earned me a reputation as a temperamental and destructive person, which helped keep people from criticizing me for my clumsiness. So…it kinda works for me.
5. Went vegetarian in 1990 in part due to poverty, animal rights, bad memories of my mother's cooking and a faint idea of right behavior (reading a lot of Thoreau and watching Taxi Driver will do that). I went Vegan in 1992 for same reasons but with more education due to animal growth hormones in dairy as well as understanding of dairy industry practices. I am still vegan and keep finding things in diet that aren’t (Curse you Guinness!). I don’t lecture people or judge them on their choice to eat meat or not. It is antithetical to my beliefs to think I have a right to tell another person what they can do with their body (outside of not using it to hit me).
6. Never thought I would live past 18 -- those who knew me in high school know why. If not, read number 1 and number 4. Seriously, all this life since then is butter.
7. Was an altar boy and very religious until 12 when I became frustrated arguing with the dogmatic speeches of priests instead of having a dialogue with the church. Never had questions answered and have been more engaged in Taoism as a belief system for the past 15 years. For me, religious experience is about finding the right answers to the right questions and not about dogmatic repetition of unoriginal thoughts that are then used to judge others and limit how they use their time on the planet.
8. I grew up in Japan before moving to MD when I was 7. I have always had an affinity for Japan. I have a tendency to move at least every 2 years. This somehow answers a need for curiosity, but becomes costly. I now just accumulate more homes each time I move. (I am so looking forward to my tax rebate – that stuff is all deductible).
9. Lived in San Francisco and would live there again if could afford it. It is, in my opinion, the best city in the United States.
10. Want to retire to Samos ,Greece, were my grandmother came from. I can’t read, write or speak Greek. That stuff is hard! But am willing to learn to live an agrarian life on my own little farm with orange trees and goats.
11. I have been shot, stabbed, hit by cars, beaten by gangs with bats, struck by bottles and cigarettes thrown from vehicles and had an all around joy of being alive. I can laugh at all these things and isolate their occurrences from the individuals involved as part of what it means to be in the human experience. Most likely, I had all of those things coming anyhow.
12. I have totaled 6 cars so far...reference item number 4. (Don’t let me borrow your car.)
13. Been fired from more places than most people work in a lifetime. All non-professional service industry jobs. To name a few: Brass Duck, 7-11 (seriously, 7 –11), Shoneys, Red Lobster, Bennigans and an auto salvage yard. Reference topics 1 and 4.
14. I broke my arm when I was 4. I was on the swing in the playground when the teacher announced it was snack time. I slid off the swing at its apogee about 12 feet in the air and landed against a pole. I flattened another kid and broke his leg. Not my greatest moment and I never got that snack.
15. I love my job. I worked professionally in the private sector and was miserable. I believe in the value of civil service, the mission of my agency and my efforts. I think have the best job in my office because I can be creative, proactive, engaged and involved in a lot of things that really affect other people. If I do my job right, it affects them in a positive way.
16. Knew I wanted to be with woman who is my wife moment I met her. (She wishes to remain anonymous on the Internet, though) She, however, was not initially so certain of my particular value. She thought of me as that kid who talked too much and should go get a room with his beloved James Joyce and leave the rest of the class to discuss real topics. I won her over with Pez during the final exams. They’re vegan, sorta.
17. I really like and respect my parents. They are incredibly good people. I am always shocked when I think of how smart, caring and law-abiding they are. Sometimes I think they adopted me and I didn’t deserve parents that good.
18. My greatest fear is being homeless (again). I was on and off homeless for several years after high school and into college (house rule was out at 18 and be an adult). I spent months living at my job (where I didn’t get fired from) and out of my van (which I parked on the Mall and not down by the river) and friends' homes. This was not so dire for a young man who thought he was living a near ascetic life of a Taoist monk. But as I grew older it all just got too annoying. (That and having to use campus rec centers for all your hygiene needs will cause you to make a lot of new friends you really don’t want). But it isn't the fear of losing everything, which I have done many times, it is the fear of letting down those who depend on me that scares me.
19. I am happiest when playing music. Even if it is bad music. I can get lost in time and thought just playing the drums.
20. I am most comfortable in chaos. Order disturbs me. Limits and boundaries seem arbitrarily imposed when I don't feel as if I had any participation in their establishment. This may be a juvenile sentiment, but the philosophical extraction is that order imposed is tyranny. And therefore open for revolt. Chaos is disorganized revolt and only the truly organized can find meaning and direction…
21. I rarely get sick and I get very little sleep. I get injured a lot, but that natural disconnect between mind and body lets me not think of the pain or recognize a serious injury until my wife makes me go see a doctor. Although last year I had trigeminal neuralgia which was total crap to deal with. They gave me dilaudid, oxycontin and valium for a week. I was not very productive.
22. I have traveled a lot. Personally, professionally – there are few places in the US I haven’t gone through. Seriously. I have yet to finish South America and Asia, have yet to go to Africa and India, When I travel for fun I backpack and don’t know where I will end up…which is why the wife goes on separate vacations to nice destinations.
23. I believe in all rights for all creatures, so this means animal rights, human rights, civil rights, gay rights, religious rights, whatever. So long as another person’s practice doesn’t prey on the rest, then they should have equal rights under the law.
24. I alternate between simplicity and over complication in art and appreciation -- My favorites are Burroughs and Bukowski, along with Joyce and Shakespeare; The Stooges and the Misfits, along with Brian Eno and Stereolab; Picasso and Matisse, along with Howard Finster and "found objects". It isn't that odd-- if it is straightforward it has to have a lot of energy to affect the body; if it is obtuse, it should spark the other parts of the brain that don't get regular exercise.
25. My family is my everything, Sounds lame, but they are my reason why. And I am lucky to have them….the ever growing lot of wife, dogs, cat … donkey? goat? potbellied pig?
-the husband left for egypt on november 22. he's having a time ('a time' being the average between 'a good time' and 'a lousy time', which are the two poles the baron can glean from his emails) traipsing up and down the country. evidently there are donkeys everywhere, and he'd kind of like to bring one home.
-the brother came for thanksgiving, arriving the wednesday before and leaving the monday after. the baron had high hopes that she'd be able to entertain him, or at least muster up the energy to get up and out of the house, but not so much with either of those things. they mostly sat on the sofa, watching season 1 of 'dexter', which the brother brought to the baron and the husband as a gift. the baron, having so far dodged 'dexter', was surprised to find that she liked it, so much so that they bought season 2.
-the baron had the 20 week sonogram this past monday. the husband could not attend, but the brother was able to, and the baron was glad: she did not want to go to the appointment alone, particularly when such big news was to be revealed. reader, the baron and the husband will soon be parents to a baby boy. yes, they have a name. no, they will not tell you. they think it's jinxy to share it just now.
-the baron and the husband have settled on their new car, though the purchase of this car is postponed until the husband is back from his trip. the baron, though she likes the honda pilot, is still having a hard time with its cost. and gas mileage. and size. and also, the husband? what's wrong with the crv again? can't we revisit it?
-the baron is lonely. or specifically, the baron is missing the husband, and the missing him makes her feel very, very lonely. internet connectivity is, evidently, spotty in egypt, so she's heard from him only intermittently. thus, she's been rereading some of their email exchanges, both from this trip and before, just to have a little electronic taste of him in absence of the real thing. the husband has a facebook page, and from it he sent her the below list of 25 things that he reported about himself. she likes reading these things about the husband, partly because she likes seeing him as he sees himself, and partly because she believes it's a supremely accurate representation of his awesomeness. read on to see for yourself:
1. I love a good fight. More precisely, I enjoy conflict -- especially a verbal argument that forces me to think about my position on something and have to defend my beliefs. Conflict is growth and the foundation of all natural processes. It isn't a bad thing. And I rarely care if I “win” the fight. I do get snarky when the fight is trivial and not worth it.
2. I was an avid reader until college beat it out of me. I still like to read, but not as much as my wife would like me to. New Yorker magazine helps as I am reluctant to pick up modern fiction and would rather keep rereading classics like a dork.
3. Used to blame PG county schools for a negative disposition towards public education –I would spend the odd (3,5, 7, 9, 11 ) years in TAG (Talented and Gifted) classes, and the even years in SLRD (Slow Learning and Reading Disabled) from elementary to high school. There was no “normal kid” class and I bounced from one end to the other because I tested well but was disruptive. As an adult, I realized this pendulum affords one variety and a depth of understanding most don’t have opportunity to see. Read – I can see from many perspectives.
4. I am physically clumsy, mostly because my mind and body tend to do separate functions (ask any drummer about this) at the same time. I was persistently clumsy as a youngin’ – so much so that a lot of what parents and teachers thought was “acting out” was in reality accidental mindlessness. It earned me a reputation as a temperamental and destructive person, which helped keep people from criticizing me for my clumsiness. So…it kinda works for me.
5. Went vegetarian in 1990 in part due to poverty, animal rights, bad memories of my mother's cooking and a faint idea of right behavior (reading a lot of Thoreau and watching Taxi Driver will do that). I went Vegan in 1992 for same reasons but with more education due to animal growth hormones in dairy as well as understanding of dairy industry practices. I am still vegan and keep finding things in diet that aren’t (Curse you Guinness!). I don’t lecture people or judge them on their choice to eat meat or not. It is antithetical to my beliefs to think I have a right to tell another person what they can do with their body (outside of not using it to hit me).
6. Never thought I would live past 18 -- those who knew me in high school know why. If not, read number 1 and number 4. Seriously, all this life since then is butter.
7. Was an altar boy and very religious until 12 when I became frustrated arguing with the dogmatic speeches of priests instead of having a dialogue with the church. Never had questions answered and have been more engaged in Taoism as a belief system for the past 15 years. For me, religious experience is about finding the right answers to the right questions and not about dogmatic repetition of unoriginal thoughts that are then used to judge others and limit how they use their time on the planet.
8. I grew up in Japan before moving to MD when I was 7. I have always had an affinity for Japan. I have a tendency to move at least every 2 years. This somehow answers a need for curiosity, but becomes costly. I now just accumulate more homes each time I move. (I am so looking forward to my tax rebate – that stuff is all deductible).
9. Lived in San Francisco and would live there again if could afford it. It is, in my opinion, the best city in the United States.
10. Want to retire to Samos ,Greece, were my grandmother came from. I can’t read, write or speak Greek. That stuff is hard! But am willing to learn to live an agrarian life on my own little farm with orange trees and goats.
11. I have been shot, stabbed, hit by cars, beaten by gangs with bats, struck by bottles and cigarettes thrown from vehicles and had an all around joy of being alive. I can laugh at all these things and isolate their occurrences from the individuals involved as part of what it means to be in the human experience. Most likely, I had all of those things coming anyhow.
12. I have totaled 6 cars so far...reference item number 4. (Don’t let me borrow your car.)
13. Been fired from more places than most people work in a lifetime. All non-professional service industry jobs. To name a few: Brass Duck, 7-11 (seriously, 7 –11), Shoneys, Red Lobster, Bennigans and an auto salvage yard. Reference topics 1 and 4.
14. I broke my arm when I was 4. I was on the swing in the playground when the teacher announced it was snack time. I slid off the swing at its apogee about 12 feet in the air and landed against a pole. I flattened another kid and broke his leg. Not my greatest moment and I never got that snack.
15. I love my job. I worked professionally in the private sector and was miserable. I believe in the value of civil service, the mission of my agency and my efforts. I think have the best job in my office because I can be creative, proactive, engaged and involved in a lot of things that really affect other people. If I do my job right, it affects them in a positive way.
16. Knew I wanted to be with woman who is my wife moment I met her. (She wishes to remain anonymous on the Internet, though) She, however, was not initially so certain of my particular value. She thought of me as that kid who talked too much and should go get a room with his beloved James Joyce and leave the rest of the class to discuss real topics. I won her over with Pez during the final exams. They’re vegan, sorta.
17. I really like and respect my parents. They are incredibly good people. I am always shocked when I think of how smart, caring and law-abiding they are. Sometimes I think they adopted me and I didn’t deserve parents that good.
18. My greatest fear is being homeless (again). I was on and off homeless for several years after high school and into college (house rule was out at 18 and be an adult). I spent months living at my job (where I didn’t get fired from) and out of my van (which I parked on the Mall and not down by the river) and friends' homes. This was not so dire for a young man who thought he was living a near ascetic life of a Taoist monk. But as I grew older it all just got too annoying. (That and having to use campus rec centers for all your hygiene needs will cause you to make a lot of new friends you really don’t want). But it isn't the fear of losing everything, which I have done many times, it is the fear of letting down those who depend on me that scares me.
19. I am happiest when playing music. Even if it is bad music. I can get lost in time and thought just playing the drums.
20. I am most comfortable in chaos. Order disturbs me. Limits and boundaries seem arbitrarily imposed when I don't feel as if I had any participation in their establishment. This may be a juvenile sentiment, but the philosophical extraction is that order imposed is tyranny. And therefore open for revolt. Chaos is disorganized revolt and only the truly organized can find meaning and direction…
21. I rarely get sick and I get very little sleep. I get injured a lot, but that natural disconnect between mind and body lets me not think of the pain or recognize a serious injury until my wife makes me go see a doctor. Although last year I had trigeminal neuralgia which was total crap to deal with. They gave me dilaudid, oxycontin and valium for a week. I was not very productive.
22. I have traveled a lot. Personally, professionally – there are few places in the US I haven’t gone through. Seriously. I have yet to finish South America and Asia, have yet to go to Africa and India, When I travel for fun I backpack and don’t know where I will end up…which is why the wife goes on separate vacations to nice destinations.
23. I believe in all rights for all creatures, so this means animal rights, human rights, civil rights, gay rights, religious rights, whatever. So long as another person’s practice doesn’t prey on the rest, then they should have equal rights under the law.
24. I alternate between simplicity and over complication in art and appreciation -- My favorites are Burroughs and Bukowski, along with Joyce and Shakespeare; The Stooges and the Misfits, along with Brian Eno and Stereolab; Picasso and Matisse, along with Howard Finster and "found objects". It isn't that odd-- if it is straightforward it has to have a lot of energy to affect the body; if it is obtuse, it should spark the other parts of the brain that don't get regular exercise.
25. My family is my everything, Sounds lame, but they are my reason why. And I am lucky to have them….the ever growing lot of wife, dogs, cat … donkey? goat? potbellied pig?
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
food for thought
reader, the baron is having a tough time coming up with content this week, though - admittedly - not for lack of activity in her life. *sigh*
in the meantime, try this piece from slate.com, which is of particular interest to the baron.
in the meantime, try this piece from slate.com, which is of particular interest to the baron.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
good things from the weekend
reader, the baron had another good weekend, "good" having been determined by a) the amount of hours she spent outside the house and in the world, and b) the number of times she had to use her 'emergency bag' (the plastic shopping bag that the baron has with her at all times, secreted away into her pocket, her purse, her desk drawers, and her car?).
she and the husband had a lovely and busy time: over the course of saturday and sunday, they visited a honda dealership (and test drove both the pilot and the crv), a mall (AND they ate at the food court; this, reader, does not happen to them ever - in fact, the husband's falafel and the baron's fried rice might have been their very first food court date), a bookstore (barnes & noble, no less, and mostly for gift shopping), and a series of asian grocery stores.
on the whole it was a highly satisfying weekend, one that ended with the baron and the husband, on sunday afternoon, sitting in the yard and enjoying the uncommonly fine weather. the baron took the opportunity to take this photo, "a man and (one of) his dog(s)".
she and the husband had a lovely and busy time: over the course of saturday and sunday, they visited a honda dealership (and test drove both the pilot and the crv), a mall (AND they ate at the food court; this, reader, does not happen to them ever - in fact, the husband's falafel and the baron's fried rice might have been their very first food court date), a bookstore (barnes & noble, no less, and mostly for gift shopping), and a series of asian grocery stores.
on the whole it was a highly satisfying weekend, one that ended with the baron and the husband, on sunday afternoon, sitting in the yard and enjoying the uncommonly fine weather. the baron took the opportunity to take this photo, "a man and (one of) his dog(s)".
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
new car shopping, or can the baron get a second helping of that humble pie?
last weekend, for the first time in weeks and weeks, the baron felt well enough to stand a prolonged trip out of the house. she's beginning to feel that, into her 17th week of pregnancy, things are finally looking up (well. except for the peeing thing. and the migraines.). the baron and the husband have been putting off shopping for new car, and the sudden reappearance of her health (or some semblance of it) seemed as good a time as any to start. they made a 2pm appointment at a toyota dealership for a test drive; they were interested in the highlander.
the test drive was fine, but the car was not. it sat a little low for the baron's liking, and the console was so busy that the baron was immediately put off by all the extraneous knobs and buttons. also? the speedometer and the tachometer were very deeply recessed into the dash; the baron felt she was looking at them through tubes. this annoyed her. and, to her dismay, the baron learned from the salesman that cars are pretty much no longer manufactured with manual doors and windows; everything is electric and push-of-a-button (and, she thinks, totally more vulnerable to a bum battery or loose wire*).
the baron and the husband had pinned all of their hopes on two cars: the toyota highlander and the honda cr-v. that the highlander would be functionally ugly did not occur to them, and - having definitively crossed the highlander off their list - they decided to visit a honda dealership on the way home (the baron would like to interject that their trip actually started with a trip to target, then on to the toyota dealership, then honda... the baron felt VERY VIRTUOUS for spending so much of her saturday outside the house). they pulled into the honda parking lot, fortuitously into a space right next to a cr-v.
sigh.
it turns out, reader, that the cr-v is rather smaller than the baron would like. she's fairly sure that she'd only be able to fit one of the two bigger dogs into the very back of the car; ideally, the new car they select will fit all four dogs, three humans and chester the cat.
the husband then spotted something called the honda pilot, a car the baron had never even seen before. it's the honda version of the toyota highlander, and reader? its console and dash are not ugly, but are simple and normal looking. the pilot has three rows of seats, the last of which can be pushed down to make room for, say, two big dogs and even maybe a cat carrier. the middle row has plenty of room for a car seat and a least one, say, 30 pound black dog and maybe even a 17 pound dachshund and a suitcase.
the only problem with the pilot, actually, is that it's not the kind of car the baron can see herself driving. before this pregnancy, the baron was sure her next car would be a prius; she was very, very excited to join the green vanguard. her concession to pregnancy and their expanding family was the cr-v, which seemed smallish and manageable, something not too embarrassing in terms of size, but alas. damn the cr-v's lack of canine cargo space!
sigh.
instead, the baron will evidently be driving a honda pilot. she's trying to talk herself into it, into the idea that it's not too big a car, that it's not too much car, that they (the collective 'they', the eight of them - four dogs, one cat, and three people) need a car of that size. and, reader, they probably do. that sound though, the loud jarring one? it's the sound of the baron's ideal version of herself crashing into fragments around her feet, the version that had: no husband, per se, but instead a man she'd refer to as life partner; no children but lots of dogs and no cats; a rented row house in the city rather than a mortgage in the suburbs; just one small car that played second fiddle to public transport.
that woman, whoever she is, will never be the baron, and the baron is thinking she should do away with her aspirations to become that woman. because, reader? the baron's life is pretty sweet - dogs, cats, pregnancy, husband, mortgages, morning sickness, and all the rest. it's pretty sweet indeed.
*these opinions of hers - this distrust of cars outfitted with electric everything - were formed a long time ago, with with one of the very first cars the baron every owned: a 1995 ford mustang. it's a long story, reader, one that ends in flames on the side of the 60 freeway. xtina? remember that afternoon?
the test drive was fine, but the car was not. it sat a little low for the baron's liking, and the console was so busy that the baron was immediately put off by all the extraneous knobs and buttons. also? the speedometer and the tachometer were very deeply recessed into the dash; the baron felt she was looking at them through tubes. this annoyed her. and, to her dismay, the baron learned from the salesman that cars are pretty much no longer manufactured with manual doors and windows; everything is electric and push-of-a-button (and, she thinks, totally more vulnerable to a bum battery or loose wire*).
the baron and the husband had pinned all of their hopes on two cars: the toyota highlander and the honda cr-v. that the highlander would be functionally ugly did not occur to them, and - having definitively crossed the highlander off their list - they decided to visit a honda dealership on the way home (the baron would like to interject that their trip actually started with a trip to target, then on to the toyota dealership, then honda... the baron felt VERY VIRTUOUS for spending so much of her saturday outside the house). they pulled into the honda parking lot, fortuitously into a space right next to a cr-v.
sigh.
it turns out, reader, that the cr-v is rather smaller than the baron would like. she's fairly sure that she'd only be able to fit one of the two bigger dogs into the very back of the car; ideally, the new car they select will fit all four dogs, three humans and chester the cat.
the husband then spotted something called the honda pilot, a car the baron had never even seen before. it's the honda version of the toyota highlander, and reader? its console and dash are not ugly, but are simple and normal looking. the pilot has three rows of seats, the last of which can be pushed down to make room for, say, two big dogs and even maybe a cat carrier. the middle row has plenty of room for a car seat and a least one, say, 30 pound black dog and maybe even a 17 pound dachshund and a suitcase.
the only problem with the pilot, actually, is that it's not the kind of car the baron can see herself driving. before this pregnancy, the baron was sure her next car would be a prius; she was very, very excited to join the green vanguard. her concession to pregnancy and their expanding family was the cr-v, which seemed smallish and manageable, something not too embarrassing in terms of size, but alas. damn the cr-v's lack of canine cargo space!
sigh.
instead, the baron will evidently be driving a honda pilot. she's trying to talk herself into it, into the idea that it's not too big a car, that it's not too much car, that they (the collective 'they', the eight of them - four dogs, one cat, and three people) need a car of that size. and, reader, they probably do. that sound though, the loud jarring one? it's the sound of the baron's ideal version of herself crashing into fragments around her feet, the version that had: no husband, per se, but instead a man she'd refer to as life partner; no children but lots of dogs and no cats; a rented row house in the city rather than a mortgage in the suburbs; just one small car that played second fiddle to public transport.
that woman, whoever she is, will never be the baron, and the baron is thinking she should do away with her aspirations to become that woman. because, reader? the baron's life is pretty sweet - dogs, cats, pregnancy, husband, mortgages, morning sickness, and all the rest. it's pretty sweet indeed.
*these opinions of hers - this distrust of cars outfitted with electric everything - were formed a long time ago, with with one of the very first cars the baron every owned: a 1995 ford mustang. it's a long story, reader, one that ends in flames on the side of the 60 freeway. xtina? remember that afternoon?
Thursday, November 5, 2009
a word about pee
lately, whenever harlan awoke from a nap, a long one or a brief one, his right front leg seemed as though it had fallen asleep or was very, very stiff. the baron gingerly massaged this leg, from harlan's shoulder to his foot, testing to see if there were any obvious spots that pained him.
there were not, and yet, the right front leg lameness continued.
the baron was able to get a vet appointment on short notice, and on tuesday of this week she and harlan went to see about his leg. the baron explained about her ginger massages, about how his leg seemed to be asleep, about how once he warmed up everything seemed fine. the doctor performed her exam ("what clean teeth you have, harlan!") and her own ginger massage on his right front leg, with lots and LOTS of stretching. she determined that there was no fracture, that it was most likely a soft tissue injury (read: sprain or bad bruise), that she felt a little arthritis in his wrist, and that she wanted to observe him walking to see just how much he favored his left leg over his right one.
the vet tech removed harlan from the exam table, placed him on the floor, and walked him out of the exam room and to the end of the lobby, for a distance of about 25 feet. the doctor squatted at the other end of the lobby and called harlan, who worked up a pretty good trot to return to her.
but.
he stopped mid-trip to lift his leg against the wall. of the lobby. the baron was embarrassed and surprised, considering that harlan had very recently lifted his leg in the vet's office parking garage, against numerous trees on the way to the vet's office, on the stairs leading to the vet's office front door, and finally on one of the large planters that flanks the vet's office front door. really, thought the baron, how can he have any left?
----------------
a long time ago - three summers, actually - when the baron and the husband had just returned to maryland, their friend laura came to visit. (actually, laura had gamely agreed to accompany the baron and dexter, harlan and tucker on the drive from phoenix to college park, so... less a visit, and more a working vacation.) the baron can't exactly remember the details of the day (was it morning? evening? afternoon?) or the circumstances (had they just arrived from their journey? what day of the week was it?), but she does remember this:
she and laura, standing at the sliding glass door of the in-law apartment they were temporarily renting, watched dexter, harlan and tucker race across the lawn, happy, no doubt, to be out of the car and back onto grass.
at some point, tucker drew their attention. he sidled up to a bush and lifted his leg to pee. he peed. and peed. and peed. and peed. and peed. and laura looked at the baron and said, "no way." tucker was still peeing.
----------------
the baron's mother has a box tortoise, a lovely one, called mr. ninja. the baron, in childhood, thought reptiles were bloodless and personality-less creatures... something about their black eyes and lack of fur.
but.
mr. ninja is awesome. when the baron and the husband would bring the dogs to visit the baron's mother, mr. ninja followed tucker around the baackyard, making his version of tortoise play: nipping at tucker's feet. the game proceeded thusly: tucker jumped up, moved to a comparably comfortable spot, and stretched out on the grass. mr.ninja approached him as stealthily as possible, angling for tucker's feet; once close enough, he reached out for tuft of tucker's foot hair, only to be foiled when tucker spotted him and jumped up. play on repeat.
mr. ninja's dearest dream is to come into the baron's mother's house. if the screen door to the backyard is left open, odds are good that you can find mr. ninja pulling himself up over the threshold and into the kitchen. it's actually quite a sight, since to do so he has to overcome a six-inch step.
once, while visiting, the baron thought she'd help mr. ninja along.
[the brother told her from the outset it was a bad idea, something like, "hey. you better not do that. he'll pee." the baron couldn't see how a tortoise the approximate size of a cereal box could hold that much pee. she waived off his warnings.]
she lifted him into the kitchen, ready to see him tear across the linoleum. instead, he made his slow, steady way about 8 feet into the room and peed. and peed. and peed. and peed.
for a small animal, he let loose what seemed to be a gallon of pee. the liquid radiated out from mr. ninja in a larger and larger and larger puddle, until the baron was roused out of shock to move him back outside.
the brother was vindicated, and could be heard to say, "i told you."
the baron was surprised by the enormity of the puddle... and went to get paper towels.
-----------------
the baron is thinking about pee this morning because, frankly reader, she's having a hard time doing it. going pee, that is.
she lately has been waking up once or twice a night with what feels like an unbearably full bladder. in response, obviously, she moves toward the bathroom, but alas! mere splashes fall into the toilet. where, she wonders, is the rest of the pee? because, reader, when she gets up again? gets up from the toilet after having just finished her business? she still feels that her bladder is full.
this troubles her, this issue with peeing. the baron will readily admit that she's not VERY good at VERY many things, but peeing she pretty much mastered around her first birthday.
she's decided that pregnancy is like a gauntlet, and that all these things - the peeing, the nausea, the weight gain, the lost vanity, the gained flatulence, the indigestion, the sleeplessness, the migraines, and the whatever else is coming - are specific and mean hurdles that have to be overcome, unfair and extremely annoying physicalities to bear.
the baron, never one for gauntlets, is just trying to make it through. day to day.
today's word? endure.
there were not, and yet, the right front leg lameness continued.
the baron was able to get a vet appointment on short notice, and on tuesday of this week she and harlan went to see about his leg. the baron explained about her ginger massages, about how his leg seemed to be asleep, about how once he warmed up everything seemed fine. the doctor performed her exam ("what clean teeth you have, harlan!") and her own ginger massage on his right front leg, with lots and LOTS of stretching. she determined that there was no fracture, that it was most likely a soft tissue injury (read: sprain or bad bruise), that she felt a little arthritis in his wrist, and that she wanted to observe him walking to see just how much he favored his left leg over his right one.
the vet tech removed harlan from the exam table, placed him on the floor, and walked him out of the exam room and to the end of the lobby, for a distance of about 25 feet. the doctor squatted at the other end of the lobby and called harlan, who worked up a pretty good trot to return to her.
but.
he stopped mid-trip to lift his leg against the wall. of the lobby. the baron was embarrassed and surprised, considering that harlan had very recently lifted his leg in the vet's office parking garage, against numerous trees on the way to the vet's office, on the stairs leading to the vet's office front door, and finally on one of the large planters that flanks the vet's office front door. really, thought the baron, how can he have any left?
----------------
a long time ago - three summers, actually - when the baron and the husband had just returned to maryland, their friend laura came to visit. (actually, laura had gamely agreed to accompany the baron and dexter, harlan and tucker on the drive from phoenix to college park, so... less a visit, and more a working vacation.) the baron can't exactly remember the details of the day (was it morning? evening? afternoon?) or the circumstances (had they just arrived from their journey? what day of the week was it?), but she does remember this:
she and laura, standing at the sliding glass door of the in-law apartment they were temporarily renting, watched dexter, harlan and tucker race across the lawn, happy, no doubt, to be out of the car and back onto grass.
at some point, tucker drew their attention. he sidled up to a bush and lifted his leg to pee. he peed. and peed. and peed. and peed. and peed. and laura looked at the baron and said, "no way." tucker was still peeing.
----------------
the baron's mother has a box tortoise, a lovely one, called mr. ninja. the baron, in childhood, thought reptiles were bloodless and personality-less creatures... something about their black eyes and lack of fur.
but.
mr. ninja is awesome. when the baron and the husband would bring the dogs to visit the baron's mother, mr. ninja followed tucker around the baackyard, making his version of tortoise play: nipping at tucker's feet. the game proceeded thusly: tucker jumped up, moved to a comparably comfortable spot, and stretched out on the grass. mr.ninja approached him as stealthily as possible, angling for tucker's feet; once close enough, he reached out for tuft of tucker's foot hair, only to be foiled when tucker spotted him and jumped up. play on repeat.
mr. ninja's dearest dream is to come into the baron's mother's house. if the screen door to the backyard is left open, odds are good that you can find mr. ninja pulling himself up over the threshold and into the kitchen. it's actually quite a sight, since to do so he has to overcome a six-inch step.
once, while visiting, the baron thought she'd help mr. ninja along.
[the brother told her from the outset it was a bad idea, something like, "hey. you better not do that. he'll pee." the baron couldn't see how a tortoise the approximate size of a cereal box could hold that much pee. she waived off his warnings.]
she lifted him into the kitchen, ready to see him tear across the linoleum. instead, he made his slow, steady way about 8 feet into the room and peed. and peed. and peed. and peed.
for a small animal, he let loose what seemed to be a gallon of pee. the liquid radiated out from mr. ninja in a larger and larger and larger puddle, until the baron was roused out of shock to move him back outside.
the brother was vindicated, and could be heard to say, "i told you."
the baron was surprised by the enormity of the puddle... and went to get paper towels.
-----------------
the baron is thinking about pee this morning because, frankly reader, she's having a hard time doing it. going pee, that is.
she lately has been waking up once or twice a night with what feels like an unbearably full bladder. in response, obviously, she moves toward the bathroom, but alas! mere splashes fall into the toilet. where, she wonders, is the rest of the pee? because, reader, when she gets up again? gets up from the toilet after having just finished her business? she still feels that her bladder is full.
this troubles her, this issue with peeing. the baron will readily admit that she's not VERY good at VERY many things, but peeing she pretty much mastered around her first birthday.
she's decided that pregnancy is like a gauntlet, and that all these things - the peeing, the nausea, the weight gain, the lost vanity, the gained flatulence, the indigestion, the sleeplessness, the migraines, and the whatever else is coming - are specific and mean hurdles that have to be overcome, unfair and extremely annoying physicalities to bear.
the baron, never one for gauntlets, is just trying to make it through. day to day.
today's word? endure.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
five is the right number, or, an open letter from the baron
dear readers (and by "readers", i really mean "mother" and anyone else who thinks that five is not the right number),
i was recently gifted the book "flawed dogs" by the husband. it's the story of sam the lion, a perfectly bred prize dachshund who has had a rather unfortunate life. over the course of the book, he sees the inside of a dog-fighting ring, the inside of an animal testing facility, a dog shelter, and the westminster kennel club dog show. the book's pages, meant for the eyes of teenaged readers, are populated by all sorts of dogs, most of them shelter-bound cast offs.
i read this book in one sitting, in, oh, two hours maybe, crying most of the way. why would the husband give a highly emotional pregnant woman who is already inclined to collect stray dogs a book about a stray dog whose flaw is that he is UNLOVED? why would he do that? i can only conclude that - despite his protestations - he, too, believes five to be the right number.
so. carry on, and i will too.
-the baron
i was recently gifted the book "flawed dogs" by the husband. it's the story of sam the lion, a perfectly bred prize dachshund who has had a rather unfortunate life. over the course of the book, he sees the inside of a dog-fighting ring, the inside of an animal testing facility, a dog shelter, and the westminster kennel club dog show. the book's pages, meant for the eyes of teenaged readers, are populated by all sorts of dogs, most of them shelter-bound cast offs.
i read this book in one sitting, in, oh, two hours maybe, crying most of the way. why would the husband give a highly emotional pregnant woman who is already inclined to collect stray dogs a book about a stray dog whose flaw is that he is UNLOVED? why would he do that? i can only conclude that - despite his protestations - he, too, believes five to be the right number.
so. carry on, and i will too.
-the baron
Monday, October 26, 2009
so much pregnancy test carnage
lats friday marked the end of the baron's 14th week of pregnancy, which means she's now a bit into the second trimester. she's feeling better by inches as the weeks pass, but has still not recovered her pre-pregnancy energy levels. she's back on complex carbohydrates, though, so that's a definite plus.
she read a few baby books early on- in the vein of 'what to expect when you're expecting' - and was delighted to learn that pregnancy may (or, as things go, may not) exacerbate headaches in women who are prone to them anyway. the baron, lucky gal (!), is prone to them, real, REAL migraines that come from nowhere and last for days into weeks, their strength waxing and waning: sometimes, the pain is receded, into the far corners of her head, other times, it's at the fore, at the right temple, and affecting everything she does.
reader, wouldn't you know it? despite her hopes to the contrary, the baron IS one of those women for whom headaches are worse during pregnancy! she's made this judgment based on the 4 week bender going on in her brain, the one that the extra-strength tylenol isn't fixing at all (oh, excedrin for migraine, how she misses you). the quality of this migraine is peculiar, what with the fact that it seems to originate from up along the right side of her neck and into her head. so. that's kind of new.
at first, because of the weird neck thing, the baron thought maybe too many hours at her desk or maybe the mostly-deflated state of the bed pillows might be to blame. she's tried making adjustments: changing the angle of her computer's monitor at work, new pillow configurations, self- and husband-administered neck massages, all to no avail. in the end, the baron has decided that the headache? the one that seems like IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY BECAUSE ALL SHE CAN TAKE IS EXTRA-STRENGTH TYLENOL? that migraine?
the baron believes it's the baby, using all his/her leisure time to develop new and fashionable styles of migraine headache. because that's what fetuses do.
also, thyroid cancer? was headache free.
---------------------
the photo below was taken last august, on a morning when the baron felt a little off - a little sick to her stomach and achy. she took one test, which came back positive, then sent the husband back to the pharmacy to get as many other pregnancy tests as he could lay his hands on; they wanted to be sure, false positives and all that. even though the baron is bitter, today, about her appetite, and huge boobs, and lovely fall wardrobe that no longer fits over her hips, and the headache, and the frequent (but, admittedly, diminishing) vomiting, she's very, very, very happy about those tests. and about being pregnant. go team!
she read a few baby books early on- in the vein of 'what to expect when you're expecting' - and was delighted to learn that pregnancy may (or, as things go, may not) exacerbate headaches in women who are prone to them anyway. the baron, lucky gal (!), is prone to them, real, REAL migraines that come from nowhere and last for days into weeks, their strength waxing and waning: sometimes, the pain is receded, into the far corners of her head, other times, it's at the fore, at the right temple, and affecting everything she does.
reader, wouldn't you know it? despite her hopes to the contrary, the baron IS one of those women for whom headaches are worse during pregnancy! she's made this judgment based on the 4 week bender going on in her brain, the one that the extra-strength tylenol isn't fixing at all (oh, excedrin for migraine, how she misses you). the quality of this migraine is peculiar, what with the fact that it seems to originate from up along the right side of her neck and into her head. so. that's kind of new.
at first, because of the weird neck thing, the baron thought maybe too many hours at her desk or maybe the mostly-deflated state of the bed pillows might be to blame. she's tried making adjustments: changing the angle of her computer's monitor at work, new pillow configurations, self- and husband-administered neck massages, all to no avail. in the end, the baron has decided that the headache? the one that seems like IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY BECAUSE ALL SHE CAN TAKE IS EXTRA-STRENGTH TYLENOL? that migraine?
the baron believes it's the baby, using all his/her leisure time to develop new and fashionable styles of migraine headache. because that's what fetuses do.
also, thyroid cancer? was headache free.
---------------------
the photo below was taken last august, on a morning when the baron felt a little off - a little sick to her stomach and achy. she took one test, which came back positive, then sent the husband back to the pharmacy to get as many other pregnancy tests as he could lay his hands on; they wanted to be sure, false positives and all that. even though the baron is bitter, today, about her appetite, and huge boobs, and lovely fall wardrobe that no longer fits over her hips, and the headache, and the frequent (but, admittedly, diminishing) vomiting, she's very, very, very happy about those tests. and about being pregnant. go team!
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
the best 4 minutes you'll spend all day
the baron cribbed this off boing boing this morning, and it really is the best video clip she's seen lately.
um, california? do you really want maine to lead the way on this one?
um, california? do you really want maine to lead the way on this one?
Monday, October 19, 2009
the baron says...
...she is sorry for not having posted something proper in such a very long time. she feels badly about it, but has been otherwise preoccupied.
...thank you, if you have come here checking for posts.
...pregnancy is turning out to be harder than she imagined it could be. today she is at the start of her 14th week of pregnancy, and the morning sickness has yet to really, truly subside. she still spends each day planning meals, trying to imagine what will appeal to her fickle appetite later in the day. more often that she would like to admit, a feeling of panic (usually related to, 'good god, i haven't eaten in 2 hours. where is the food?!') rises up inside her; she spends a good amount of time taking measures to avoid that feeling.
...a bummer about this whole pregnancy process? the size 10 underwear she bought yesterday. and the 36c bra. and the up to 190 lbs tights. her vanity, with which she was always fairly well acquainted, is actually a much more powerful force than she ever realized. sigh.
...other bodily things about pregnancy are a bummer too. mostly gastrointestinal ones. she won't go into details, but would like to note that tucker and baron are not the only gas factories in the house anymore.
...thank god for the husband, he who does all the dishes and brings the baron food in bed. she is a lucky, lucky woman.
...yay! halloween is almost here! the baron will take off the day before halloween, and has a full day of fun planned! she will carve pumpkins (plucked from this farm), and bake (both pumpkin seeds and cookies), and drink cider to her heart's content. also, she will call the brother and wish him a happy birthday.
...thank you, if you have come here checking for posts.
...pregnancy is turning out to be harder than she imagined it could be. today she is at the start of her 14th week of pregnancy, and the morning sickness has yet to really, truly subside. she still spends each day planning meals, trying to imagine what will appeal to her fickle appetite later in the day. more often that she would like to admit, a feeling of panic (usually related to, 'good god, i haven't eaten in 2 hours. where is the food?!') rises up inside her; she spends a good amount of time taking measures to avoid that feeling.
...a bummer about this whole pregnancy process? the size 10 underwear she bought yesterday. and the 36c bra. and the up to 190 lbs tights. her vanity, with which she was always fairly well acquainted, is actually a much more powerful force than she ever realized. sigh.
...other bodily things about pregnancy are a bummer too. mostly gastrointestinal ones. she won't go into details, but would like to note that tucker and baron are not the only gas factories in the house anymore.
...thank god for the husband, he who does all the dishes and brings the baron food in bed. she is a lucky, lucky woman.
...yay! halloween is almost here! the baron will take off the day before halloween, and has a full day of fun planned! she will carve pumpkins (plucked from this farm), and bake (both pumpkin seeds and cookies), and drink cider to her heart's content. also, she will call the brother and wish him a happy birthday.
home schooling, part 2
if you have a moment, check this out, the second installment in a series related to home schooling your children. the baron has read it, and is thinking about it.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
what's in a name?
the baron: so, one of my students was telling me that we shouldn't give our child a name that's too, you know, out there.
the husband: oh?
the baron: yeah. he said we didn't want to start our children off "one down" in life. i told him that, of course, from his lofty position of [redacted, easily and obviously pronounced 4 letter name] he was able to say something like that.
the husband: oh?
the baron: also, he had lots of advice about parenting... he's got multiple children, and is, ah, very religious. i was hoping the name topic wouldn't come around to last names, but it did. i told him we don't have the same last name, and that we hadn't settled on the baby's last name yet...
the husband: you should have told him we're waiting to pick the last name because we don't know who the baby's father is.
the baron: right. because things are funny when i'm a whore?
the husband: no. well, yes.
the husband: oh?
the baron: yeah. he said we didn't want to start our children off "one down" in life. i told him that, of course, from his lofty position of [redacted, easily and obviously pronounced 4 letter name] he was able to say something like that.
the husband: oh?
the baron: also, he had lots of advice about parenting... he's got multiple children, and is, ah, very religious. i was hoping the name topic wouldn't come around to last names, but it did. i told him we don't have the same last name, and that we hadn't settled on the baby's last name yet...
the husband: you should have told him we're waiting to pick the last name because we don't know who the baby's father is.
the baron: right. because things are funny when i'm a whore?
the husband: no. well, yes.
Monday, September 28, 2009
home schooling, not just for fundamentalists
the baron read this article this morning, and was surprised to find it very persuasive. the baron hasn't been made a home-schooling convert, but isn't nice to know that there are ways out of the box?
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
a brief interlude (die, morning sickness, die!)
the baron has been thinking about the next part of her story - the pregnancy story - but frequently finds herself unable to complete her thoughts. she wants to write about the process of having a baby (complicated by her medical history), about this one more adventure she and the husband will undertake.
but, reader?
the baron is sick. so sick, in fact, that she white-knuckles it through most days, barely making it into the early afternoon before having to leave work for home. it's the morning sickness.
(an aside: please, spare the baron any advice you have about remedies for morning sickness, for she has tried them all. ginger pills, ginger tea, ginger ale, 7-up, bland foods, zofran, lemon slices, sea sickness bands, laying down, excercise... all of it amounts to nothing. well, nothing but the same nausea.)
the baron has never, really, been one to think about food. she's vegetarian, and she likes organic things on principle, so there's been that aspect to her dining habits for the last 10 years or so, but beyond that... she pretty much has always eaten when and what she wanted.
but.
for the past 6 weeks, the baron has been obsessed about food. OBSESSED. she thinks about it all the time, from the moment she wakes up to about 30 minutes before she falls asleep. what to eat, and when did she last eat, and does she have at hand what she wants to eat? and will this thing that she's eating stay down? and if it doesn't what will she eat instead?
she unable to eat the same thing more than two days in a row, which means that, reader? if you're talking to her, it might appear that she's listening, but really she's thinking about something new to eat. at first it was bagels with cream cheese, then grilled cheese sandwiches, then edamame, then sourdough bread toasted with butter, then chicken wings, then top ramen, then grape nuts cereal, then corn pops, then corn flakes, then honey combs, then smoothies, then soup from a can. now she's onto microwave dinners - enchiladas turned out to be a disaster, so she's trying pasta with cream sauce. also, last night she had a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich on white bread, with mustard. notice, please, the total absence of fruits and vegetables. such is the joy of pregnancy.
there are times, though, when nothing sounds good, when the baron sits in her office or lays in her bed and tries her best to imagine something to eat, because reader? the only thing worse than the nausea is being hungry AND nauseous at the same time. while the nausea does occasionally lead to actually throwing up, hungry AND nauseous guarantees that the baron will keel over the toilet (or a sink, or her office trash can, or whatever plastic bag is handy, or - this one unfortunate time - the husband's tropicals planting bed) and vomit up bile.
this is tricky, beacuse it means that the baron can never let herself get hungry. which means that she has to eat every 90 minutes or so. which means that every 90 minutes, she's faced with the difficult task of imagining what, GOOD GOD WHAT, to eat.
she can barely function throughout the day, between thinking of eating, eating and slamming shut her office door to express whatever she's just eaten into the trash can. she can barely sit through meetings without having to hunker down and exhale deeply through her mouth to beat back the nausea rising up her esophagus. she can barely think of what to write here; most days she doesn't even remember that she has a blog, such is the joy of pregnancy.
however, she's trying. to write. so be patient, and bear with her.
but, reader?
the baron is sick. so sick, in fact, that she white-knuckles it through most days, barely making it into the early afternoon before having to leave work for home. it's the morning sickness.
(an aside: please, spare the baron any advice you have about remedies for morning sickness, for she has tried them all. ginger pills, ginger tea, ginger ale, 7-up, bland foods, zofran, lemon slices, sea sickness bands, laying down, excercise... all of it amounts to nothing. well, nothing but the same nausea.)
the baron has never, really, been one to think about food. she's vegetarian, and she likes organic things on principle, so there's been that aspect to her dining habits for the last 10 years or so, but beyond that... she pretty much has always eaten when and what she wanted.
but.
for the past 6 weeks, the baron has been obsessed about food. OBSESSED. she thinks about it all the time, from the moment she wakes up to about 30 minutes before she falls asleep. what to eat, and when did she last eat, and does she have at hand what she wants to eat? and will this thing that she's eating stay down? and if it doesn't what will she eat instead?
she unable to eat the same thing more than two days in a row, which means that, reader? if you're talking to her, it might appear that she's listening, but really she's thinking about something new to eat. at first it was bagels with cream cheese, then grilled cheese sandwiches, then edamame, then sourdough bread toasted with butter, then chicken wings, then top ramen, then grape nuts cereal, then corn pops, then corn flakes, then honey combs, then smoothies, then soup from a can. now she's onto microwave dinners - enchiladas turned out to be a disaster, so she's trying pasta with cream sauce. also, last night she had a turkey and swiss cheese sandwich on white bread, with mustard. notice, please, the total absence of fruits and vegetables. such is the joy of pregnancy.
there are times, though, when nothing sounds good, when the baron sits in her office or lays in her bed and tries her best to imagine something to eat, because reader? the only thing worse than the nausea is being hungry AND nauseous at the same time. while the nausea does occasionally lead to actually throwing up, hungry AND nauseous guarantees that the baron will keel over the toilet (or a sink, or her office trash can, or whatever plastic bag is handy, or - this one unfortunate time - the husband's tropicals planting bed) and vomit up bile.
this is tricky, beacuse it means that the baron can never let herself get hungry. which means that she has to eat every 90 minutes or so. which means that every 90 minutes, she's faced with the difficult task of imagining what, GOOD GOD WHAT, to eat.
she can barely function throughout the day, between thinking of eating, eating and slamming shut her office door to express whatever she's just eaten into the trash can. she can barely sit through meetings without having to hunker down and exhale deeply through her mouth to beat back the nausea rising up her esophagus. she can barely think of what to write here; most days she doesn't even remember that she has a blog, such is the joy of pregnancy.
however, she's trying. to write. so be patient, and bear with her.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
abrupt reversal of a 30 year certainty, or, part one of what will become a very long story
reader, the baron knows she's been scarce around these parts lately. the end of summer always makes her feel a little 'meh', and, um, also she's having terrible, terrible morning sickness. because, oh, yes, she's pregnant.
for those of you who know the baron and the husband, you will immediately note that this seems an abrupt reversal of their previous plan, the one that involved lots of dogs and no children? indeed, when first they met, it seemed serendipitous that neither the baron nor the husband wanted children. this was something they established very early on in their relationship, something that was dispensed with thusly:
"me? kids? no thanks."
"me too. my family's got too many of them anyway."
"really? great. moving on... i'm actually not *that* into fugazi."
**********
that conversation (or one very similar to it) was a very long time ago, almost 9 years now, and in those intervening years, the baron and the husband have had some adventures - madcap and otherwise.
for instance, just before they moved to san francisco:
"i've always wanted to live in san francisco."
"really? it's kind of a hippy town. makes me think of wool socks and birkenstocks, worn together."
"..."
"ok. let's go."
and then, just before they moved to phoenix:
"we'll never be able to afford a house in san francisco. or, really, even a 400 square foot studio apartment."
"not until that earthquake comes and flattens the housing market, probably not."
"let's move, get a mortgage, and pay equity instead of rent."
"ok. where?"
"dunno. somewhere relatively close to my mom so she can dogsit."
"well, california is most likely out, even inland southern california."
"arizona? phoenix?"
"ok. do this soon?"
"ok. think we can fit in house hunting before we leave for greece?"
"hm. find a house in one weekend....? sure."
and just before the husband moved to new orleans:
"i've been offered a job in new orleans. i think i'll take the dogs and move into the w in the french quarter until i can find a rental house."
"ok. meet you there?"
"ok."
and 6 weeks later, just before taking an alternate job in washington dc:
"the husband, i am having the worst friday afternoon ever! my car broke down on the 60 freeway. at 5 pm. and my cell phone is about to die. and i've been waiting for the tow truck forever. and it's so hot!"
"i'm sorry your car broke down. i was assaulted by a large group of baseball-bat wielding youths in the marigny. in broad daylight. i am currently giving my statement to the police. i am not having a good friday either. can i call you back?"
**********
last november, the baron was channel surfing, looking specifically for stacy london and clinton kelly (because, yes, the baron is a fan of 'what not to wear'). instead, on the channel where these two and their sadly dressed prey would normally appear, the baron found, sigh, 'jon and kate plus 8'. this was the baron's first exposure to this show and family, and at first, she marvelled at the sheer number of children. then, she marvelled at the mouth on the wife, because really? what husband wants to be spoken to like that? then, as her attention was waning and she was ready to surf the channels elsewhere, the couple sat down for an interview and the baron heard, "i'm only 32, and i have 8 kids..."
the baron thought, "what? i'm only 31, and i have no kids!", then said, "the husband, you're 36 and you have no kids!"
the husband was startled by this.
**********
the baron wasn't REALLY inspired to have a child by 'jon and kate plus 8', but it did get her mind working.
she thought about all the times the husband would say, "man, my kid would be in so much trouble all the time!" (to which the baron would respond, "with whom will you be having this child? because my child will be in the library. behaving."), or "do you ever think about what our baby might look like?", or "man, my kid will totally skateboard! and play the drums! and be curious about everything!" she thought about all the times she had considered what their child might actually be like; that, if she were very, very lucky, her child would be very much like the husband.
it started to seem like, for a couple of people who had long since decided against children, they were spending a fair amount of time imagining what their family of three bipeds might look like. and that realization, coupled with the fact of the baron's age (she was, last november, 31), and the husband's age (he was, last november, 36), got her thinking.
**********
a series of tense conversations followed before they made the excellent choice to drop the matter entirely until after christmas: they would retreat to their corners and reconvene later to discuss.
in the end, it came down to this:
one would reason, we have a good life.
true, the other would say, but what if? do we want to be in our 50s and full of regret? who can ever reconcile a baby-shaped hole in their heart?
sometime around start of january, the husband said, "let's try. it'll be fun, one more adventure for us. we'll just set aside some time, and if it works, it works, and if it doesn't, well, that's that."
for those of you who know the baron and the husband, you will immediately note that this seems an abrupt reversal of their previous plan, the one that involved lots of dogs and no children? indeed, when first they met, it seemed serendipitous that neither the baron nor the husband wanted children. this was something they established very early on in their relationship, something that was dispensed with thusly:
"me? kids? no thanks."
"me too. my family's got too many of them anyway."
"really? great. moving on... i'm actually not *that* into fugazi."
**********
that conversation (or one very similar to it) was a very long time ago, almost 9 years now, and in those intervening years, the baron and the husband have had some adventures - madcap and otherwise.
for instance, just before they moved to san francisco:
"i've always wanted to live in san francisco."
"really? it's kind of a hippy town. makes me think of wool socks and birkenstocks, worn together."
"..."
"ok. let's go."
and then, just before they moved to phoenix:
"we'll never be able to afford a house in san francisco. or, really, even a 400 square foot studio apartment."
"not until that earthquake comes and flattens the housing market, probably not."
"let's move, get a mortgage, and pay equity instead of rent."
"ok. where?"
"dunno. somewhere relatively close to my mom so she can dogsit."
"well, california is most likely out, even inland southern california."
"arizona? phoenix?"
"ok. do this soon?"
"ok. think we can fit in house hunting before we leave for greece?"
"hm. find a house in one weekend....? sure."
and just before the husband moved to new orleans:
"i've been offered a job in new orleans. i think i'll take the dogs and move into the w in the french quarter until i can find a rental house."
"ok. meet you there?"
"ok."
and 6 weeks later, just before taking an alternate job in washington dc:
"the husband, i am having the worst friday afternoon ever! my car broke down on the 60 freeway. at 5 pm. and my cell phone is about to die. and i've been waiting for the tow truck forever. and it's so hot!"
"i'm sorry your car broke down. i was assaulted by a large group of baseball-bat wielding youths in the marigny. in broad daylight. i am currently giving my statement to the police. i am not having a good friday either. can i call you back?"
**********
last november, the baron was channel surfing, looking specifically for stacy london and clinton kelly (because, yes, the baron is a fan of 'what not to wear'). instead, on the channel where these two and their sadly dressed prey would normally appear, the baron found, sigh, 'jon and kate plus 8'. this was the baron's first exposure to this show and family, and at first, she marvelled at the sheer number of children. then, she marvelled at the mouth on the wife, because really? what husband wants to be spoken to like that? then, as her attention was waning and she was ready to surf the channels elsewhere, the couple sat down for an interview and the baron heard, "i'm only 32, and i have 8 kids..."
the baron thought, "what? i'm only 31, and i have no kids!", then said, "the husband, you're 36 and you have no kids!"
the husband was startled by this.
**********
the baron wasn't REALLY inspired to have a child by 'jon and kate plus 8', but it did get her mind working.
she thought about all the times the husband would say, "man, my kid would be in so much trouble all the time!" (to which the baron would respond, "with whom will you be having this child? because my child will be in the library. behaving."), or "do you ever think about what our baby might look like?", or "man, my kid will totally skateboard! and play the drums! and be curious about everything!" she thought about all the times she had considered what their child might actually be like; that, if she were very, very lucky, her child would be very much like the husband.
it started to seem like, for a couple of people who had long since decided against children, they were spending a fair amount of time imagining what their family of three bipeds might look like. and that realization, coupled with the fact of the baron's age (she was, last november, 31), and the husband's age (he was, last november, 36), got her thinking.
**********
a series of tense conversations followed before they made the excellent choice to drop the matter entirely until after christmas: they would retreat to their corners and reconvene later to discuss.
in the end, it came down to this:
one would reason, we have a good life.
true, the other would say, but what if? do we want to be in our 50s and full of regret? who can ever reconcile a baby-shaped hole in their heart?
sometime around start of january, the husband said, "let's try. it'll be fun, one more adventure for us. we'll just set aside some time, and if it works, it works, and if it doesn't, well, that's that."
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
monday conversation
-if we have a baby, there'll be just three of-... i mean, just eight of us.
-you mean, just the whole fucking lot of us? that should be the name of our sitcom.
-you mean, just the whole fucking lot of us? that should be the name of our sitcom.
Friday, September 4, 2009
the best thing...
...is when someone you respect (even from afar) keeps proving himself or herself worthy of your admiration. to wit, the baron loves neil gaiman.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
caroline is a lovely name
-what do you think about caroline?
-i like it. oh, what about rosamund?
-ack. no.
-what makes you think of caroline?
-this song, it's called 'caroline says' by lou reed. it's about a girl who commits suicide.
-that's really nice. none of our children will be named after lou reed songs... it's like giving them a ticket to heroin addiction right from the start.
-i like it. oh, what about rosamund?
-ack. no.
-what makes you think of caroline?
-this song, it's called 'caroline says' by lou reed. it's about a girl who commits suicide.
-that's really nice. none of our children will be named after lou reed songs... it's like giving them a ticket to heroin addiction right from the start.
Friday, August 28, 2009
because they have so much room for all their other crap
last night, the husband came home from a quick errand to the grocery store with this to say:
"isawanuprightpianoonthesideoftheroadan'ialwayswantedoneandthisone'sthereforfreean'canihaveit?"
to the baron - ignorant in all things piano related - the phrase 'upright piano' suggested something slim, something petite. something that maybe came with a strap. something that could sit unobtrusively in a corner of the basement, near the husband's drum kit. the baron had a parallel train of thought that went something like this: 'hey. they husband doesn't know how to play the piano...' but his enthusiastically shining face was too much for her. she consented and he hopped down the front stairs to get to the truck, to get to the piano. the tiny, unobtrusive, be-strapped one.
ahem.
in the end, it took the husband and a neighbor twenty minutes to unload this piano from the back of the truck into the basement... because reader, it's not very small at all.
in fact, it's rather piano sized. regular piano sized.
and it's only just barely related to a piano, as far as the baron can tell, since one is able to play, with the push of a button, any number of instruments on this 'piano'.
sigh.
"isawanuprightpianoonthesideoftheroadan'ialwayswantedoneandthisone'sthereforfreean'canihaveit?"
to the baron - ignorant in all things piano related - the phrase 'upright piano' suggested something slim, something petite. something that maybe came with a strap. something that could sit unobtrusively in a corner of the basement, near the husband's drum kit. the baron had a parallel train of thought that went something like this: 'hey. they husband doesn't know how to play the piano...' but his enthusiastically shining face was too much for her. she consented and he hopped down the front stairs to get to the truck, to get to the piano. the tiny, unobtrusive, be-strapped one.
ahem.
in the end, it took the husband and a neighbor twenty minutes to unload this piano from the back of the truck into the basement... because reader, it's not very small at all.
in fact, it's rather piano sized. regular piano sized.
and it's only just barely related to a piano, as far as the baron can tell, since one is able to play, with the push of a button, any number of instruments on this 'piano'.
sigh.
Monday, August 24, 2009
butterfly bush
two years ago, maybe three, the baron and the husband planted two butterfly bushes near the front steps of their house.
it turns out they actually DO attract butterflies...
every afternoon the baron - and the dogs, when they're not otherwise preoccupied with squirrels - takes a seat on the front steps to watch the aerial traffic, all blues and yellows and blacks and browns.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
the end of summer
the baron and the husband had a very successful summer, as far as the vegetables go. (fruit, reader, was significantly less successful: three strawberries, a handful of blueberries and blackberries, and lots of peach pits don't add up to much.) sadly, summer is coming to and end, and the vegetable plants in the garden are beginning to wither... last weekend, the husband took out the cucumber plants, and it seems that the watermelon (one fully mature fruit so far) is not far behind. though the tomatoes, hot peppers, green beans and okra are still quite healthy and productive, the baron is quickly losing interest in the garden. she cannot, for instance, fathom canning ANYTHING ELSE. which means... free tomatoes for everyone!
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
lousy things happen, or, an open letter to the husband
dear the husband,
i'm sorry you didn't get that job. i'm even sorrier that the whole thing reeked of 'pre-selected winner', since you were told you didn't get the job not 6 hours after interviewing for it. i'm sorry that a bumbling, weak-spined fool of a woman got it instead. i'm sorry that your personal style has been called into questions - though, to be fair, how seriously can you be taken in jeans and tucker logo shirts? in any case, the reference to your clothes was a very low blow indeed, and i'm sorry that someone thought to judge you based not on your skills but on your sartorial choices.
i've been thinking lately that i'm just so tired of maryland: the humidity, my job, everything. then i realized, this august we've been here three years... which is the longest we've been anywhere since the early 2000s. when recounting our life together, i always mention the cities we've lived in, and then i say, 'i think we had wanderlust in our hearts.' but, the husband, i still DO have wanderlust in my heart. i know that we can't pick up and leave like we once could, for we are bound to this place by work and mortgage and the good gs rating. but, sigh, i wish it weren't so.
the recent change in my medication dosage is, i feel certain, also adding to my grumpiness and general lethargy. i clearly recall the reasons why we decided to alter my dosage, but the husband? those reasons are seeming less and less compelling to me lately. i miss my health.
ok. let me try to end this on a high note, since it's been pretty much a downer so far.
next monday, we will celebrate our three year wedding anniversary, and your 37th birthday. our anniversary snuck up on me, and i must confess: i've thought not at all about gifts for you. my thoughtlessness, though, should not diminish the importance of the day, not at all! i love you, i still love you, and i hope we don't get divorced.
xo,
the baron
i'm sorry you didn't get that job. i'm even sorrier that the whole thing reeked of 'pre-selected winner', since you were told you didn't get the job not 6 hours after interviewing for it. i'm sorry that a bumbling, weak-spined fool of a woman got it instead. i'm sorry that your personal style has been called into questions - though, to be fair, how seriously can you be taken in jeans and tucker logo shirts? in any case, the reference to your clothes was a very low blow indeed, and i'm sorry that someone thought to judge you based not on your skills but on your sartorial choices.
i've been thinking lately that i'm just so tired of maryland: the humidity, my job, everything. then i realized, this august we've been here three years... which is the longest we've been anywhere since the early 2000s. when recounting our life together, i always mention the cities we've lived in, and then i say, 'i think we had wanderlust in our hearts.' but, the husband, i still DO have wanderlust in my heart. i know that we can't pick up and leave like we once could, for we are bound to this place by work and mortgage and the good gs rating. but, sigh, i wish it weren't so.
the recent change in my medication dosage is, i feel certain, also adding to my grumpiness and general lethargy. i clearly recall the reasons why we decided to alter my dosage, but the husband? those reasons are seeming less and less compelling to me lately. i miss my health.
ok. let me try to end this on a high note, since it's been pretty much a downer so far.
next monday, we will celebrate our three year wedding anniversary, and your 37th birthday. our anniversary snuck up on me, and i must confess: i've thought not at all about gifts for you. my thoughtlessness, though, should not diminish the importance of the day, not at all! i love you, i still love you, and i hope we don't get divorced.
xo,
the baron
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
lately, or damn that zipper, or, humble pie tastes good
today, the baron is thinking about zippers, about how they are tricky little buggers, about how- even with the fabled zipper-foot-that-will-ease-your-sewing-grief - they are still RATHER DIFFICULT to apply to a, any, every sewing project. the baron is currently working on a skirt (too many seasons of 'project runway' has led her to believe that she, too, can create!) and spent the better part of yesterday evening adding a zipper - a hidden one, no less - to the waistband. the baron is kind of 'meh' about elastic, but reader? after this zipper agony, elastic is looking very, very attractive to her.
the bummer? that after adding the zipper, she still has more to do! it seems to her that the adding of the zipper should be the final step, not the penultimate one (for there is still finishing to be done). penultimate is bollocks, she is thinking.
also.
those of you who know the baron know that she doesn't actually watch that much television, especially during the week. she misses out on a lot of stuff, even stuff she likes, but alas. she'd rather end her day with a book than with more looking at a longer-than-it-is-tall screen. because, you know. SHE DOES THAT ALL DAY LONG.
anyway.
she misses out on a lot. some of it's good, too; television, it's true, is getting better all the time. see for instance, '30 rock', and 'gilmore girls', and 'veronica mars'.
see, also, 'friday night lights'.
reader, the baron cannot believe that she enjoys this show, what with the football and texas and all, but SHE REALLY DOES. by way of explanation:
shortly before leaving for ireland, the baron and the husband went thrift shopping; the baron wanted something to read since they'd be traveling for A VERY LONG TIME. and reader? it was a boon day at the thrift; she found: 'encore provence: new adventures in the south of france' (she already had 'a year in provence' and 'toujours provence') and 'chasing cezanne', both by peter mayle; 'under the tuscan sun' and its follow-up 'bella tuscany'; 'the life and times of the thunderbolt kid', by bill bryson; and 'friday night lights: a town, a team, and a dream' by h.g. bissinger.
ahem.
the baron has been to both provence and tuscany. she's a fan. so you, reader, can see why memoirs extolling the virtues of the european lifestyle might appeal to her.
on a previous trip to the thrift store, she found 'a walk in the woods' by bill bryson, remembered his name from some almost-forgotten holiday gift, and decided to take a $.60 chance. 'a walk in the woods', it turns out, is good. and bryson's writing is great. so, from there, 'the life and times of the thunderbolt kid' did not seem a stretch, right? the baron believes that good (engaging, interesting, lively, entertaining) writing can transcend subject matter.
so.
'friday night lights'. she's not a football fan, not in the least. she doesn't get it, not any part of it. however, the baron believes that good writing can transcend subject matter, and she had heard praises sung in the name of this book. the flight abroad would be long, she would have time to kill; she took a $.65 chance.
'friday night lights' was the first book she read on their trip; she started it shortly after getting on the train that would take them to the plane that would take them to the other plane that would take them to ireland. at first, she hoped that she would not regret carting a 400 page book around ireland; she hoped that it would hold her attention for a little while at least.
reader. for real. the book grabbed her right away - it's an amazing, well-written non-fiction book about small-town texas football. it is depressing, and - yes - heartwarming, and shocking, and shot through with racism, and dreams (intact ones and broken ones too), and football. it's good business. it is, in fact, the opposite of a bollocks zipper.
she finished it before they even got to ireland. over the course of their trip, she reread parts of it. (the baron would like to mention that the book was published in 1990, so it's a little dated. the epilogue, however, makes up for that a little bit, and you know what? she'd like to amend her previous statement about good writing to say instead: the baron believes that good writing can transcend subject matter and era.)
so.
18 months ago, the baron found that a note had been left at her netflix account, from her friend lalee. it said, in part:
"football + texas = who cares, right? kids, let me tell how good this show is: it's good. give it a chance and you'll be surprised. honest. "
the baron's response (in part):
"it turns out "football + texas" does in fact =who cares. i just can't get behind it..."
now, 18 months later, the baron is forced to admit that, YES, LALEE, YOU WERE RIGHT, THIS IS MAYBE THE BEST SHOW EVER. I WAS VERY, VERY WRONG. YOU WERE VERY, VERY RIGHT. I AM EATING HUMBLE PIE, AND IT IS TASTY. and also, go panthers.
the bummer? that after adding the zipper, she still has more to do! it seems to her that the adding of the zipper should be the final step, not the penultimate one (for there is still finishing to be done). penultimate is bollocks, she is thinking.
also.
those of you who know the baron know that she doesn't actually watch that much television, especially during the week. she misses out on a lot of stuff, even stuff she likes, but alas. she'd rather end her day with a book than with more looking at a longer-than-it-is-tall screen. because, you know. SHE DOES THAT ALL DAY LONG.
anyway.
she misses out on a lot. some of it's good, too; television, it's true, is getting better all the time. see for instance, '30 rock', and 'gilmore girls', and 'veronica mars'.
see, also, 'friday night lights'.
reader, the baron cannot believe that she enjoys this show, what with the football and texas and all, but SHE REALLY DOES. by way of explanation:
shortly before leaving for ireland, the baron and the husband went thrift shopping; the baron wanted something to read since they'd be traveling for A VERY LONG TIME. and reader? it was a boon day at the thrift; she found: 'encore provence: new adventures in the south of france' (she already had 'a year in provence' and 'toujours provence') and 'chasing cezanne', both by peter mayle; 'under the tuscan sun' and its follow-up 'bella tuscany'; 'the life and times of the thunderbolt kid', by bill bryson; and 'friday night lights: a town, a team, and a dream' by h.g. bissinger.
ahem.
the baron has been to both provence and tuscany. she's a fan. so you, reader, can see why memoirs extolling the virtues of the european lifestyle might appeal to her.
on a previous trip to the thrift store, she found 'a walk in the woods' by bill bryson, remembered his name from some almost-forgotten holiday gift, and decided to take a $.60 chance. 'a walk in the woods', it turns out, is good. and bryson's writing is great. so, from there, 'the life and times of the thunderbolt kid' did not seem a stretch, right? the baron believes that good (engaging, interesting, lively, entertaining) writing can transcend subject matter.
so.
'friday night lights'. she's not a football fan, not in the least. she doesn't get it, not any part of it. however, the baron believes that good writing can transcend subject matter, and she had heard praises sung in the name of this book. the flight abroad would be long, she would have time to kill; she took a $.65 chance.
'friday night lights' was the first book she read on their trip; she started it shortly after getting on the train that would take them to the plane that would take them to the other plane that would take them to ireland. at first, she hoped that she would not regret carting a 400 page book around ireland; she hoped that it would hold her attention for a little while at least.
reader. for real. the book grabbed her right away - it's an amazing, well-written non-fiction book about small-town texas football. it is depressing, and - yes - heartwarming, and shocking, and shot through with racism, and dreams (intact ones and broken ones too), and football. it's good business. it is, in fact, the opposite of a bollocks zipper.
she finished it before they even got to ireland. over the course of their trip, she reread parts of it. (the baron would like to mention that the book was published in 1990, so it's a little dated. the epilogue, however, makes up for that a little bit, and you know what? she'd like to amend her previous statement about good writing to say instead: the baron believes that good writing can transcend subject matter and era.)
so.
18 months ago, the baron found that a note had been left at her netflix account, from her friend lalee. it said, in part:
"football + texas = who cares, right? kids, let me tell how good this show is: it's good. give it a chance and you'll be surprised. honest. "
the baron's response (in part):
"it turns out "football + texas" does in fact =who cares. i just can't get behind it..."
now, 18 months later, the baron is forced to admit that, YES, LALEE, YOU WERE RIGHT, THIS IS MAYBE THE BEST SHOW EVER. I WAS VERY, VERY WRONG. YOU WERE VERY, VERY RIGHT. I AM EATING HUMBLE PIE, AND IT IS TASTY. and also, go panthers.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
christmas in july, if only
the action around the baron's house last saturday night:
-i'm making harlan pepper sit outside on the front porch.
-he's on the porch right now, sitting? why? he was bad?
-yes. he didn't come when i called, so i think he should have to wait on the front porch and watch all of us inside. he should have to watch all of us inside eating christmas dinner, like tiny tim.
-i think that doesn't actually work, because tiny tim was good, and also, i think tiny tim got to eat the dinner. so.
-oh. well. harlan's the bad tiny tim.
-i'm making harlan pepper sit outside on the front porch.
-he's on the porch right now, sitting? why? he was bad?
-yes. he didn't come when i called, so i think he should have to wait on the front porch and watch all of us inside. he should have to watch all of us inside eating christmas dinner, like tiny tim.
-i think that doesn't actually work, because tiny tim was good, and also, i think tiny tim got to eat the dinner. so.
-oh. well. harlan's the bad tiny tim.
Friday, July 31, 2009
fingers crossed, or, an open letter to the husband from the baron
dear the husband,
i think you are smart, and a good strategerizer. and also charming. i think that your interview will be smooth sailing today, and that your resume and experience speak for themselves. i also think that, even though your career is not born of cronyism, you should not worry about those who directly benefit from long standing friendships. furthermore, i believe that you should not concern yourself about those for whom obsequiousness is second nature; your talent and innate ability to lead outshine even the most accomplished sycophant. you, unlike them, are principled, which is among the very best things about you (in a dead heat, pretty much, with your willingness to do all the dishes all the time). i know you are not anxious, so i will not try to allay your nerves; another of the best things about you is your confidence, which is always and entirely kept in appropriate measure.
if, for some unfathomable reason, you are not selected for this job today, please know that it most likely has very little to do with you but has everything to do with circumstance and, sadly, military service bonus points. but, i prefer not to think of things that way. instead, i will imagine you in the interview, in your lovely suit (and beautifully starched and pressed shirt, you are welcome), passing your handouts across the table. whatever comes will come, and we'll address it then.
sending all my good thoughts, i love you,
-the baron
i think you are smart, and a good strategerizer. and also charming. i think that your interview will be smooth sailing today, and that your resume and experience speak for themselves. i also think that, even though your career is not born of cronyism, you should not worry about those who directly benefit from long standing friendships. furthermore, i believe that you should not concern yourself about those for whom obsequiousness is second nature; your talent and innate ability to lead outshine even the most accomplished sycophant. you, unlike them, are principled, which is among the very best things about you (in a dead heat, pretty much, with your willingness to do all the dishes all the time). i know you are not anxious, so i will not try to allay your nerves; another of the best things about you is your confidence, which is always and entirely kept in appropriate measure.
if, for some unfathomable reason, you are not selected for this job today, please know that it most likely has very little to do with you but has everything to do with circumstance and, sadly, military service bonus points. but, i prefer not to think of things that way. instead, i will imagine you in the interview, in your lovely suit (and beautifully starched and pressed shirt, you are welcome), passing your handouts across the table. whatever comes will come, and we'll address it then.
sending all my good thoughts, i love you,
-the baron
Thursday, July 30, 2009
the garden in july
the garden, to which the baron alluded in her last post, is overwhelming her. really. she looks at the full-to-bursting bounty and feels dread. who knew that, with just a little water, those plants would take off so aggressively.?
the other night, the baron had two dreams: in the first, the baron, her mother, and one of her lesser cousins are at disneyland with harlan and chester, neither of whom are on leashes. at one point, they pass a reflecting pool (the likes of which the baron has never seen at the actual disneyland). chester walks out onto the pool, turns to look at the baron, then lays down for a nap. on top of the water. like jesus the cat. cut to: the baron, in her dream, wakes up in the morning. she knows it has rained, and she decides to go outside to check the garden. somehow, the garden has become the size of a field and the baron has only planted tomatoes. tidy rows and rows of tomatoes. AND THEY ARE ALL RIPE. every one is ready to be harvested. and processed for canning. and then baron woke up, a sweaty tangle of sheets and panic.
doesn't that sound like a bad trip followed by a stress dream?
in any case, see the cucumber (one of anxiety-inducing thousands) below, and the watermelon (one of a more manageable 6) too.
the other night, the baron had two dreams: in the first, the baron, her mother, and one of her lesser cousins are at disneyland with harlan and chester, neither of whom are on leashes. at one point, they pass a reflecting pool (the likes of which the baron has never seen at the actual disneyland). chester walks out onto the pool, turns to look at the baron, then lays down for a nap. on top of the water. like jesus the cat. cut to: the baron, in her dream, wakes up in the morning. she knows it has rained, and she decides to go outside to check the garden. somehow, the garden has become the size of a field and the baron has only planted tomatoes. tidy rows and rows of tomatoes. AND THEY ARE ALL RIPE. every one is ready to be harvested. and processed for canning. and then baron woke up, a sweaty tangle of sheets and panic.
doesn't that sound like a bad trip followed by a stress dream?
in any case, see the cucumber (one of anxiety-inducing thousands) below, and the watermelon (one of a more manageable 6) too.
Monday, July 27, 2009
it seemed such a good idea
reader, as you may know, the baron and the husband are very, VERY keen gardeners. every year, they wait impatiently for the last frost to come and go so that they might get their newly sprouted seedlings into the ground.
early this past spring, the husband built three vegetable boxes in the sunniest spot in the yard. in previous years, they had had some success with vegetables, but the bounty was not nearly enough, so the baron thought, to justify the time, effort and expense.
so.
it turns out that gardening by box is a really good idea. a really, REALLY good one. so good, in fact, that the baron should not have erred on the side of caution by planting multiples of everything. and, reader, it's not as though she planted a few of each... she actually planted, for instance, 10 green bean plants, 18 tomato plants, 10 okras... you get the idea.
her worst idea by far turns out to be 16 cucumber plants, planted in rows of four, all of which are bearing cucumbers at an alarming rate. the baron thought that she'd try her hand at canning this year (she loves pickles), but reader, it's getting kind of ridiculous. she's spent the past two weekends a fixture in the kitchen, sterilizing jars and lids, mixing vinegar and water and pickling salt, trying to find a way to fit one. more. cucumber. slice. into a pint jar. it's been harrowing.
but.
she's still enjoying it. except.
after her last afternoon spent pickling, she now has a total of 16 pint jars and 3 quart jars of pickles; so, a lot of pickles. and there are still so very many flowers on the cucumber vines. AND the tomatoes (18 plants, remember?) have only just begun to ripen. sigh.
Monday, July 20, 2009
vic firth
the other day, while on the way to see 'harry potter and the half-blood prince', the baron noticed that the husband had purchased several new drumsticks, left in a jumble on the back seat of the his truck and partially obscured by a jacket. the baron could just make out the word 'firth' on one of them.
-hey! do those drumsticks say firth? is that colin firth?
-vic firth. it's vic firth.
-oh, i thought-
-yes, because colin firth makes drumsticks? because I DRUM LIKE MR. DAH-CEEEEEE!
-...
-hey! do those drumsticks say firth? is that colin firth?
-vic firth. it's vic firth.
-oh, i thought-
-yes, because colin firth makes drumsticks? because I DRUM LIKE MR. DAH-CEEEEEE!
-...
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
scenes from a vacation
the baron and the husband recently took a trip abroad, to ireland.
the baron thoroughly enjoyed their trip, especially:
being free of the husband's blackberry
the pleasant surprise of finding vegetarian restaurants in nearly every city they visited (and eating the vegetarian version of the traditional irish breakfast)
the weather
the excuse to imbibe every day - and she'd never had guiness or irish coffee before
the hotels
the novelty of watching 'gilmore girls' in a foreign country
the baron didn't particularly appreciate:
the lack of good fabric stores
that the husband hit two curbs
that gasoline cost 1 euro 20 per litre
below are some of the photos from their trip, which the baron has decided to present to you without context. enjoy!
the baron thoroughly enjoyed their trip, especially:
being free of the husband's blackberry
the pleasant surprise of finding vegetarian restaurants in nearly every city they visited (and eating the vegetarian version of the traditional irish breakfast)
the weather
the excuse to imbibe every day - and she'd never had guiness or irish coffee before
the hotels
the novelty of watching 'gilmore girls' in a foreign country
the baron didn't particularly appreciate:
the lack of good fabric stores
that the husband hit two curbs
that gasoline cost 1 euro 20 per litre
below are some of the photos from their trip, which the baron has decided to present to you without context. enjoy!
Monday, July 13, 2009
tales of car ownership
the baron drives a 13 year-old saturn, a gold one, a two-door coupe that has seen better days. she inherited this car from her mother four years ago, and - visions of NO CAR PAYMENT dancing before her eyes - was glad to accept it.
this car, a lady car, the baron named shep.
***
the baron's friend lalee has driven a mid-sized red chevrolet pickup truck for a few years now. this truck, bought new, was named pretty morgan freeman, or pmf.
***
the husband, who drives a full-sized, extended cab chevrolet silverado, has not named his truck. though this ford was, for the time they had him, referred to as aragorn.
***
mr. c recently bought a volkswagon rabbit, name as yet to be determined. (the short list, so far, is rupert.)
***
the other day, the baron retrieved a voice mail from her mobile phone, a message from lalee indicating that she was changing the name of her truck from pretty morgan freeman to hope.
the baron balked, and called the next day.
-dude, you're renaming pmf hope? that's a terrible name.
-H-O-P-E?
-right, hope?
-no, H-O-K-E. i'm renaming him hoke.
-hoke? that's a GREAT name. for a minute i thought i'd have to have some kind of intervention, like maybe you were giving up on life. or that you were imagining some kind of young woman with down syndrome who was overcoming some adversity. why are you changing the name?
-well, i'm not that big a fan of morgan freeman, and also, he's been secretly dating his adopted granddaughter.
-sorry, what's that?
-i read all about it at the huffington post, which - i think - sourced their material from the national enquirer.
-ah.
this car, a lady car, the baron named shep.
***
the baron's friend lalee has driven a mid-sized red chevrolet pickup truck for a few years now. this truck, bought new, was named pretty morgan freeman, or pmf.
***
the husband, who drives a full-sized, extended cab chevrolet silverado, has not named his truck. though this ford was, for the time they had him, referred to as aragorn.
***
mr. c recently bought a volkswagon rabbit, name as yet to be determined. (the short list, so far, is rupert.)
***
the other day, the baron retrieved a voice mail from her mobile phone, a message from lalee indicating that she was changing the name of her truck from pretty morgan freeman to hope.
the baron balked, and called the next day.
-dude, you're renaming pmf hope? that's a terrible name.
-H-O-P-E?
-right, hope?
-no, H-O-K-E. i'm renaming him hoke.
-hoke? that's a GREAT name. for a minute i thought i'd have to have some kind of intervention, like maybe you were giving up on life. or that you were imagining some kind of young woman with down syndrome who was overcoming some adversity. why are you changing the name?
-well, i'm not that big a fan of morgan freeman, and also, he's been secretly dating his adopted granddaughter.
-sorry, what's that?
-i read all about it at the huffington post, which - i think - sourced their material from the national enquirer.
-ah.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
that time they went to new orleans, or, that time they thought they were moving to new orleans
once upon a time, the baron and the husband thought they'd be moving to new orleans. the husband went out first, for work. he wasn't able to find a house or an apartment right away, so he and the dogs moved into the westin new orleans....
where they adapted to the lifestyle quite nicely.
then they moved into a house...
and the husband was assaulted on the street just outside the french quarter. strangely enough, after that, they decided new orleans was not the right place for them. they packed up their stuff and drove back to arizona.
where they adapted to the lifestyle quite nicely.
then they moved into a house...
and the husband was assaulted on the street just outside the french quarter. strangely enough, after that, they decided new orleans was not the right place for them. they packed up their stuff and drove back to arizona.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
that time they went to costa rica
in 2006, the baron and lalee went to costa rica. on a lark. it was a pretty good week, and from these photos, it appears to be JUST TWO OF THEM, DOESN'T IT?
in playa tamarindo at witch's rock cafe. the baron and lalee showed those nachos who's boss.
lalee's birthday, another beach. april 7, 2006.
lalee's birthday dinner, playa langosta. awww-kward.
the entrance (from the beach) to the hotel. the baron really liked those monkey sentries.
coffee and cream and sugar. a good way to pass the afternoon.
their last night in tamarindo.
trying, unsuccessfully, to set the camera's auto timer before leaving the hotel.
their last breakfast.
in playa tamarindo at witch's rock cafe. the baron and lalee showed those nachos who's boss.
lalee's birthday, another beach. april 7, 2006.
lalee's birthday dinner, playa langosta. awww-kward.
the entrance (from the beach) to the hotel. the baron really liked those monkey sentries.
coffee and cream and sugar. a good way to pass the afternoon.
their last night in tamarindo.
trying, unsuccessfully, to set the camera's auto timer before leaving the hotel.
their last breakfast.
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