Another addition to "The Second Night's Stop"

A long time ago I began a secondary website Why Won't You Write, as a place to house my college writings--both academic and otherwise. Recently I put a few college poems on there, but the largest task was retyping my Masters thesis "The Second Night's Stop."

It's been a long time since I devoted time to the necessary typing and formatting to make this happen, but this paternity leave has given me the opportunity--in fits and starts--to complete Chapter 2.

So, I'm officially announcing that Chapter Two "The Tourist Boom Years" is now available for you to completely ignore over on WWYW?!

As a way of reminding you of the overall project, I am providing links to the summary Abstract and I'll also link to Chapter One. (Because it's MUCH more riveting if you read it all as a complete piece.)

I figure I'll get Chapter Three--where the REALLY exciting stuff happens--around 2009.

Enjoy! (??)

PL, day 14 . . . AND LOST heiroglyphics at the bottom

My time on paternity leave is coming to an end, but not quite yet.

I was planning to go back to work this Thursday, since my corporate-allowed 15 days would be up, but Lynda reminded me that if Hannah goes to daycare, even on a Thursday, we'd have to pay for the whole week. Since that is foolish and especially since I've got vacation days to use up from last year, I checked with my managers and they've granted me the rest of this week off.

So, Hannah won't be starting daycare until Monday. She'll be three months old and change. And while that is still undeniably young, I can't help but point out that Sarah and Grace started daycare when they were six weeks old . . SIX WEEKS! They were so tiny, it was ridiculous. And look how nicely they've turned out.

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This morning when I woke up there was snow on the ground. It's the END of MARCH! STOP SNOWING! But time must march on. I've gotten into such a groove here at home with no stress (except for making sure I'm prepared to feed Hannah with minimal crying--her crying not my crying), I wonder how I'll make that transition back to the job next week. I know (cause I can read the emails) that my project has been handled with smooth skill thanks to the incomparable Dr. Actually. But, when I'm back the reins fall back into my hands and the schedule still must be met. The project hasn't gotten more difficult since I've been away, but I will have to spend a bit of time reacquainting myself with all the information and stuff again, so I can answer questions. But, it'll get done. I probably just need to spend a bit of time this weekend reviewing and sorting my emails.

And its probably a good thing to step back into work. For all of my blogging, I don't think I've written much of substance during this time (kind of like tonight's effort). I'm marking time, but not really hitting anything with profundity. And, really, without profundity, why would anyone bother to come back? So, I hope I can come back with less frequent posts, but something meatier with each entry.

Besides, the combination of maternity and paternity leave has coincided with a great deal of home improvement commitments. We both need to get back to work to avoid spending away our future. (I'm only kidding, but it is true that we've set in motion more repair/improvement work during the last few months than any other time since we've lived in our current house.) All of it is useful/necessary/deserving work, and we work to improve our quality of life, but it is a bit out of character for us. I'm not complaining though . . . the newly walled (??) and painted den is a great improvement; the upcoming patio will be a long awaited fix; and the replaced soffet board was absolutely necessary.

But once you commit, it's easy to keep on going. We intend somewhere down the line (a few years away, I reckon) to fix up the basement into a more livable space, but that will have to wait for a.) payments on this years efforts to make a dent and b.) for the girls to grow up a bit more and actually WANT to inhabit down there. Right now the basement is a dumping ground for toys. Soon enough they'll want to hang out down there with their friends and avoid the embarrassing parental presence. At least, I THINK that's what will happen. Maybe L. and I will turn it into our awesome parental pad of relaxation. Who knows?

Well, enough of this mandatory rambling. Off to bed and a book, then sleep until tomorrow.

*****

Oh, I almost forgot--in my LOST post from last week, I promised to give any information about the rune-covered door that Ben used when summoning Smokey.

Well, here's what I've found so far.

PL, day 13 again?

I think I misnumbered one of last week's paternity leave post. Today is the thirteenth day. I beg your forgiveness, but remember that I've been posting almost every day and the brain is swimming.

This weekend we spent a good amount of time outside, soaking up the nice weather. It was a bit chilly at times, but the sun and the flowering trees demanded outdoor activities. Lynda, suffering greatly with her allergies, managed to get out on Saturday and pulls some weeds in the big flower bed in the front yard. I followed up on Sunday with mulch to prevent the weeds from reappearing. We also spend a few hours on Saturday afternoon/evening talking to our neighbors and letting the kids play. It was a kind of thing where when I'm doing it, I'm glad I'm doing it and think to myself that I should do it more often. Outdoors and neighborly interactions. It's time tested!

Sarah says that she won't have any more homework for the rest of the school year. There is about a full month to go! What about the achievement tests? What about learning? What about scholasticism? Oh, but . . . that's one less chore for me to accomplish, so I guess I won't be too upset.

Speaking of upset, I did learn some sad news on Friday. One of my childhood neighbors died over the weekend and the funeral was today. JB was a nice man, if a bit gruff. He provided an interesting contrast to the life that I experienced in my family. As a child (and reflecting back upon it with an adult's mind) I can say that things seemed less bright, less comfortable across the street than in my home. Please note that I never really internalized these things at the time and I really don't mean these observations to be pejorative. Really, it was a function of home decor as much as anything--and the presence of cigarettes. I'm trying to find a way to describe the sense of Difference. My memories of the B's and their home are filled with happy memories--the super sweet tea, playing frisbee, football, baseball, and everything else in their yard, fishing in the pond, trying to row their boat without drowning, and thousands of hours in their driveway playing HORSE, Around the World, and trying to beat MSquared at basketball. It was a good and safe place to be when I wasn't at my own home. Along with the C's, the B's home were the two places I could go whenever I had to and be comfortable. That is a wonderful gift to give to a young child and I will always be grateful to them for that. Rest in Peace J. I hope you are in a better place and are healthier and happier.

PL, day 13

Having me at home with a full day of Food Network shows can be both a good and a bad thing.

Yesterday turned more on the bad than the good.

I decided to grill chicken and shrimp. I had some frozen cocktail shrimp (I KNOW it's not precisely the right type of shrimp for this . . . but it's what I had.) that I quickly thawed in cold water, then marinated them in oil and some barbecue spice rub. Around 5 o'clock, as the kids where done with homework and other stuff and while Hannah was sitting quietly in her vibrachair, I got everything set up. The marinated shrimp was put of pre-soaked skewers, chicken breasts were ready to go, I had barbecue sauce to baste on the chicken. Everything was on a tray and taken outside. I took Hannah outside to sit nearby. I had a pot of water to boil corn on the cob, ready to use on the grill's side burner (a first attempt at using it). I turn the burners on, get the flames going to preheat, go back inside quickly to grab something, come back . . . and the flames are GONE!

I must be out of propane?

The entire operation is nothing but a fantasy now. So, I bring everything back inside, decide to broil the shrimp in the oven to be a nibble on appetizer while I begin reheating the pot of water and reconfigure the chicken for oven baking, with occasional sauce application. Around an hour later, the chicken is finally done--and at least it was nicely cooked.

So, today I am going to attempt (?) to return the propane tank and get a new one, but I also really need to get new bottle nipples for Hannah. I figure I can use the stroller to move her and the propane tanks from van and back again, but that would be the final errand. I would first go across town to the Baby's R Us to see if they have the specific nipples I'm looking for.

All of this is contingent on Hannah's cooperation (she's usually very good about such things, as long as it fits within the windows of her feeding schedule, and whether or not it rains today. The sky has a gray cast and the dim light outside doesn't bode well for lots of outdoor activities with baby . . . or for Sarah's soccer game tonight.

But, oh well. I've got a load of folded laundry to put away, a clean set of whites to fold and put away, and a set of colored clothes in the dryer right now. Plus, I've got documents to type, and a baby to play with when she wakes up. I've got enough to do.

Last night on LOST

Here is a series of quick impressions on last night's excellent episode of LOST.

Episode 409: "The Shape of Things to Come"