1) ( Exorcist, household discussions inspired by: )

2) MEMO TO SON:
It is customary in this part of the world to sleep during the night-time, often until 5 or 6 in the morning or dawn, whichever comes later.
Just thought you might want to know.
With great love,
Mama

xxxooo

Welcome to the known world, Urspelerpes brucei!

O I C U 8 your scrambled X,
I C U drank your T -
my heart is filled with N V
R there N E X 4 me?
O Y is the carton M T now?
How greedy can U B?
4 U 8 all the scrambled X,
and left me 1 green P...

-Jeff Moss

Sleep, turtle, sleep!

HO THERE, ME HARTIES.

1) It is currently blowing my mind that our bodies know how to turn a sandwich into...more body. Sandwich -> Body. Even being familiar with some of the more nitty-gritty details of digestive metabolism, I'm still utterly amazed. Sandwich -> Body!

2) Also, I realized this afternoon whilst driving down the road that
a) I have no idea why the symbol for Islam is a star and crescent,
and
b) I don't know the exact definition of "farce".

I must go remedy this situation.

LATORZ.

**********ETA, In case you were curious************

2a) Turns out, the star and crescent aren't official symbols of Islam at all (and indeed, very devout Muslims are often opposed to use of the image)- they were used by the Ottoman Empire on battle flags, and the Christian opposition just assumed it was their religious symbol. I SEE.

2b) Basically, a comedy of wild/improbable situations. Not to be confused with "satire", in which human foibles are made fun of. Which would make Terry Pratchett books BOTH.

Interesting!

Also: WE ARE GOING ON A BEACH VACATION. \M/ \M/

Infants are pretty simple. Like the id in all of us, they want to avoid pain and seek pleasure, sleep, and nutriment. There are, however, a few things that our son actually likes aside from these necessities.

Likes A LOT, in some cases, like this painting of Louise Nevelson - he's NUTSO about it. Like, he'll be shrieking and wailing from his poor little tummy troubles, lays eyes on the painting, and ::ZONK:: he's in silent, wide-eyed La-La-land, all starstruck and happy. For as long as he can see her.

I didn't know it at the time, but turns out I painted it for him.

WELL HERE HE IS, THEN!

And just like that, there is more love in the world.

!!!!

With someone like Troy Polamalu glorifyin' the Most High all over the field, there just isn't much hope for the Cardinals.

Man, I was just reflecting on this past year, and it's been awesome: got married, Mass w/ the Pope, got pregnant, moved into lovely new home...what a lovely year full o' blessings. I hope 2009 brings such goodness!

xxxooo

SO COOL.

My Mom totally wins quote of the week with the following: "you know, my hippocampus really sucks."

Favorite descriptor for Henry so far, by a long shot = "the little aquatic guy in my thorax". Also, making the transformation into a Baby Nerd nearly complete, I have joined a local playgroup/Mom's collective-type thing. Shenanigans may possibly follow.

Awesome Cleeveez moment #0286724936:

After I finished tidying up a bit and plotzed on the couch, Cleeveez ran rather hastily to his toybox, picked out a toy, brought it over to me, and placed it very gently in the crook of my arm. Then ran off again, and repeated the whole thing. And then again. Then, very businesslike, sauntered off and plotzed on his bed.
As I write this, I have a little teddy bear, a rawhide nubbin, and his (most beloved) tennis ball shard in the bend of my left arm.

Related: why do dogs love tennis balls so much?

Also: Happy Autumn! The best season of the year has finally arrived!

I just thought I'd let you know:

1) This book is &^%$&%#ING AWESOME.

2) Look what Steven Hawking gave me for my birthday!

3) Speaking of chronophages, the aforementioned book is a chronophage.

That is all!

xxxooo

So the Mister and I did a bunch of planting and repotting this past weekend*...repotted the crowded-ass plants that my_sanatorium and I originally planted a month or so ago to give them more space, and then potted afresh the Mister's new pepper plants.

Guess what we found in our parsley!

Turns out, he's gonna grow into one of these (a Black Swallowtail)...so instead of evicting him to the no-parsley-having condo gardens, we've decided to let him feast on our parsley all he wants. We also set up a nice stick for him to build his chrysalis on, and will take care of it through the winter for him.

WOW!

And since we're so proud of our plants, I decided to post them here for all to enjoy, along with a lovely photo of my Garden Assistant.

( The Potted Garden )

* on our way home from the nursery (raving about the smell of fresh soil pretty much the whole way), we both realized what complete and utter hobbits we are. Not only are we homebodies like whoa, but we are A) Food Nuts and now B) Gardening Nuts (do note: everything in our garden is FOR EATING.) This is not even counting my whole seven-meals-a-day thing.

Yesterday, the Mister and I went to an awesome garden wedding (with grapevine trellises and everything! Jeez!) where my cousin married a Russian engineer named Constantine. There were lots of Russians there, acourse, which made my aunt and uncle happy because they both like to eavesdrop in Russian to sharpen their language skills.

I have always found it funny: that half of my family - my aunt & uncle and the cousins at the wedding, etc - is NOT the Rusyn half. They are just regular honky (British, German, Irish, etc.), but big time Russophiles. They speak Russian, they marry Russians, they work in Russia, their house is filled to the roof with icons and other Russian paraphernalia.

The Rusyn half of my family, on the other hand, mostly cares about food, religion, and being left alone.

*******
( A Story About Cleeveez's Transatlantic Healing Powers )
********

When your buddies are in the paper, it is always something quite good or quite bad.

See?

Details magazine just wrote a feature about my friend Scott.

I really miss Scott.

The Onion AV Club just wrote a feature about my buddy Mike's new band.

I see Mike often enough not to miss him.

****************************************

I hope I will see Scott again someday, and we will blow each other's minds with our poetry and make nasty jokes again, and drink so much coffee our hearts should explode again, and I will chide him for smoking in Heaven, and he will chide me for believing in Heaven. Then we will share Guinesses with our other buddies there, with you - or, more accurately, not share - and everything will be made new.

JEEZ LOUISE.

Sometimes you will be going about your business as usual, full of everyday assumptions about people you know, and their faith and their worldview and beliefs and what-have-you. We all do it. But sometimes, whilst you go about that business, something will happen that will illuminate a side of a loved one or friend that you NEVER SUSPECTED WAS THERE, and those assumptions and heuristics you were carrying around will be all blasted to shit, never to return.

Like so:

After watching that video of the tap dance yesterday, I had an idea. The idea was something as follows -
I will bring my shoes with me when I walk B's dog, and then when I'm done with the dog I will utilize the lovely floor and full-wall mirrors to dance my ass off for an hour or two!

That was the plan. But see, I brought my dog with - as I usually do, so the two beasts can walk together.
My dog was therefore in the house after the walk.
And I learned something about my dog today that I TOTALLY DID NOT KNOW, which is that he is apparently a 7th-Day Adventist or some shit because HE DOES NOT BELIEVE IN DANCING.

He was really angry when I started! Like, barking frantically at me, and finally running up and trying to stop my feet with his (unusually articulate) boxer hands as he grumbled at me.
Literally trying to stop my feet - and people, he is STRONG.

So, no dancing around Cleeveez, y'all. Cleeveez's (newfound?) religious persuasion turns out to be a bit of a bummer, because B's floor is fantastic for tapping and she has dance-studio mirrors. And I live on the third floor of a building built out of cheap cardboard.

To think, Cup and I just assumed he was Catholic like us. How presumptuous of us! Now we know.

But if he thinks I'm gonna start making him vegetarian food, or stop blessing him or talking to St.Francis about him, he is MISTAKEN.

Hmmmm....

Ho there!

Adrian Monk Report, courtesy CDC:
(...as named & interpreted by yours truly)

This week we have a case of malaria in Maryland - how exotic! The parasitic division continues to dominate the hot, damp regions of the country with both crypto and giardia making cozy homes in the South Atlantic states and their respective digestive equipment. It is worth noting, however, that California has taken a run at the title for giardiasis this week, apparently jealous of the Dirty South's long-standing dominion.

Unfortunately, Virginia gets the trophy again this week for rabies infections, beating out all other states by a ~1000% margin (mean). Dang. In the Tick Division, North Cackalack wins for Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever, but Upstate New York clobbers all for Lyme (much to the shock of fans in Connecticut.)

If you're not a fan of ebola-style bleeding activities, you may want to avoid California and Florida this past week - the Shiga toxin found its way into the local E.coli strain once more giving new meaning to "I left my heart in San Francisco". Media darling invasive Strep took the cake in Texas, but the Ministry of Microbiological Optimism would like us to remind all that "at least it's not hemolytic".

Florida takes Syphilis at 56 cases this week, but smart bets are still on a showdown between Texas and California for the title this year.

West Nile continues to be a non-issue but the CDC insists on wasting perfectly good statisticians and paper to include it. Why, why, forever why?

The Big Apple wins at death again, all categories, for the nine millionth time in succession, but if we take that for granted we see that who you really need to look out for is CHICAGO. Unless we're talking about flu deaths in which case one would want to avoid L.A.

*THIS REPORT COURTESY OF YOUR LOCAL MINISTRY OF SPERMATOPHOBIA, WITH FUNDING FROM THE LOCAL CHAPTER OF MYSOPHOBES ANONYMOUS.*

LISTEN.

I've been thinking: 9/10s of the posts I've made in oh, I don't know, the past YEAR or so? Have been about religion, faith, and things spiritual. And I know for certain that not all of you are into that, especially when it's related to That One Guy on the cross. Understandable! Anyone who's known me for more than 10 years can probably remember a time when I was devoutly, ferociously anti-That Guy. So, my sympathies that I've gone and flipped on you.

But, that said: my sensitivity to your perspectives has also resulted in a lot of self-censoring on my part, and guilt for me every time I do post something religious. And I don't like apologizing in my own journal.
SO!
I went and built another one, devoted to all my religimite wanderings/wonderings/reflections/thoughts/questions/frustrations/inspirations/etcetcetcadnauseum! I will continue to write about my secular stuff in here - I ain't leavin' - but I'm goin' over there for the rest since there seems to be so much of it. You can come if you want - if not, that's fine too.

Harr she blows: http://overteakettle.blogspot.com/

CARRY ON!