The Mud Season

We have a season in New England named after wet ground. This particular year is one of the worst I have seen. Our hill usually is barely passable because the surface gets too soft to stay on top. Yesterday, I sunk in to the axles and, were it not for the fact that I had an ounce of momentum left, the car would have probably stayed there until June. Mud season is not all thorns, though. These warm March days also make for good maple sugar and the finest snow conditions of the year.

Home as Castle

The subprime lending market is headed down the road. I was discussing this with a friend of mine today who said that there's millions to be made here, provided the right buyer comes along and knows how to dance this one. This is the same friend who is applying for the empty chair at Berkshire Hathaway. As an economics professor once told me "The greater the risk, the greater the reward". We've just finished all of the paperwork that goes into the finance of our home. Now that this whole restoration is complete, we have to start paying for it. Somewhere out in America, some guy is sitting at a windowless office drinking bad coffee and poring over my credit report. He'll make a decision on this point or that and pass it on to another desk where someone else will earmark my mortgage application for the final judgement. With any luck, we'll beat the current interest rates by a few points and maybe even get in under 6%. But in regards to the news today of companies like New Century, there are a couple of items worth noting. What we learn from the current upset of the lending markets is circular at best. More people are jumping onto the American Dream (whether they can afford it or not). Of these people who are jumping, the ones who can't afford it have been told that they most certainly can. Oddly enough, these house-hopefuls are now defaulting on their loans that at one point looked so manageable yet were offered to them by lenders who are now defaulting on their own payments and might subsequently be floundering by lunch tomorrow. A man's (or woman's) home should be their castle. In this moment now unfortunatly, the home appears to be a millstone tied around the necks of the many who have been lured the deep waters of real estate by lenders who failed to measure the risks properly. The other half of the equation from that economics class is "the greater the risk, the greater the loss".

Tua news. Slow steady growth expected this week. She finally has her cold beat, as do I. Bug is still going strong on 5 hours of sleep per night.

Don't Let the Bed Bugs Bite

Here is another timeless tip for sending a newborn off to sleep: Power-rocking. This will only work for infants that are motion addicts (love to move and the world might as well have ended if they stop). Tua is a motion addict. So after she is swaddled as tightly as can be, I take her in my arms and, holding her about six inches away from me, swing her up into the air and then back down again, almost like I'm painting a floor to ceiling canvas with one single brush-stroke. This makes her very happy and content for some reason and after about two minutes or so, she is out for the night. She won't even stir when I put her into the crib.

Movie recommendation of the day: DON"T watch Scorsece's The Aviator. Artistic portraits of actual characters are best kept as scripted biography.

Better Late than Never

Tua's reacts to my impression of Tony Blair.
A contemplative Tua, moments before falling asleep...
Tua and Pascal tonight at my parents.
Jim, Lauren and a dozy T.
Tickling the Ivories---Pascal and Justin

What a day....Bug and I just returned from a visit with family at my parents house. Lots of activity and Tua shared in most of it. Everyone's asleep now and I shant be too much longer.
This afternoon was spent unpacking the last of our boxes that have been sitting in the second floor unopened since we moved in. The usable square footage area of floor has increased tenfold.

Speaking of tenfold, Tua's decible pitch has increased roughly this much as well this week. Her cries are louder than I ever imagined they would be. We thought about putting a pair of earplugs next to the changing table earlier this evening, but then figured it wouldn;t be good for her self esteem to see mom and dad ignoring her.

Housekeeping

A Few Items of Note::::

-We put out the first prayer request on the House of Shaw on Monday. The plight of this baby girl has been on our hearts the past few weeks. Ramona Mae is the niece of dear friends of ours. Amidst the shadows of this very dark time, her mom and dad keep up the posts on the page that has become a favorite destination of many who have joined themselves in prayer for her recovery.


-You have 38 days before your taxes are due. I am usually the one to wait until the 13th of April to get these done. As of five minutes ago, the taxes for this household are complete.


-Tua's prospects for a career in Major League Soccer are looking brighter. Last night during a routine bottle feed, she sent her foot into my side with enough force to wake me up. No bruise marks, but a kick like that from a 9 week old can really turn your thoughts to soccer camp.

-Ames Penn is alive and well. He emailed his site to me this morning. It's evidently got a few poems that he's working on. www.amespenn.blogspot.com

Awry and Demand

The weekend here did not go nearly as close to what we had planned on. Saturday evening, the symptoms of whatever minor cold Tua had began to manifest themselves in me as something greater and by Sunday morning, I felt like browsing for coffins. It is now Monday evening and I have the energy to eat which in itself is a step in the right direction. For me, the most difficult part of any illness is the apparent inability to contribute anything to the threads and patterns that make up the course of a day. Never did that aprehension have less merit than today. I was still under the weather but I managed to muster enough strength to bring Tua through her routines of morning, noon, and early evening, as Bug was out to town. I must have looked like a proper bandit to her as I was wearing a bandana to keep my germs off her face. She didn't seem to mind. I had no voice, but she seemed to love my hoarse, tune-less rendition of Amazing Grace. I almost coaxed a laugh out of her when "bright shining as the sun" took off for another key in a higher octave all together. Today was also the day when I learned how much Bug does for Tua. The list of tasks and assignments on Bug's schedule is long; that I knew. What I didn't realize was that amidst the tasks that make up the care and nurture of an infant, there is a clear pattern which makes the day much more fluid. Bug has this scheduling thing down to clockwork. I hope to never take for granted this skill she weilds. Tua will grow all the stronger for it, and I shall endeavor to do my best to sustain it.

The Best Medicine

Bundled for departure...

Waiting.....

The doctor is seeing you now

First Shots

Tua and her latest opinion of sharp objects......

Today was another blizzard in New England. In our small corner of the state, it is still snowing and we've accumulated just over a foot of snow and sleet. Amidst all this, Tua had her 8 week checkup. Despite her sniffles and her cough (which by the way sounds very close to Gollom's cough), she smiled and gurgled all the way into town. The roads weren't too bad for bad. We arrived just on time and waited the obligatory twenty minutes in the waiting room before the green light into the office. Tua was weighed (11 lbs) and measured for length (22 in) and checked over by the pediatrician who pronounced her "sound as buttermilk". We had a few minutes of q & a with him where we asked him such questions as:

"What kind of oil can we use to remedy her dry scalp?"

"Olive oil works okay, as long as you leave it on for a healthy spell. You can use any oil you want, even crank-case oil if you don't have anything else. It all does the same thing."

After the doctor left the room, a nurse came in with a tray of needles. Tua looked at the nurse and smiled. The happy times were short lived.....needles and newborns don't mix and Tua's cries were heard five towns away.

We're home now. She's asleep and we're on tiptoes. Evidently, the pain from a shot peaks seven hours from application.