July 31, 2006

JB’s view this weekend:

Mt. Hood, displayed amid in the glory of a mountainous sunset, as JB made camp for the night on the slopes of Mt. Adams.

My view this weekend:

Pardon the crude artistic representation, Photoshop doesn’t quite capture the essence–the je ne sais quoi–of a teething baby, but if you imagine an angry little face that constantly makes a brain-grindingly horrible sound no matter how many Hyland’s tablets you stuff down its wailing, drooling maw, you’d be in the neighborhood.

Let’s compare and contrast, shall we? JB, hiking with a friend out in the wilderness, surrounded by nature’s bounty…

…me, stuck at home with a kid working on his MILLIONTH fang.


When JB was packing on Friday I noticed he had included a hilarious-looking product that’s apparently designed for cyclists. “BUTTr?” I said. “What’s this for?”

“Chafing,” he said defensively. “Long hikes can be, uh, problematic sometimes.” He noticed me going for the camera and shook his head. “No way, I don’t want you posting that online.”

“Even if I say it’s because you have such enormously huge balls, you have to create a smooth, chamois-cream protective area for them to bounce around in?”

“Well, in that case…wait, NO.”

I said fine, I wouldn’t, but that was before I got up at 4 AM, then again at 5, and 6, and 7:15 on Sunday morning to deal with a whimpering baby.



The boy has Darwinism on his side lately, because however much I might fantasize about cramming his teething little rump into a wood chipper, how could I Fargo this level of cuteness?


Maybe the trick is to stuff him in a burlap sack first.

July 27, 2006

I’m sort of tempted to keep our food-tool conversation going (giant tureen-sized coffee cups, pretentious or strangely soothing? Discuss) but frankly, I’m too distracted by the fact that Jelly Belly makes something called a Sports Bean, which is candy that is “formulated with carbohydrates, electrolytes, and vitamins B and C to fuel your body during exercise”.

So if I am sitting in my chair and ever so slightly jiggling my foot, does that mean I’m cleared for a handful of Jelly Bellies? And do they have to be the Sports Beans exactly, or can they be, say for instance, Jelly Belly Chocolate Dutch Mints? And can “handful” mean “the entire bag”?

Mmmph. Can’t talk now. Fueling body.


We bought a rug for the living room floor, in the hopes that it would help absorb some of the tidal drifts of dog hair, and maybe also provide a small buffer for Riley’s ongoing QA tests of Newton’s Law.

Finding a rug isn’t easy, because in my personal opinion the vast majority of rugs available in a non-astronomical price range are extremely ugly. I didn’t want much of a pattern, I don’t like pseudo-Oriental designs, I wanted to avoid a rough texture, and so on.

I also don’t care for shag rugs, but as it turns out, that’s all JB likes. Shaaaaag. Hairy, seventies-era carpeting. Because, as he says, “it’s cozy looking.”

We ended up with a plain white shag rug; white because I couldn’t decide what color would work best with dark, reddish wood floors, dark brown furniture, and one red/fuschia wall – the rest white or heavily windowed – which is the color scheme going on in the living room.

Now I think we should have picked something else, because the white rug sort of sticks out, like a lot. I hesitate to post this picture as I’m sure some of you will clutch your pearls at the very sight (be kind, pearl-clutchers), but here:


It looks too big to me, and too white. Like Rush Limbaugh.

I like this one better, but it’s NINE HUNDRED DOLLARS. Dag.

Also, after we got the rug settled, I noticed that I could smell a funny, chemical-y odor. So in my attempt to cushion Riley’s precious body and keep him safe from harm, I am now inundating him with many volatile organic compounds.

Well, hopefully it will trigger a helpful mutation – like X-ray vision, or the ability to levitate, or the growth of a strong, many-suction-cup’d tentacle – rather than turning him into Allergy Boy, He-Who-Requires-Inhaler.

I’ve started surfing around for an environmentally friendly, non-ugly, less-than-$500 replacement, but man, I don’t know. I think we might be sticking with the shag for a while. Which seems to be okay by Dog:



TILE UPDATE! TILE UPDATE! Whether you care or not!

The bathtub surround is done:

And the shower is done:

Today the Tile Guy is going to finish the grout work and I will be *this* close to taking a five-hour bath in that giant fucking tub. Come on by, there’s room for everyone! Unless you produce Mystery Bubbles, in which case you will be banished to roll on the off-gassing (ha ha HAAA!) carpet with Dog.

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