another one

I'm in awe of people who can make me laugh. (It's one reason I adore my husband.) It's so easy for an comedy idea to flop, even if it seems funny on paper. You need to have just the right delivery, just the right nuances of facial expression to keep a clever idea from becoming a dud. That happens a lot on Saturday Night Live — duds — especially now that Will Farrell is gone. So last night, when I watched the first of 18 one-minute comedy films made by the contestants of On the Lot, and I almost fell on the floor laughing at the sight of the Guy-Who-Only-Communicates-Through-Dance "talking" his way out of a car accident, then deftly leaping backward to slam his car door shut with a swift jéte, I was in awe. And hooked. Hooked on yet another TV show. Hooked, when I thought I had finally come to the end of a season that had me home on Tuesday and Wednesday nights for American Idol and Thursday nights for The Office and Grey's Anatomy. Hooked, just when I've been starting to imagine all the ways we can spend our summer evenings outdoors, getting exercise, or at least catching up on our Netflix queue.

I watched the Idol finale in spite of myself. After Melinda got kicked off, I thought I didn't care enough to tune in and see whether Jordin would beat Blake. But I watched anyway, and I was surprised at how teary-eyed and nostalgic I felt seeing all the finalists up on stage again. I sobbed through the Sgt. Pepper medley, when all the past Idol winners sang different songs from the album, and then the 12 finalists got up and sang "I get by with a little help from my friends." I was completely undone ... maybe also because I was watching Ingrid deteriorate, so I had a lot of emotion to release. And then there was the sweet ending to The Office, where Jim realized mid-job interview that where he really pictured himself was with Pam, and he trekked back from NYC to Scranton and asked her out to dinner, and the smile she had on her face after that ... it was perfect. A perfect way to end a season that wasn't my favorite, but that scene made it all worthwhile. And then there's Grey's Anatomy. I am still trying to come down from the devastation of that ending. Meredith: "It's over. So over." And Christina: "He's gone. ... I'm free. ... Damn it." And as she tried to rip the torturous necklace from her body, and her exquisite, China-doll face broke into pieces of anguish, I felt everything she was feeling: her pain, her clausterphobia, her relief, her panic. I think she should win an award for that scene. She was so good.

And now there's On the Lot. I spent an hour last night rewatching the short films on video and calling in votes for my favorites ... the airport security sex fantasy, the fart on the plane, the science lab, the space aliens who barf on the police officer. Such laughter! Which means I'll be tuning in again tonight to see who gets kicked off. And then again next week to see how my favorites do. Is there hope for me? Can I free myself from the TV for just one summer?

nine months old today

No more of this sitting still for pictures on the couch — that's for babies! This is about all I could get out of Mr. Wiggles today. These photos capture him exactly the way he is right now: always on the move and full of life.




I did manage to get some calmer ones of him outside earlier this week. Here are some of those. Natural light is better, anyway.




I miss Ingrid. I expect to see her in her usual spots, and when I realize she's gone, I feel a pang of sadness all over again. After spending most of my adult life with cats in my home, it's strange not to have animals anymore. What hardest of all is realizing that we'll no longer see the excitement Daniel showed whenever he saw Cat. He'd shriek with happiness and wave his arms before commencing to torture her. Such a sound of joy.

Also, note to self: I should not play sad, nostalgic music at a time like this. Stick to NPR news. Or silence.

bye bye, cat

Those were our words of parting, Steve's and mine, as we stood in the middle of our living room holding a very watchful Daniel at about 4:00 this afternoon, watching the vet put Ingrid's body into a little basket and cover her with a lilac-colored towel. It was clear that she was dying when the vet (who makes house calls) arrived an hour earlier. She had taken a turn for the worse overnight, and all day she had just been lying mostly still, barely able to get up and walk. I let her lie on one of Steve's T-shirts because it had his smell on it, and she is such a daddy's girl that I thought it would give her comfort. Steve came home right away so he could be there when the vet did what had to be done. We could have tried to hydrate her, but it probably wouldn't have bought much time, if any. She was almost 15 years old, and her kidneys had been failing slowly for several years. I know it was time for her to go, and I am glad we got our chance to say goodbye — even Daniel pulled her tail one last time.

It's so wierd. Afterward, almost the moment the vet left, I felt this compulsive need to clean the house. I threw away every remnant of her litter box, and Steve mopped up the floor in the laundry room that has been kitty-litter central ever since I moved in. I stripped the sheets where she used to hunker under the covers (and where she had recently peed) and threw the bedding into the wash. I threw away all her food and her little cat toys. I picked up the pink wire brush that I'd used so many times to brush her furry coat, and I started sobbing when I saw some of her white fur still clinging to it. But after I'd had my cry, I threw the brush away, too. I don't know why I couldn't wait, or why I didn't want to keep some things around. I said as much to Steve, and he laid his finger on my forehead and said, "The important stuff is right here." Yes, and in pictures, like the one here of Ingrid in better days, with one of her (and my) favorite people.

So ... rest in peace, Ingrid. You are with your sweet brother George* now, and I hope you are lying together in kitty heaven, curled up in the yin-yang position like old times and licking each other blissfully. I miss you, girly-girl.

(*who died four years and one week ago)

'i may be leaving you soon'

Ingrid has been growing noticeably weaker and skinnier and wobblier every day. Now she has trouble jumping on the bed, her favorite place; when she tried last night, she fell backward onto the floor and landed on her back with a bony thump. It was so sad. When I pick her up, she feels like a Raggedy Ann doll. Yesterday, her bladder leaked a little on our living room chair (ugh - how do you get that smell out?), which is a sign of advanced kidney disease. I am afraid she may not have much time left with us, although cats can surprise you. I am waiting for a call back from the vet so we can find out what comfort measures we can give her at this stage in her life.

She spends a lot of time just sitting — under the bed covers or just next to one of us. She's even OK hanging out with Daniel, who pulls and grabs her like a toy. She still loves to go outside when I open the door, but I don't leave her out there alone. The neighborhood cats would whoop her in a heartbeat.

She's also been gazing at me a lot, and I feel like she's trying to tell me something, though I'm not sure what - "I'll be OK." "I may not be with you much longer." "Please take extra good care of me." "I am barely hanging on here ... help me." (Obviously, I'm projecting onto her all my own sadness about losing her - but I like to think that maybe she's communicating with me, too!)

up north again

Two trips to the North Shore in a month — how could we get so lucky? This time, we stayed with Steve's brother and his wife and their nearly-2-year-old daughter in a townhouse at Superior Highlands, near Lutsen. Bruce and Anna ran in a 25-kilometer trail race, and we babysat Maria and watched them come through the finish line together. It was fun to spend the weekend with them!

Here are Daniel and me in Grand Marais, looking at the choppy water. (Last time we were in Grand Marais, I was very pregnant!) It was pretty cold there, and I bought that fleece hat moments earlier at the old Ben Franklin department store in Grand Marais for $5.99. (Like I needed another winter hat ...) This morning, when we got up, there was even a light dusting of snow everywhere. It was a strange thing to see in mid-May.

more baby firsts

Now that Daniel has started to pull himself up to a standing position, we've had to lower the crib mattress to its lowest setting. That was a fun job. (Here it's at its middle setting.) Steve said when it comes time to dismantle it altogether, he's going to get a chainsaw. I think crawling is just around the corner. We're going to have to start baby-proofing the house!

Daniel also has started waving "hi" to people, and it's so sweet! He started the night we got back from California — Steve was out cutting the lawn, and we went to watch him, and Daniel started waving and grinning. Every day now, it seems like he is growing up more and more.

why, why, why?

I cannot understand why Melinda Doolittle was voted off American Idol tonight. I am so upset about this. For me, she was the best performer all season and the clear-cut winner. I figured next week's final round would be between Melinda and Blake or Melinda and Jordin — not Blake and Jordin. What happened? Steve thinks it might have been the youth vote; Blake and Jordin both are younger and probably have more youth appeal, and maybe it's a younger viewership. Obviously the 10 votes I called in for her last night weren't enough. Grrrr ... :-(

(For the record, this is the first season I have watched American Idol — and now I understand why it is so addictive!)

california :: a picture a day

Our trip was amazing — full of sun and wine and ocean and cypress and redwood trees and good visits with friends and family. Not to say that we didn't have our moments of tired snappiness and meltdowns, but every so often, I found myself in such a state of happiness that my body tingled. Daniel traveled really well for a baby of his age, and the long spells in the car went better than expected. We got back Sunday night and walked out of the airport into 92-degree temps — I can't believe it's hotter here in Minnesota than it was the whole week there. (It's cooler today, though.) I have more than 300 pictures in iPhoto to sort through; I'm going to post one per day to recap the trip.

Saturday: Sonoma

We visited a couple of wineries over the weekend (and UPS arrived this afternoon to deliver the bottles we bought and had shipped home). I can't say I became a wine expert, but the tastings were fun. (Maybe too fun!) We drove through Napa briefly on Tuesday and decided we like Sonoma better as far as wine country goes. It's smaller and less touristy overall. Kind of like Melbourne versus Sydney. Here we are in the vineyard of one small winery we visited.



Sunday: Wedding

One of Steve's friends got married in a Jewish ceremony at one of the vineyards in Sonoma. Both the wedding and the setting were beautiful. Unfortunately, we had to leave before dinner was served because Daniel needed to get to bed. He was still on Minnesota time, after all.



Monday: More wine country

We spent part of the day at the Jack London State Historic Park north of Sonoma, where we learned more about his life and hiked in (and in Daniel's case, on) the woods. He grew up in Oakland but spent quite a bit of time up here (and died and was buried here) — and no wonder. It's gorgeous mountain country. I bought a copy of his autobiography, John Barleycorn, an "alcoholic memoir," as a memento.



Tuesday: Danville and Pleasanton

Monday night we drove to Danville, just east of San Francisco, and spent the night with my Aunt Gloria and Uncle Bruce. My cousin Jim, whom I hadn't seen in 20-some years, and his family, whom I'd never met, came for dinner. It was great to reconnect with everyone. We also visited Steve's aunt and uncle in nearby Pleasanton before heading to Santa Cruz and Carmel.



Wednesday: Carmel

Unknown to me, a young Tibetan monk was walking down toward the ocean when Steve snapped this picture. It's one of my favorites. It says California to me. We spent two nights in Carmel-by-the-Sea, revisiting some of the places we saw on our honeymoon. It was as charming as ever, although I was sad that the Dansk outlet store (where I bought a set of dessert bowls four years earlier) is no longer there. :(



Thursday: Big Sur

Breathtaking views of the ocean, tranquil redwood forests. This was a magical day.



Friday: San Simeon

I guess it was worth the $20 admission fee to see Hearst Castle at least once in my life. It was pretty spectacular. This is the much-photographed outdoor Neptune pool. It was very foggy that morning.



Saturday: Santa Monica and Venice Beach

We spent our last two nights in Santa Monica and didn't get in the car once. Walking down the Venice Beach boardwalk, I kept looking for the scenes I'd heard about that exemplify the spirit of Venice Beach ... hippy girls in bikinis on rollerskates or something. I wasn't feeling the vibe. It seemed very touristy and gimmicky to me. And then this man strolled by, and I had my Venice Beach moment.



Sunday: Santa Monica

On our last morning, I looked out the window of our motel and found that the quiet park across the street had been transformed into a busy farmer's market. We strolled over before leaving for the airport and had a delicious breakfast of crepes while we sat on the grass. It was Mother's Day, and I was amazed at how many strangers wished me a happy Mother's Day. It was a lovely way to end our trip.



Thanks for looking!

going to california

Tomorrow we leave for eight days in California! Our excuse for going is a wedding in Sonoma, so we're flying into San Francisco and renting a car. After the wedding — and exploring wine country — we'll drive down the coast highway to Los Angeles, where we'll leave to fly home on Mother's Day. We're planning to see a few friends and relatives along the way, though there won't be time to meet up with everyone we know in the Bay Area. We aren't even planning to go into San Francisco itself.

All week I've been humming that Grateful Dead song (Estimated Prophet — I had to Google it for the title) that goes:

California, preaching on the burning shore
California, I'll be knocking on the golden door
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light
Rising up to paradise, I know I'm gonna shine.

That, or the Led Zeppelin song:

Made up my mind to make a new start
Going to California with an aching in my heart.

Last night, we were out in the "back 40," transplanting some perennials and digging up a new spot in the yard that we're converting from lawn to garden. Daniel sat on a blanket and pulled up grass. He's been getting outside with me this week while I pull weeds (which I find strangely satisfying), and we have a good time in the fresh air. I can't wait to get back so we can really get our hands dirty. But for now, I have loose ends to tie up before we go — laundry, dishes, and figuring out how to pack eight days worth of baby clothes, diapers and formula.

Have a good week, all!

after the bath

This boy loves his bath time — and he sure knows how to work the camera. He can be in the worst mood, but if we start taking pictures, he lights up and turns into a little ham. I don't know if he's made the connection between the camera and the pictures it produces (doubtful) or if he just senses that it's all about him and feels special. At any rate, it's hilarious to watch him in action! He's the same way around the ladies. Store clerks just adore him, and so do the teenage girls who sit behind us at church.