avablog

We hopped into the car and drove up to Lake Zurich, IL for the weekend to visit a friend of mine. The weather was much nicer there than it was supposed to be, so we were able to get outside for lots of fun activities. My Flickr stream is bulging with about 40 shots from the trip (culled from the 270 or so that were on my CF card when we got back).

We grilled out this evening for the first time this season. Red snapper prepared with a little salt, pepper, olive oil, and lemon juice. Our friends Andy, Sarah, and their son Mac came over for dinner, too, which was a nice end to the weekend. I haven’t touched a computer since we left on Friday morning, which feels good. If the coming week is even a third as hellish as I’m expecting it to be, I figure I’ll be sick and tired of looking at a computer screen come about noon on Tuesday.

Deelish.

In the last 24 hours, I’ve found out that four women I know are pregnant. Spring has sprung, I guess. This morning, Ava came in while I was getting ready and patted my tummy. She said, “Do you have a baby in there, Mom?” I said, “No,” and she said, “Well, it looks like you do.” (Isn’t that great?! What a self-esteem booster!) Then she said, “I wish we could have a baby, Mom. I would be the best big sister if you had a baby. I’d feed her from my nipples, and then I’d go get my driver’s license and drive her everywhere she needs to go. And I’d give her my booster seat and take care of her.” I tried to hide the tears in my eyes when I hugged her. It’s just one of those days.

What a gray, dreary day here! They’re talking about the “S” word, possibly, for this weekend, which isn’t doing much for my mood. Time for a pick-me-up:

Ava spent a couple hours with her Gramary the other day, during which time this photo was taken (by Gramary). I swear sometimes Ava is part duck (on Leah’s side, of course).

I’ve been tracking my MacBook as it makes its way through the repair process at Apple. Unfortunately, this amounts to a three-stage process: Computer received, Repair, Computer shipped. Not heavy on details.

So I had a FedEx shipping notification hanging off my door when I got home this evening. Tomorrow I’ll know if Apple actually repaired my laptop or just sent it back with a curtly-worded note with directions on how to buy a new battery. Oh, and by the way, my HDD has been erased. Have a nice day!

I miss you, MacBook. Come home safely!

It’s painful to watch loved ones make bad decisions. That’s how I’m feeling this morning about flickr’s decision yesterday to include videos on their site. I haven’t had much opportunity to really consider the implications of this move, but I do know that — for me — the act of looking at a photo is very, very different than watching a video. The prevailing thought at flickr seems to be that anyone who loves looking at pictures will positively adorelooking at moving pictures. Well, count me out.

Are still photos and videos merely birds of a feather to you? I’m really interested to know your thoughts.

Leah told me today that I’ve been neglecting the blog. Too true. Guilty as charged.

My trip to Nashville last week went well. The drive takes just under nine hours, and the countryside is really nice. I didn’t take as many pictures as I would’ve liked, but I was busy at my conference. I always assume that anyone who’s reading this has access to my flickr account, but if not, here’s one of my pics from downtown Nashville:

That’s one of the old car bridges that’s now been mostly replaced by fancier, newer models slightly upriver. This one, though, has it all over the new ones in the looks dept.

My apologies for the dearth of posts these last couple days.

Mark always tells me that I have obsessive-compulsive disorder, and though that’s a gross exaggeration, there is a kernel of truth to his accusation: I do indulge in some obsessive behaviors. However, last I checked, I still could leave the house without ritualistically rubbing the light switch 200 times.
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I’m off for Nashvegas in the morning. Google tells me the drive is going to take me about 9.5 hours. We’ll see. I think I saw my rental car in the lot at work as I left this evening, and if it is the one I think it is, it’s going to be a long, long drive. I’ll post pictures.

I’ll be back early Saturday morning, if all goes according to plan. Leah says I should stay overnight in Nashville on Friday night, but I ain’t even trying to hear that.

I have enough trouble in my daily life without my favorite computer company hassling me. Yesterday, the battery on my MacBook died. It looked like this.
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Two days, three birthdays. That’s a lot of celebratin’. Let’s relive the weekend in cakes, shall we?

First, Alex’s cake:

Next up, Dawn’s cake:

Last, and not in any way least, Mac’s cake from this afternoon:

Sarah really went crazy on Mac’s cake, as you can see. Ava managed to wrangle herself a car with jellybeans in it, so she was set.

In between parties, we got most of the yard raked and looking a little spruced up. I’m feeling a little beat. Ava was a great help, scooping up and loading leaves and sticks into our yard waste container. She’s much more help this year than she was last. That’s not saying much, considering she was almost totally useless last year.

Some guys just don’t know when they’ve got it good:

SALEM, N.H.—Two former employees of an Apple Computer store in Salem, New Hampshire have been charged with stealing more than 300 trendy iPhones.

Police say the two stole 332 phones, valued at more than $130,000, from the store at the Mall at Rockingham Park.

Twenty-two-year-old Christopher Nashed of Sandown and 28-year-old Joshua Garrard of Methuen, Massachusetts, were arrested on Wednesday.

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I’ve been going through Flickr and looking at old pictures of Ava today, trying to cleanse my mind. I’ve been gazing at her small, wrinkled baby feet, trying to forget about the woman I know from the gym whose husband murdered her yesterday.

We waved “hello” and made small talk about the gym and our children. We worked out, side by side, on the elliptical machines. We ran into each other at the library with our daughters and introduced them, chatting over the wooden dollhouse in the children’s section.

Nothing is certain yet, but the word is that her husband put a bag over her head and beat her to death, along with their four children, who ranged in age from 3 to 10.

The brain just can’t comprehend. I guess that’s why I want to gaze at those tiny toes and try not to think.

I’ll admit it: I was a rotten teenager. I was the one your parents warned you about–the antisocial, punk-rock poseur. Actually, though I was pretty rebellious for small-town Iowa, I imagine my antics wouldn’t have caused much commotion in a bigger city. I shaved part of my hair and dyed it purple. I wore black leggings, black miniskirts, and Sex Pistol t-shirts. I smoked cigarettes, of all varieties, and shoplifted rolling papers from the local grocery store. All in all, I was a parent’s nightmare–but not the worst of the worst.
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Just in case I ever forget: This world is as terrible and brutal and insane as it is wonderful and gentle and wise. There’s no understanding it, only living in it and hoping for the best.

Ava’s latest “thing” is to tell me how unfair it is that we don’t let her do this or that (mostly eat candy, lately). I always tell her life isn’t fair, and today I’m especially glad that she’s too young to fully grasp the horrifying breadth of that sentiment. I wish she could stay this way.

I promised Georgie I was going to write this post, so, here it is. This is a picture of Ava taken in G.G.’s bedroom the morning we left Ava to come up to Minneapolis:

In case you can’t make it out by clicking on the image for the larger size, those are stickpins she’s playing with. There’s nothing like the comfort a parent gets knowing his child is safe under the watchful gaze of a competent family member. Such is the price of freedom, I suppose.

In an effort to make winter last as long as possible, we’re heading north to Minneapolis this weekend to spend a couple days with Leah’s sister and brother-in-law. We’re dropping off Ava in Decorah at Grandma Georgie’s; that’s where we are now.

This afternoon Ava participated in her first peace rally. She even got to see real live doves released into the sky. Here she is with her sign:

She insisted on holding this herself. We didn’t march the entire route, but we stayed in it long enough to give Ava a feel for it. As we drove home, we tried to explain why people were marching. Ever try to explain what a bomb is to a three-year-old? I think every adult in the world should have to do that at least a couple times a year.

We walked downtown to grab coffee over the weekend and took the opportunity to stop in a park along the way to pretend like it’s spring.

Ava likes to play Three Billy Goats Gruff with Leah these days. Ava plays the billy goat. Guess which role Leah gets? (Hint: It’s the troll.)

I just finished reading Barack Obama’s most recent speech, and you know, I really miss having a president who can speak well. One who is eloquent. One with some presence. Some class. Clinton could do it. And Reagan had a flair for delivery, too.

I understand that “he talks good” isn’t a great reason for choosing a president, given the long list of more valid criteria one should address, but wow, I can’t even imagine Bush stuttering through any of Obama’s speeches from this campaign. And as wrong-headed as it may be, it’s important to me that the person who speaks on my behalf to other world leaders, and to tyrants, and to world leaders who are tyrants, at least gives the impression that his words have been considered, that he can make it through a couple paragraphs without shrugging his shoulders, shuffling his feet, and donning some dumbass, shitkicker grin that he doesn’t even come by honestly. Surely there’s nothing wrong with wanting to be inspired?

From “The Cedar Rapids Gazette:”

BABY BOOMLET
What’s happening: Births are surging in the U.S.
Why: Peer pressure, immigration and shifting priorities play roles
Trend is quite evident around the Corridor

By Carly Weber

If it seems like every woman you know is pregnant, trying to start a family or cooing over a newborn, they probably are.

Nearly 4.3 million babies were born in the United States in 2006, according to the National Vital Statistics Report released in December.

That’s the most births since 1961, during the height of this nation’s largest baby boom.

It’s also the biggest single-year increase since 1989.

Eastern Iowans in the baby business say those numbers aren’t just a one-year blip. It would seem we’re in the midst of another baby boom.