Lemon-Scented Bivouac  


Fatherly and, eventually, teacherly blather. Also: graphic design, baseball, synthetic fabrics, jug band music and, lord help us, the occasional politics.


Friday, April 11, 2003  

 
One Mr. Wiley Wiggins created this story of trailer park life in despair out of The Sims.

  posted by Andy @ 9:24 PM §



 
The BBC has a marvelous website called Video Nation, for which very ordinary citizens around England and elsewhere have sent in very ordinary videos, mostly of themselves talking to the camera for a minute or two, or showing a few details from their lives. Of course these ordinary journal entries are tremendously fun -- and addictive viewing.

You should especially watch the short films of Annis Tomkinson. She and her husband Gordon run a small Shropshire farm and she shoots some little vignettes of the livestock life, including birthing a calf, explaining to her grandson why his favorite sheep must be "sent to market", and explaining that she still loves Gordon.

  posted by Andy @ 2:06 PM §


Thursday, April 10, 2003  

 


  posted by Andy @ 9:34 PM §


Wednesday, April 09, 2003  

 
Please don't miss John Moe's Amazon lists (the link is to someone else's best-of, but he really did get the best of them.) And now John Moe has a blog, which is where I'll pilfer material for a while.

  posted by Andy @ 10:59 AM §


Tuesday, April 08, 2003  

 
And this bit of overheard conversation is pilfered from Dana, who heard it at her C-section follow-up appointment today. Apparently another patient was showing her daughter to a nurse. Her daughter had hair as wispy and newbornish as Elliott's:

Nurse: I just want to know how you got that bow to stay in her hair.
Mother: Corn syrup.

  posted by Andy @ 5:39 PM §



 


Yhhhewww. Just came down from an intense little screaming fit from Mr. Baby, who had to be swaddled about as tight as in this illustration. Something about those arms waving free gets Mr. Baby intensely upset -- grunting and squeaking and then, suddenly, blaring, then blaring in extremis then left just with that white-hot scream in which he's screaming so hard no sound comes out (and his face is purple). A friend loaned me a book on colic -- she was probably eager to dump it for the same reason I was eager to ignore it; namely, that it features an infomercial style and features testimonials from Michelle Pfeiffer and name-drops Madonna.
It does seem to work, though. The Holy Way involves swaddling him tighter than an athlete tapes a sore ankle; jiggling his head even faster than a nervous guy like me bounces his leg; and saying "SHHH" louder than he screams. (There's also a pacifier involved, but we're going without that for the time being.)
Somehow this all seems to tap a nerve deep down that drops him right into a deep sleep, one of those uninterruptable sleeps that he gets a few times a day anyway. Then you can dance him around the house and play They Might Be Giants at top volume and he'll sleep through the whole thing. Strange.
So now we have this dilemma: We can make him sleep at will. We can't make him enjoy being awake. Sometimes he does, but he always seems just a touch uncomfortable. (Actually he has a pure, enraptured awake time at 4:10 a.m. and I, last night, stopped finding it so rare and valuable that I would stay awake for it; I put him in his bassinet with some guilt.)
The conclusion is that our awake, interested, comfortable baby is still unavailable for more than just guest appearances. I would guess he's due to arrive in, like the ads say, 6-8 weeks.

  posted by Andy @ 5:09 PM §

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