Archive | December, 2007

Weekend bonus shot, 12.29.07 (extendo version)

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The Jule Nisse strikes again, Dorrington, CA.

Along with my holiday well-wishes, gentle reader, please accept my sincerest apologies. LD went dark, as they say in the theater world. Due to an unexpected lack of internet access, it spent a week as the blogular analog to AWOL: Offline With Out Notice, or OWON. (Not that I see that nouveau acronym taking off anytime soon.)

Back to our regularly scheduled chit-chat on Monday. Meanwhile, I’ve got a few more pictures and some catching up after the jump.

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Weekend bonus shot, 12.22.07

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Her first solo ride, Tilden Carosel (nighttime holiday extravaganza of lights), Berkeley, CA.

Happy Solstice!

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Merry Christmas, Baba!

Glo-oooooo-oooooo-oooooo-ria, Hosanna in excelsis!

[Yep, that’s what you think it is. (For further elucidation, pls. refer to “Euphemisms for urinate” on this dandy page.) She did it of her own volition, positively flying to the bathroom with the banner headline trailing out of her mouth “I have to pee I have to pee I have to pee!” God bless us every one.]

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Things you can do with a bowl

(Other than eat food out of it.)



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O holy cow

It is time now to speak of the COW which our girlie had a week or two back. It was a full-blown, veins popping out of her neck, two-tone heterodyne scream-filled, wee fists wailing on inanimate objects, spittle coming out with bursts of speech, fifteen-minute-long COW. A COW of such generous proportions that I was half expecting her head to spin ‘round 360 degrees and spew split pea soup, à la Linda Blair in The Exorcist. The little guy would have been alarmed, I’m sure, but I’d have just ducked and covered his head.

Everyone who’s tended a toddler knows whereof I speak, to one degree or another. And we just got a peek at tantrum in the first degree. Even if you’ve conveniently forgotten these concentrated hits of uncut, unregulated emotion, I assure you your kid did something along these lines. Heck, we all did something along these lines, back when we were hacking our way through the underbrush of our as-yet untamed prefrontal cortexes, or what have you. You know, back in the frontier days, when the still-clumsy frontal lobe (reason! self control!) was trying to get a leg up on the fully-intact, robust amygdala (fight! flight!).

The lil’ monkey’s COW began with the flip of a switch. (Here’s how I picture the switch, by the way.) Continue Reading →

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