Thank you all for your comments of condolence on the other post. I've been reading them in batches when I can spare a moment.

Chad has a nice post about his memories this morning that I'd like to co-sign.


( Read more... )

( who died last night at age 13 )

Cutest baby in the universe has a mild sinus infection and is thus disrupting parental schedules like whoa. (Seven-month developmental post coming, honest.)

Best Emmy ever is on FaceBook.

(Chad has news about his book forthcoming, which is why.)

And I'm not feeling so great myself, but I have a brief that absolutely positively has to be written ( Read more... )

The dog has just pulled off the table and eaten one prenatal vitamin, one calcium pill, and two fiber tablets. (Either she didn't like the first calcium pill or I got to her before she could eat the second one.)

In the past she's eaten Rolaids softchews-which she loved so much that afterwards she'd go after empty wrappers-which I could sort-of ( Read more... )

On one hand, it's almost reassuring to try on maternity jeans that are so long that I could use them as footie pajamas, because at least it's clear that they are meant to be altered, rather than the manufacturers having peculiar ideas about the length of women's legs.

On the other hand, I should not have to have jeans altered just because I'm ( Read more... )

While I work and suffer from the Wintertime Blues [*] and unusual prose sensitivity [**], Chad discusses our book shelves; poses a cheery hypothetical on love and death in preparation for teaching "Story of Your Life" (spoilers); and posts a more detailed explanation of the pregnancy health issues. And the dog hunts squeaky toys in the snow.

[*] ( Read more... )

Chad bought a presentation remote thingy for his Boskone talk and just broke it out.

Dogs chase laser-pointers, too.

At great length, and with attempts to eat the little dot, even.

(And then sniff under the couch and in corners trying to figure out where it went.)

Under thirty seconds left in the Super Bowl, Giants up 3, Chad and I on the edge of our seats . . . and the dog is snoring loudly enough to be heard over the TV.

Emmy is a German Shepherd mix, the mix being something small, floppy-eared, and no more a water dog than a German is. She is also crate-trained, and her crate (which is much too big for her) sits immediately to the right of the back door. Chad has a picture, complete with mangled literary reference.

This morning, a summer thunderstorm was pouring ( Read more... )

The most important news first: I'm an aunt! Six weeks earlier than expected, but the daughter of my brother and his wife appears to be doing well regardless.

Much cookout food the last two weeks. We held one here last weekend, at which the dog ate a piece of pineapple (from the ground) and half a piece of bread (from the hand of a small child, who ( Read more... )