So...Lynn and I decided Rex was old enough to not freaking sleep in our room any more at night. Don't get us wrong: He needed to be nearer to us during his months of ear infections. But we'd hit a stride with him. He was getting himself well back to sleep on the rare occasions that he was waking up. Ear infections seem to be past with ear tubes and better weather. He's sleeping til about 6.15 am, which is late morning in babyworld.
We'd tried to merge the boys in Ben's room (now redubbed Ben and Rex's room) several months ago. We had a couple decent nights and then two that just didn't work. We gave up until Rex was further along. We decided we had slept well enough that we could stand some midnight wakings, and we figured the boys might actually sooth each other.
The whole thing has gone far, far better than we anticipated, partly due to both kids' love for each and sweet natures.
The first night, we put Rex into his crib, where he often naps, and he was a little confused, but went to sleep right away. Half an hour later, we go in with Ben, and Rex wakes, disturbed and a little unhappy. I soothe him and put him back down, and Ben is in bed. But after a while, it's clear that Rex is too excited. Ben, on the other hand, has fallen deeply asleep. Lynn fetches Rex and he spends the night happily sleeping in our bedroom.
Night 2 was just awesome. Rex goes down. Passes out. Ben comes in, Rex doesn't wake. Both kids sleep til 6 am. I get Rex up and Ben sleeps another hour.
Night 3 was interesting. Rex never fell asleep when he was put down, and when Ben came in, he was pretty alert. The two guys talked pleasantly to each other for a while, and then Ben fell asleep even as Rex is hurling his new stuff animal (a border collie we named "Dubbly" after my brother-in-law's late, lamented Dolby) around the crib and saying, "Dog! Dog!" (Or rather, "Daw! Daw!")
We have a friend over for dessert, and our attention is split between said friend, amused by all this, and the baby monitors where we're seeing action. Finally, our friend says, I think things are quiet. And they are! Rex and Ben managed to put themselves to sleep even with the excitement, and they slept til 6.15 this morning.
When I heard them, Ben was singing (his normal way of waking up, how lovely), and Rex was just getting up. I shut the door to our bedroom, and got Rex up and suggested to Ben that he might go back asleep. Ben tried, but he was too excited that Rex is now sharing his room with him. Rex was, too.
Knock wood and make the sign of the evil eye, but we have two pretty great kids. Who could have hoped that they'd get along at this age so well? They might be more contentious later, and that's normal, but this is pretty cool indeed.
Lynn and I engaged in very adult activities in bed: talking and reading books.
";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:3:"Rex";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-06-16T09:46:18-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:3062:"So...Lynn and I decided Rex was old enough to not freaking sleep in our room any more at night. Don't get us wrong: He needed to be nearer to us during his months of ear infections. But we'd hit a stride with him. He was getting himself well back to sleep on the rare occasions that he was waking up. Ear infections seem to be past with ear tubes and better weather. He's sleeping til about 6.15 am, which is late morning in babyworld.
We'd tried to merge the boys in Ben's room (now redubbed Ben and Rex's room) several months ago. We had a couple decent nights and then two that just didn't work. We gave up until Rex was further along. We decided we had slept well enough that we could stand some midnight wakings, and we figured the boys might actually sooth each other.
The whole thing has gone far, far better than we anticipated, partly due to both kids' love for each and sweet natures.
The first night, we put Rex into his crib, where he often naps, and he was a little confused, but went to sleep right away. Half an hour later, we go in with Ben, and Rex wakes, disturbed and a little unhappy. I soothe him and put him back down, and Ben is in bed. But after a while, it's clear that Rex is too excited. Ben, on the other hand, has fallen deeply asleep. Lynn fetches Rex and he spends the night happily sleeping in our bedroom.
Night 2 was just awesome. Rex goes down. Passes out. Ben comes in, Rex doesn't wake. Both kids sleep til 6 am. I get Rex up and Ben sleeps another hour.
Night 3 was interesting. Rex never fell asleep when he was put down, and when Ben came in, he was pretty alert. The two guys talked pleasantly to each other for a while, and then Ben fell asleep even as Rex is hurling his new stuff animal (a border collie we named "Dubbly" after my brother-in-law's late, lamented Dolby) around the crib and saying, "Dog! Dog!" (Or rather, "Daw! Daw!")
We have a friend over for dessert, and our attention is split between said friend, amused by all this, and the baby monitors where we're seeing action. Finally, our friend says, I think things are quiet. And they are! Rex and Ben managed to put themselves to sleep even with the excitement, and they slept til 6.15 this morning.
When I heard them, Ben was singing (his normal way of waking up, how lovely), and Rex was just getting up. I shut the door to our bedroom, and got Rex up and suggested to Ben that he might go back asleep. Ben tried, but he was too excited that Rex is now sharing his room with him. Rex was, too.
Knock wood and make the sign of the evil eye, but we have two pretty great kids. Who could have hoped that they'd get along at this age so well? They might be more contentious later, and that's normal, but this is pretty cool indeed.
Lynn and I engaged in very adult activities in bed: talking and reading books.
";}i:1;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008349.html";s:5:"title";s:16:"Elihu Supersizes";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008349.html";s:11:"description";s:5618:"My alma mater, Yale, tired of turning away qualified applicants, is boosting storage space, er, dormitories, um, residential colleges! They're building 2 more for a total of 14. Yale's colleges, each of which houses about 400 to 500 students, date back mostly to the 1930s, with the last two built in the 1960s. Old Campus houses about 80% of freshmen, in historic buildings, renovated every once in a while to put in central heating or insulation.
The new colleges will be ready by 2013, and increase enrollment by about 15 percent (from roughly 5,200 today). The alumni interviewing committee just sent out a flyer that said only about 8 percent of applicants were accepted in this year's pool, down more than a percent from last year, partly because of the change in financial aid increasing applicants. The committee wanted to let us know as alumni interviewers that a lot of great kids we met simply wouldn't be getting in--only 1 in 11 would be admitted!
I had the good and bad luck to be assigned to Ezra Stiles (think: Harry Potter's Sorting Hat without any of the subtlety as to why you were assigned into a particular college). Nothing per se wrong with the place, but we were ultima thule for the north end of campus, adjacent to Dixwell Avenue, and the projects, one of the most dangerous parts of New Haven, which was full of dangerous parts in those days (and reportedly enormously less so these days). The crack epidemic was rampant, and there were a lot, a lot, a lot of shootings.
Because Yale operates partly egalitarian, partly legacy, if you had a relative who was in a given college, like Berkeley or Jonathan Edwards, you'd have preference for that college on admission. You could also relatively easily transfer colleges if there were housing space following freshman year.
This meant that Ezra Stiles (named for enlightened former Yale head who practiced unity and peace) and Morse (named for famous Yalie and famous slaveholder Samuel F.B. Morse) were disproportionately full of first-generation Yalies. We were no ghetto of less-privileged folks (my family was probably technically poor when I applied to Yale), but it was a different mix. (One of my freshman year roommates--tiny private rooms in a suite of 6--was the son and great-nephew of Yalies.)
Morse and Ezra Stiles were designed by Eero Saarinen, a fabulous forward-thinking architect who designed a lot of great-looking modern buildings that turned out to be totally unsuitable for their purposes. Don't blame him. He died during the colleges' construction, and plans went awry, according to histories I read.
Heating was originally in pipes beneath the stone floors (designed to look like rough pathways even in rooms). That apparently failed within a couple of years. Baseboard heating was installed, which worked erratically, and sometimes made a lot of noise (in my sophomore year). The colleges need a massive renovation, which will happen. Yale has been renovated all the colleges over time, shuffling students for that year into a "swing" college, which apparently won't be used as one of the two new colleges.
The "birds' eye" shot above from Microsoft's Live.com shows how attractively conceived the two colleges were, each in a half moon with a tower (for density) anchoring each side. THe colleges weren't connected except at the kitchen, which was underground! You could walk through between the two if desired, but folks rarely did.
For some reason, I knew virtually no one in Morse College, even though at my 10th reunion I met a woman who has become one my dearest friends who was in Morse. In comparing notes, we wound up finding one person we both knew in common, even though we were both in the humanities.
I'm hoping the new colleges aren't quite as cutting edge in terms of features, but rather focus on being both attractive and functional.
My biggest disappointment as an undergraduate was the master and dean of my college. The master is in charge of student life; the dean, of academic life. The master, while not a bad fellow, was very out of tune with us (he made peculiar jokes about Asian students ancestors doing his laundry, but he didn't do so with any malice), and really bonded only well with the jocks. He was well known for not shutting down parties unless they got out of hand (cf., the Deca-dance).
The dean was aloof, icy, and irritable, and had a few favorites, while the rest of us were so much dross. She got married while I was an undergrad, and essentially lived off campus, even though the dean and master's roles involve them living term-time in the college. I didn't mind her absence. When I hit academic problems in freshman year, she was entirely unsympathetic. Later, a miscommunication with the registrar's office via her secretary almost led to me not graduating. She grudgingly helped out. (The Registrar, who I met with, was infinitely more helpful.)
I made a fair amount of my life within the college, and enjoyed my friends there. I always had someone to eat with, and there was only a slight amount of cliquishness. I made most of my life outside the college working in theater at times, and for the weekly newspaper all four years. It worked out just fine, lest I sound bitter.
My alma mater, Yale, tired of turning away qualified applicants, is boosting storage space, er, dormitories, um, residential colleges! They're building 2 more for a total of 14. Yale's colleges, each of which houses about 400 to 500 students, date back mostly to the 1930s, with the last two built in the 1960s. Old Campus houses about 80% of freshmen, in historic buildings, renovated every once in a while to put in central heating or insulation.
The new colleges will be ready by 2013, and increase enrollment by about 15 percent (from roughly 5,200 today). The alumni interviewing committee just sent out a flyer that said only about 8 percent of applicants were accepted in this year's pool, down more than a percent from last year, partly because of the change in financial aid increasing applicants. The committee wanted to let us know as alumni interviewers that a lot of great kids we met simply wouldn't be getting in--only 1 in 11 would be admitted!
I had the good and bad luck to be assigned to Ezra Stiles (think: Harry Potter's Sorting Hat without any of the subtlety as to why you were assigned into a particular college). Nothing per se wrong with the place, but we were ultima thule for the north end of campus, adjacent to Dixwell Avenue, and the projects, one of the most dangerous parts of New Haven, which was full of dangerous parts in those days (and reportedly enormously less so these days). The crack epidemic was rampant, and there were a lot, a lot, a lot of shootings.
Because Yale operates partly egalitarian, partly legacy, if you had a relative who was in a given college, like Berkeley or Jonathan Edwards, you'd have preference for that college on admission. You could also relatively easily transfer colleges if there were housing space following freshman year.
This meant that Ezra Stiles (named for enlightened former Yale head who practiced unity and peace) and Morse (named for famous Yalie and famous slaveholder Samuel F.B. Morse) were disproportionately full of first-generation Yalies. We were no ghetto of less-privileged folks (my family was probably technically poor when I applied to Yale), but it was a different mix. (One of my freshman year roommates--tiny private rooms in a suite of 6--was the son and great-nephew of Yalies.)
Morse and Ezra Stiles were designed by Eero Saarinen, a fabulous forward-thinking architect who designed a lot of great-looking modern buildings that turned out to be totally unsuitable for their purposes. Don't blame him. He died during the colleges' construction, and plans went awry, according to histories I read.
Heating was originally in pipes beneath the stone floors (designed to look like rough pathways even in rooms). That apparently failed within a couple of years. Baseboard heating was installed, which worked erratically, and sometimes made a lot of noise (in my sophomore year). The colleges need a massive renovation, which will happen. Yale has been renovated all the colleges over time, shuffling students for that year into a "swing" college, which apparently won't be used as one of the two new colleges.
The "birds' eye" shot above from Microsoft's Live.com shows how attractively conceived the two colleges were, each in a half moon with a tower (for density) anchoring each side. THe colleges weren't connected except at the kitchen, which was underground! You could walk through between the two if desired, but folks rarely did.
For some reason, I knew virtually no one in Morse College, even though at my 10th reunion I met a woman who has become one my dearest friends who was in Morse. In comparing notes, we wound up finding one person we both knew in common, even though we were both in the humanities.
I'm hoping the new colleges aren't quite as cutting edge in terms of features, but rather focus on being both attractive and functional.
My biggest disappointment as an undergraduate was the master and dean of my college. The master is in charge of student life; the dean, of academic life. The master, while not a bad fellow, was very out of tune with us (he made peculiar jokes about Asian students ancestors doing his laundry, but he didn't do so with any malice), and really bonded only well with the jocks. He was well known for not shutting down parties unless they got out of hand (cf., the Deca-dance).
The dean was aloof, icy, and irritable, and had a few favorites, while the rest of us were so much dross. She got married while I was an undergrad, and essentially lived off campus, even though the dean and master's roles involve them living term-time in the college. I didn't mind her absence. When I hit academic problems in freshman year, she was entirely unsympathetic. Later, a miscommunication with the registrar's office via her secretary almost led to me not graduating. She grudgingly helped out. (The Registrar, who I met with, was infinitely more helpful.)
I made a fair amount of my life within the college, and enjoyed my friends there. I always had someone to eat with, and there was only a slight amount of cliquishness. I made most of my life outside the college working in theater at times, and for the weekly newspaper all four years. It worked out just fine, lest I sound bitter.
I wrote a short, but I think interesting article about IPv6, the next-generation Internet address scheme, and why it's both critical but not urgent to transition to it. We're watching a very slow-moving accident as a train approaches a bunch of cars parked on a road, and everyone is mosying slowly to their cars, jangling their keys, to drive them off the tracks.
IPv6 replaces the current IPv4 addressing systems--numbers like 192.168.1.2--with a much larger set of possible numbers. 4 billion to the fourth power numbers, in fact. This isn't because we need untold sextillions of numbers. Rather, it's because it's easier to divvy the network up into large pieces when you start with large numbers.
IPv6 is backwards compatible with IPv4. You can use old addresses inside the new system, and new addresses can be hidden inside the old system. Over the next few years, we'll increasingly see IPv6 be used in broadband networks because of the sheer scale of devices they need to address uniquely.
I absolutely adore the illustration for the article--in the intro to the article, I describe IP addressing like plumbing.
";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:10:"Journalism";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-06-07T09:13:31-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:1399:"
I wrote a short, but I think interesting article about IPv6, the next-generation Internet address scheme, and why it's both critical but not urgent to transition to it. We're watching a very slow-moving accident as a train approaches a bunch of cars parked on a road, and everyone is mosying slowly to their cars, jangling their keys, to drive them off the tracks.
IPv6 replaces the current IPv4 addressing systems--numbers like 192.168.1.2--with a much larger set of possible numbers. 4 billion to the fourth power numbers, in fact. This isn't because we need untold sextillions of numbers. Rather, it's because it's easier to divvy the network up into large pieces when you start with large numbers.
IPv6 is backwards compatible with IPv4. You can use old addresses inside the new system, and new addresses can be hidden inside the old system. Over the next few years, we'll increasingly see IPv6 be used in broadband networks because of the sheer scale of devices they need to address uniquely.
I absolutely adore the illustration for the article--in the intro to the article, I describe IP addressing like plumbing.
";}i:4;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008334.html";s:5:"title";s:17:"Get Your Ferry On";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008334.html";s:11:"description";s:4453:"
Ben and I took a very brief trip to Port Townsend to visit the 'rents and my aunt and uncle on Thursday and Friday. This was kind of a dry run, since we have traveled about 5% as much as most of our friends with one or two kids. Ben has gone to Connecticut by plane three times (Lynn's parents), and I think to Eugene by car three times (my folks). Rex has never slept away from home, unbelievably.
But we're planning a modest trip in the fall to Maine, and we're thinking about traveling a bit more this summer, so we're trying to figure out how it might work. It was ok.
En route, we stopped at my friends Don and Lucy's home on Bainbridge Island. They have an acre, a barn, and other cool toys. Ben whiled away some of the visit harrowing.
Ben was generally a great traveler and held up well, but he had real trouble getting to sleep in a strange room (not surprising), taking about an hour longer than usual to get to sleep.
I told him if he had a bad dream, he could come out and find me, and he came out about 10 times over an hour. I finally went in with him and explained that he really needed to get to sleep so we could have a fun day the next day, asked him if he wanted me to lie on the bed with him to help him get to sleep. He said yes. So I lay down on the inflatable mattress with my back to his front, and I heard him to start to breathe heavy pretty quickly.
Then I felt a kiss on the back of my head, and then two small arms wrap around my neck. Ben said, "I'm asleep now." I got up very quietly and left the room, and he slept all night.
Well, until 4 am. He woke disoriented. I got him back to sleep, but it was a losing battle. He had a huge wet diaper, and then was just too excited. I couldn't get back to sleep during the moments he was back asleep, and he was really up from about 5.30 am on.
He didn't poop out during the day, although he was occasionally challenging. We wound up during the two days only being out of my aunt and uncle's house briefly, which is how trips work, anyway. It takes forever to get anywhere and then you have to leave.
My mom, dad, and I went to Fort Worden, where Lynn and I were married in 2002 (in a former dirigible hangar, thank you very much), and walked along the beach.
We rode a ferry over and back. We were the very very last car at the last moment on the Bainbridge Island (Winslow) ferry on Thursday morning. Literally, they kind of looked at us as we drove along the boarding area, shrugged, and waved us along. We came to a stop, they put chocks under our tires, and kicked off the dock.
This is the Walla Walla on the Kingston-Edmonds route below. I had to try the onboard Wi-Fi (it's free as part of my Boingo Wireless subscription), and it worked great.
I was pretty tired with about 5 hours sleep, but Ben's 8 hours wasn't enough, either.
Ben and I took a very brief trip to Port Townsend to visit the 'rents and my aunt and uncle on Thursday and Friday. This was kind of a dry run, since we have traveled about 5% as much as most of our friends with one or two kids. Ben has gone to Connecticut by plane three times (Lynn's parents), and I think to Eugene by car three times (my folks). Rex has never slept away from home, unbelievably.
But we're planning a modest trip in the fall to Maine, and we're thinking about traveling a bit more this summer, so we're trying to figure out how it might work. It was ok.
En route, we stopped at my friends Don and Lucy's home on Bainbridge Island. They have an acre, a barn, and other cool toys. Ben whiled away some of the visit harrowing.
Ben was generally a great traveler and held up well, but he had real trouble getting to sleep in a strange room (not surprising), taking about an hour longer than usual to get to sleep.
I told him if he had a bad dream, he could come out and find me, and he came out about 10 times over an hour. I finally went in with him and explained that he really needed to get to sleep so we could have a fun day the next day, asked him if he wanted me to lie on the bed with him to help him get to sleep. He said yes. So I lay down on the inflatable mattress with my back to his front, and I heard him to start to breathe heavy pretty quickly.
Then I felt a kiss on the back of my head, and then two small arms wrap around my neck. Ben said, "I'm asleep now." I got up very quietly and left the room, and he slept all night.
Well, until 4 am. He woke disoriented. I got him back to sleep, but it was a losing battle. He had a huge wet diaper, and then was just too excited. I couldn't get back to sleep during the moments he was back asleep, and he was really up from about 5.30 am on.
He didn't poop out during the day, although he was occasionally challenging. We wound up during the two days only being out of my aunt and uncle's house briefly, which is how trips work, anyway. It takes forever to get anywhere and then you have to leave.
My mom, dad, and I went to Fort Worden, where Lynn and I were married in 2002 (in a former dirigible hangar, thank you very much), and walked along the beach.
We rode a ferry over and back. We were the very very last car at the last moment on the Bainbridge Island (Winslow) ferry on Thursday morning. Literally, they kind of looked at us as we drove along the boarding area, shrugged, and waved us along. We came to a stop, they put chocks under our tires, and kicked off the dock.
This is the Walla Walla on the Kingston-Edmonds route below. I had to try the onboard Wi-Fi (it's free as part of my Boingo Wireless subscription), and it worked great.
I was pretty tired with about 5 hours sleep, but Ben's 8 hours wasn't enough, either.
I was given the pleasure of babysitting this fine child last night. My first time being asked to babysit, though perhaps nearly three years of caring for one child and one year of caring for two may qualify me. She's a sweetheart.
I was given the pleasure of babysitting this fine child last night. My first time being asked to babysit, though perhaps nearly three years of caring for one child and one year of caring for two may qualify me. She's a sweetheart.
I was about to leave my house to drive to Tacoma to a bar (crazy thing for a parent to actually a. leave the house at night and b. go to a bar) on Wednesday, and while I was putting the baby down for the night, I heard this loud humming I couldn't identify. At first, I thought our newish furnace was acting up again, but then realized the sound was coming from outside.
I walked out front to the car, looked up, and saw three freaking news helicopters hovering over the bus accident in the Arboretum. A genius bus driver, following his GPS and ignoring four signs (including flashing lights) about overheight vehicles shaved nearly two feet off his bus, and injured dozens of Garfield High School students on board.
This bridge is about six blocks from our house, a lovely and historically recognized bridge across Lake Washington Boulevard to the Washington Park Arboretum.
Goddamn copter vultures. I can understand sending photographers out; it's definitely news. But, please, breaking news? Bus hits bridge. That story ain't going to have more developments. Oop, wait, they got the bus out from under the bridge! Hurray! I wanted to call 911 and report the copters, but I couldn't figure out how to claim they were violating any laws. Just the laws of sanity and reason.
The students on the bus were members of the high school's softball teams, and one of the teams had just had a shutout loss. Adding insult to injury would be a severe understatement of the event. It sounds from reports that there were no serious injuries, but several kids were taken to the hospital.
The bridge was largely unhurt.
The bar I went to was Doyle's, which was superb.
";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:10:"Journalism";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-04-18T10:59:51-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:2144:"I was about to leave my house to drive to Tacoma to a bar (crazy thing for a parent to actually a. leave the house at night and b. go to a bar) on Wednesday, and while I was putting the baby down for the night, I heard this loud humming I couldn't identify. At first, I thought our newish furnace was acting up again, but then realized the sound was coming from outside.
I walked out front to the car, looked up, and saw three freaking news helicopters hovering over the bus accident in the Arboretum. A genius bus driver, following his GPS and ignoring four signs (including flashing lights) about overheight vehicles shaved nearly two feet off his bus, and injured dozens of Garfield High School students on board.
This bridge is about six blocks from our house, a lovely and historically recognized bridge across Lake Washington Boulevard to the Washington Park Arboretum.
Goddamn copter vultures. I can understand sending photographers out; it's definitely news. But, please, breaking news? Bus hits bridge. That story ain't going to have more developments. Oop, wait, they got the bus out from under the bridge! Hurray! I wanted to call 911 and report the copters, but I couldn't figure out how to claim they were violating any laws. Just the laws of sanity and reason.
The students on the bus were members of the high school's softball teams, and one of the teams had just had a shutout loss. Adding insult to injury would be a severe understatement of the event. It sounds from reports that there were no serious injuries, but several kids were taken to the hospital.
The bridge was largely unhurt.
The bar I went to was Doyle's, which was superb.
";}i:9;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008262.html";s:5:"title";s:11:"Little Time";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008262.html";s:11:"description";s:542:"Rex is nearly 1! Lynn is nearly __! (Never reveal a woman's age.) We are a bit tired. My parents just passed through on a visit; Lynn's mom is here now, and her dad arrives shortly. Rex is sleeping generally well, but 6 am is the latest he's getting up. Some mornings it's 5. He's waking at night every few nights. The ear infections are over, and we're trying to get into a new rhythm. Lynn and I are (knock wood) going to the nicest restaurant in Seattle Tuesday night to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary...which was last September.";s:2:"dc";a:2:{s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-04-07T20:12:21-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:542:"Rex is nearly 1! Lynn is nearly __! (Never reveal a woman's age.) We are a bit tired. My parents just passed through on a visit; Lynn's mom is here now, and her dad arrives shortly. Rex is sleeping generally well, but 6 am is the latest he's getting up. Some mornings it's 5. He's waking at night every few nights. The ear infections are over, and we're trying to get into a new rhythm. Lynn and I are (knock wood) going to the nicest restaurant in Seattle Tuesday night to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary...which was last September.";}i:10;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008223.html";s:5:"title";s:22:"New Blog, New Birthday";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008223.html";s:11:"description";s:366:"I was hired by PC World to write regular posts about hardware for small to medium sized businesses; it will appear as Glenn Fleishman on Hardware, a suitably dramatic name. Tomorrow, I am 40. Not terrifying at all. 41? That worries me. 42? Secret of the universe.";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:10:"Journalism";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-03-20T17:19:21-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:366:"I was hired by PC World to write regular posts about hardware for small to medium sized businesses; it will appear as Glenn Fleishman on Hardware, a suitably dramatic name. Tomorrow, I am 40. Not terrifying at all. 41? That worries me. 42? Secret of the universe.";}i:11;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008212.html";s:5:"title";s:9:"Choo Choo";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008212.html";s:11:"description";s:341:"I'm turning 40 in 9 days, and I know what I'm getting from my birthday. From Ben, at least. Ben started wearing underwear on Saturday; he was ready, and he is doing terrifically well. But he's concerned about my underwear. It's plain and white. He said, "I'll get you Thomas the Tank Engine underwear for your birthday, daddy." It's a deal! ";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:7:"Benisms";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-03-12T16:14:28-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:341:"I'm turning 40 in 9 days, and I know what I'm getting from my birthday. From Ben, at least. Ben started wearing underwear on Saturday; he was ready, and he is doing terrifically well. But he's concerned about my underwear. It's plain and white. He said, "I'll get you Thomas the Tank Engine underwear for your birthday, daddy." It's a deal! ";}i:12;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008205.html";s:5:"title";s:35:"Well, This Is a Fine Turn of Events";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008205.html";s:11:"description";s:2542:"Before I even turn 40 later this month, I find that someone is out to get me (and a million other people). (I did not make this up. It would be very hard to write this funny.)
Hello
I am very sorry for you , is a pity that this is how your life is
going to end as soon as you don't comply. As you can see there is no
need of introducing myself to you because I don't have any business
with you, my duty as I am mailing you now is just to KILL you and I
have to do it as I have already been paid for that.
Someone you call a friend wants you Dead by all means, and the person
have spent a lot of money on this, the person also came to us and told
me that he wanted you dead and he provided us with your name ,picture
and other necessary information's we needed about you. So I sent my
boys to track you down and they have carried out the necessary
investigation needed for the operation on you, and they have done that
but I told them not to kill you that I will like to contact you and
see if your life is Important to you or not since their findings shows
that you are innocent.
I called my client back and ask him of your email address which I
didn't tell him what I wanted to do with it and he gave it to me and I
am using it to contact you now. As I am writing to you now my men are
monitoring you and they are telling me everything about you.
Now do you want to LIVE OR DIE? As someone has paid us to kill you.
Get back to me now if you are ready to pay some fees to spare your
life, $15,000 is all you need to spend You will first of all pay
$8,000 then I will send a tape to you which i recoeded every discusion
i hade with the person who wanted you dead and as soon as you get the
tape, you will pay the remaining $7,000. If you are not ready for my
help, then I will carry on with my job straight-up.
WARNING: DO NOT THINK OF CONTACTING THE POLICE OR EVEN TELLING ANYONE
BECAUSE I WILL KNOW.REMEMBER, SOMEONE WHO KNOWS YOU VERY WELL WANT YOU
DEAD! I WILL EXTEND IT TO YOUR FAMILY, INCASE I NOTICE SOMETHING FUNNY.
DO NOT COME OUT ONCE IT IS 7:PM UNTIL I MAKE OUT TIME TO SEE YOU AND
GIVE YOU THE TAPE OF MY DISCUSSION WITH THE PERSON WHO WANT YOU DEAD
THEN YOU CAN USE IT TO TAKE ANY LEGAL ACTION. GOOD LUCK AS I AWAIT
YOUR REPLY via mail,killerofsoul11@gmail.com
Before I even turn 40 later this month, I find that someone is out to get me (and a million other people). (I did not make this up. It would be very hard to write this funny.)
Hello
I am very sorry for you , is a pity that this is how your life is
going to end as soon as you don't comply. As you can see there is no
need of introducing myself to you because I don't have any business
with you, my duty as I am mailing you now is just to KILL you and I
have to do it as I have already been paid for that.
Someone you call a friend wants you Dead by all means, and the person
have spent a lot of money on this, the person also came to us and told
me that he wanted you dead and he provided us with your name ,picture
and other necessary information's we needed about you. So I sent my
boys to track you down and they have carried out the necessary
investigation needed for the operation on you, and they have done that
but I told them not to kill you that I will like to contact you and
see if your life is Important to you or not since their findings shows
that you are innocent.
I called my client back and ask him of your email address which I
didn't tell him what I wanted to do with it and he gave it to me and I
am using it to contact you now. As I am writing to you now my men are
monitoring you and they are telling me everything about you.
Now do you want to LIVE OR DIE? As someone has paid us to kill you.
Get back to me now if you are ready to pay some fees to spare your
life, $15,000 is all you need to spend You will first of all pay
$8,000 then I will send a tape to you which i recoeded every discusion
i hade with the person who wanted you dead and as soon as you get the
tape, you will pay the remaining $7,000. If you are not ready for my
help, then I will carry on with my job straight-up.
WARNING: DO NOT THINK OF CONTACTING THE POLICE OR EVEN TELLING ANYONE
BECAUSE I WILL KNOW.REMEMBER, SOMEONE WHO KNOWS YOU VERY WELL WANT YOU
DEAD! I WILL EXTEND IT TO YOUR FAMILY, INCASE I NOTICE SOMETHING FUNNY.
DO NOT COME OUT ONCE IT IS 7:PM UNTIL I MAKE OUT TIME TO SEE YOU AND
GIVE YOU THE TAPE OF MY DISCUSSION WITH THE PERSON WHO WANT YOU DEAD
THEN YOU CAN USE IT TO TAKE ANY LEGAL ACTION. GOOD LUCK AS I AWAIT
YOUR REPLY via mail,killerofsoul11@gmail.com
This has got to be the laziest Nigerian-style spam I've ever seen:
Good Day ,
I'm Song Li, I work with the Hang Seng Bank here in Hong Kong. Although the internet is a very hard place to meet people because you don't know who to trust, what to believe and what not to.
I have an obscured business suggestion for you. There is the sum of
19,500,000.00 Dollars in my bank "Hang Seng Bank" Hong kong. There were no beneficiaries stated concerning these funds which means no one would ever come forward to claim it. That is why I ask that we work together so as to have the sun transferred out of my bank into your account.
Please do not be offended with the manner I contacted you. It was
necessitated by the urgency and nature of this transaction. Should you be interested please send me your;
1. Full names
2. Private phone number
3. Current residential address
Your can reach me on my private email: lisongli@yahoo.com.hk
Kind Regards,
Mr. Song Li.
sngligbiz
I have an obscured business suggestion for you, too, but it wouldn't involve a place the "sun" don't shine.
";s:2:"dc";a:3:{s:7:"subject";s:5:"Humor";s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-02-19T14:10:29-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:1167:"This has got to be the laziest Nigerian-style spam I've ever seen:
Good Day ,
I'm Song Li, I work with the Hang Seng Bank here in Hong Kong. Although the internet is a very hard place to meet people because you don't know who to trust, what to believe and what not to.
I have an obscured business suggestion for you. There is the sum of
19,500,000.00 Dollars in my bank "Hang Seng Bank" Hong kong. There were no beneficiaries stated concerning these funds which means no one would ever come forward to claim it. That is why I ask that we work together so as to have the sun transferred out of my bank into your account.
Please do not be offended with the manner I contacted you. It was
necessitated by the urgency and nature of this transaction. Should you be interested please send me your;
1. Full names
2. Private phone number
3. Current residential address
Your can reach me on my private email: lisongli@yahoo.com.hk
Kind Regards,
Mr. Song Li.
sngligbiz
I have an obscured business suggestion for you, too, but it wouldn't involve a place the "sun" don't shine.
";}i:14;a:6:{s:5:"about";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008186.html";s:5:"title";s:10:"Pollanated";s:4:"link";s:45:"http://blog.glennf.com/mtarchives/008186.html";s:11:"description";s:4198:"
Last night, I went to a restaurant to eat good food, mostly plants, not too much, with Michael Pollan. We weren't at the same table. Rather, the restaurant Lark was turned over on Valentine's Day into a two-seating, super-special book event, organized by my officemate Kim Ricketts, who runs a book events business that includes regular Cooks & Books events with folks who are chefs or focused on food, like Pollan. He was there to promote his manifesto, In Defense of Food. Pollan is a journalist and a writer whose prose I admire and would like to be able to emulate. The Botany of Desire and The Omnivore's Dilemma are two terrifically readable books with great underlying themes, never too heavy-handed. In Defense is definitely a polemic, however.
Lynn and I have been to Lark before, and had a great meal last time. Last night, we had wine paired with each course, which included nearly all local food, including farro (a wheat berry) prepared beautifully with foraged local mushrooms.
The restaurant's chef spoke briefly at the onset, then Pollan said a few words about good food and why he's trying to help lead a kind of movement to eat well, locally, and less intensively as a kind of new approach to health that's rooted in the best parts of food and eating before the 1900s and commercial-scale agriculture. He noted, ironically, that being on the road for 5 or 6 weeks to promote the book so far means that he's eaten horribly at every meal. At Lark, he had one of the few traveling meals that met the standards of his book!
Pollan stopped by each of the 20 or so tables for a few minutes to chat and sign books, and he's a cussedly nice man, even after spending hundreds of hours talking about his stuff, and signing thousands of books. (He signed 850 at Powell's just for them to sell to all comers; smart man.) I told him how my dad and I had switched from various forms of vegetarianism (I was really a fish-a-tarian at that point) after reading Omnivore's Dilemma; he said he'd heard a lot of that, but also the reverse. Some omnivores, reading the first half of the book about conventional food, which is terribly frightening, became vegetarians!
The Cooks & Books events--which sell out quick, so you can sign up at Kim's site to be notified when they are announced--pair a signed copy of the book by the author or chef, a terrific prix fixe meal typically with wine, and convivial communal seating. We were at a table of about 10, and found a close, late friend in common among my wife, me, and the fellow sitting next to me; talked about the history of agriculture; compared notes about favorite joints in the U District; and talked about nursing, the profession not the mothering kind, as one of our number was a nurse who just started at the big trauma/low-income hospital in Seattle.
Oh, and this also marked the first time Lynn and I went out for dinner since Rex was born. We've been out together before, and we've been out individually, and we regularly go out on our own on the weekends. But each time we'd tried to do a dinner out, one kid got sick, or two days before Rex starting waking up every hour after going down to sleep, etc. Our marvelous post-partum doula, who knows Ben and Rex very well, pinch-hit for us last night, and the kids didn't wake up. (She checked in on Ben, who she thought was about to fall out of bed, and he gave her a funny look and then went right to sleep. We had told him she would be there while we were out, but he was in bed before she arrived.)
";s:2:"dc";a:2:{s:7:"creator";s:6:"Glennf";s:4:"date";s:25:"2008-02-15T11:50:43-08:00";}s:7:"summary";s:4198:"
Last night, I went to a restaurant to eat good food, mostly plants, not too much, with Michael Pollan. We weren't at the same table. Rather, the restaurant Lark was turned over on Valentine's Day into a two-seating, super-special book event, organized by my officemate Kim Ricketts, who runs a book events business that includes regular Cooks & Books events with folks who are chefs or focused on food, like Pollan. He was there to promote his manifesto, In Defense of Food. Pollan is a journalist and a writer whose prose I admire and would like to be able to emulate. The Botany of Desire and The Omnivore's Dilemma are two terrifically readable books with great underlying themes, never too heavy-handed. In Defense is definitely a polemic, however.
Lynn and I have been to Lark before, and had a great meal last time. Last night, we had wine paired with each course, which included nearly all local food, including farro (a wheat berry) prepared beautifully with foraged local mushrooms.
The restaurant's chef spoke briefly at the onset, then Pollan said a few words about good food and why he's trying to help lead a kind of movement to eat well, locally, and less intensively as a kind of new approach to health that's rooted in the best parts of food and eating before the 1900s and commercial-scale agriculture. He noted, ironically, that being on the road for 5 or 6 weeks to promote the book so far means that he's eaten horribly at every meal. At Lark, he had one of the few traveling meals that met the standards of his book!
Pollan stopped by each of the 20 or so tables for a few minutes to chat and sign books, and he's a cussedly nice man, even after spending hundreds of hours talking about his stuff, and signing thousands of books. (He signed 850 at Powell's just for them to sell to all comers; smart man.) I told him how my dad and I had switched from various forms of vegetarianism (I was really a fish-a-tarian at that point) after reading Omnivore's Dilemma; he said he'd heard a lot of that, but also the reverse. Some omnivores, reading the first half of the book about conventional food, which is terribly frightening, became vegetarians!
The Cooks & Books events--which sell out quick, so you can sign up at Kim's site to be notified when they are announced--pair a signed copy of the book by the author or chef, a terrific prix fixe meal typically with wine, and convivial communal seating. We were at a table of about 10, and found a close, late friend in common among my wife, me, and the fellow sitting next to me; talked about the history of agriculture; compared notes about favorite joints in the U District; and talked about nursing, the profession not the mothering kind, as one of our number was a nurse who just started at the big trauma/low-income hospital in Seattle.
Oh, and this also marked the first time Lynn and I went out for dinner since Rex was born. We've been out together before, and we've been out individually, and we regularly go out on our own on the weekends. But each time we'd tried to do a dinner out, one kid got sick, or two days before Rex starting waking up every hour after going down to sleep, etc. Our marvelous post-partum doula, who knows Ben and Rex very well, pinch-hit for us last night, and the kids didn't wake up. (She checked in on Ben, who she thought was about to fall out of bed, and he gave her a funny look and then went right to sleep. We had told him she would be there while we were out, but he was in bed before she arrived.)
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