It's a-live!

Yes, we live. I've been working sixty-fourth-heartedly on a honeymoon trip summary, but I've only gotten through the first day. After being sick last weekend--sick in a way I haven't been since age twelve--I decided to cut the news and political commentary for a while. I realized I was too exercised about other stuff to add that on top of it. I've dipped my toe back into the news a bit, just because I don't like being completely out of the loop, but that's about it. I've got a book I'd rather be reading anyway, The Boat of a Million Years, by Poul Anderson, "his classic novel on immortality and the human prospect." It has all the makings of a favorite, but one of the very ingredients that makes it appealing, its patience, in laying the foundation--immortality, after all, should take some time--also makes it hard to know if it will even sustain, much less ultimately live up to its potential.

A funny anecdote about the kids, before I forget again: Yesterday I came into the living room while the kids sat on the couch watching Looney Tunes, my hair mussed severely after a drenching in the sink. It's too long again, which greatly amplified its dramatic appearance. Not Einstein, but a worthy effort. I asked the kids if they liked my hair. Alexander looked and smiled and said, "It's ug-ly!" Angelina, though, in her thoughtful way, smiled at its comic appearance, then grinned--a small grin, more to herself for remembering--and said, "It's a train wreck."

That's m'girl. Funny what makes one most proud. My influence grows stronger.

Besides my being sick, Carole's pregnant. We found out officially about a month ago, I believe. As before, she felt it was so before she took the test. We visited the birth center for the first time last Monday. It's a nice place, homey and inviting, which one might expect from a converted two-story Victorian, painted brightly yellow, with a huge wrap-around white porch. The fact that it's two blocks and two minutes away (if that) makes it all the more inviting.

A tight tank-top type top

We'll know.

It's a curse

Seeing faces, that is. In everything. Well, in things that look like faces. Like happy food containers:



Or anxious outlets:



Or shrieking mailboxes:


They're everywhere. Better faces than voices, I guess.

June 12, 2006 - First Night

I’m sitting here in the breakfast nook, eyes a little bleary, listening to tiny wind chimes as Carole decides what to do with the little birdhouse chimes that for years have been hanging from the kitchen ceiling fan that is now ours.

I bought a house today. I won’t own it for many years likely, but it’s mine. No longer is it merely something I’d like to do some time—know I will, but in the future. No. This is my house. It’s my yard, my garage, my deck—my house.

Now she’s trying to force the electrical cord on the food processor into the base. She did it. Now it sits neatly next to the crockpot. She neatening up the kitchen. Our new Cuisinart 4-slice toaster that replaced our wedding-gift toaster is next.

We closed this morning at 11:00. Danny met us there and we had a good time. No, really. Several humorous stories concerning parrots were told, mostly by me. Tammi, the Republic Title lady, related how at one of her closings a man showed up with a parrot on his shoulder, and not for comedic effect. It was deadly serious. How could I not tell what stories I knew? We were done in an hour, though we did have to run to Texans to get a check to cover a balance on the final closing costs. On the way back to Republic Title we stopped at a house on Old York for a *third* time to get a picture. (The second time was to replace a blurred virtual tour. This time was to get a still picture I hadn’t realized I’d missed.)

Chrisana is a saint. She of Chrisana and Vance, and son Travis, the previous owners of our house. We truly could not have been more fortunate in a couple from whom to buy a house. He patched holes and painted and ran an additional electrical line into the living room for us just as a freebie. And we keep discovering things that Chrisana left for us: sugar and creamer in the cupboard, plastic containers with lids in a cabinet, plastic cups, a cookie press for Christmas cookies, and even a hand-drawn map of the neighborhood with all the neighbors’ names and phone numbers marked on their respective houses. They’re just golden people. It really is a shame they couldn’t move just next door. We wanted their house, but we’d really like them for neighbors. They’ve clearly set a standard; all the neighbors are sick they’re leaving.

After closing we went back to the apartment, meeting Dad there. He’d brought the truck to help us move our mattress and box spring plus the kids’ bed stuff. As it happened, he ended up taking Carole’s Kia home and we kept the truck full of stuff. We picked up the kids and came here to meet Vance and Chrisana to get the keys from them. Vance helped us unload and they were on their way. After they left I shot a video with my Olympus camera giving a tour of the house.

The kids were silly excited. They took their own pillows in to the bedrooms as we unloaded their mattresses, then just spazzed around the place. They started playing a “game” of banging on the nice upright piano that Vance and Chrisana left, and then running into one of the bedrooms to be goofy. Eventually they made their way back to the shed to play with all the “new” toys that Travis, Vance and Chrisana’s twelve-year-old son, had left for them. He’s a really good kid. We think as the youngest child he enjoys being looked up to by someone younger. We took the kids back to the apartment to feed them while I broke down their bedroom cubbies to bring here. Carole in the meantime was getting a—well, she was packing. The overnight essentials (mostly). When we came back here the kids were still vibrating with excitement, doing silly dances around the living area—“Clint, look how I can dance sideways”—and watching us ready their bedroom. They both seem very happy here, especially, it seems, Angelina. When she was dancing near me in the living room I knelt down and “Pssst”-ed her to come over. She was curious and did, but as she approached I extended my arms in a hug and she smiled a bit and put her arm around me and sat on my leg. I asked her if she was very happy in our new house and she said, “Yes. Are we going to live here when I’m 19?” I said we very well might be, that this was going to be her home for a long time. She seemed very contented with that. They liked having all their stuff in a new room. They won’t be sleeping in our room anymore, which does tweak a little bit. It was very cramped in that one bedroom, and I will love the privacy of having our own room like we ought, but it was nice being able to see them asleep when we came in to go to bed.

It shouldn’t be surprising that we’re already seeing things that we need: a nightstand for the bed, end tables for the couch, Tiki torches or the like for the deck, cubby holes in the laundry room on the way to the garage where the kids can put school stuff and coats. And while the Granny wallpaper in the living room does fit us in a way—because, as I told Carole earlier, we are kinda Granny-type people—it will be changed to something less Granny. It is nice to finally have enough space to hang all of our pictures. It is nice to finally have enough space for the kids to be able to play like kids. It is nice to have a big kitchen. It is nice to have enough space to breathe. It is nice to have our own house.

This is our house. This will be our first home. This will be the Christmases they’ll remember most as kids. This will be where they discover their own way, and bring friends home to play, kids running straight through as a blur from front door to back on the way to the backyard. This will be where we enjoy evenings with our friends, lounging on the deck in the cool night shade with torches and chimenia burning. It might very well be where they learn to play their first instruments, and, who knows, maybe where they even get ready for prom, and high school graduation. I mean, my god: Is this the home they’ll leave when they finally leave home?

It’s so hard to imagine it, and yet I know it will happen, and there is good reason to believe it could happen here. This is a good house. It will be a great home. Who knows what the future holds, but for the moment, and for many years to come, this house will hold ours, and for that we will call it home.

I grew up knowing what a home was, but never wondering much about having one of my own. It was always some far-off future place, even when I considered it as an adult. That was something to do once the prologue ended, and it never did. I was becoming used to that fact.

And then it did, rather abruptly but still quietly. The first chapter of my life, of the life I’ve been waiting so long to start, has to my continuing surprise begun. Welcome to my life, I keep telling myself. Welcome to our home.

Carole’s using the vase that Chrisana left to fill the Brita dispenser in the refrigerator. She’s finally organized all she can for the moment. She’s telling me where pen and pencil are, in the long drawer to the right of the sink. That sounds fine. And now she stands across the table from me, staring at the dark living room, wondering what else she can do. There’s nothing but getting ready for bed. A kiss, and off she goes, and so do I.

Welcome to our home.

Heading for home

It's getting closer. The appraiser was supposed to hand in her report today, so hopefully we'll hear something tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll also be following up on home insurance and . . . something else ACT! will remind me of in the morning.

As for today, we took the kids to school, Carole went down to Harry Hines hunting for fabric to match the top she already made for Anita's mother-of-the-bride dress, and I drove to Paris for a couple of jobs. (After a job in Carrollton.) Carole found the fabric, fortunately, and Anita smiled on it. Good good. The kids elected to sleep here, though Alexander made noises about wanting to go to Daddy's. I finished Photowalk stuff, fixed spaghetti and meatballs, we finished watching the surprisingly thoughtful (no, really) Bubba Ho-Tep, labeled and FTP'd the Photowalk stuff, then respectively messed around on the Net. I wish I didn't have to wait till midnight to start catching up on the news and commentary of the day, but as yet I haven't discovered much of a way around it.

On that score, however (advance pun intended), I see Natalie Maines opened her mouth again outside of a song. Always a danger. And I see she's as much of a punk as she ever was. She says now she retracts the apology she gave for her disrepectful remark about the president back in '03. Now she says he deserves no respect whatsoever. Well knock me down with a feather. Natalie never got and still doesn't that free speech cuts both ways; if you dis your audience, either directly or indirectly as she did here, don't be surprised when they react negatively to it. She's always played herself up as some brave martyr when in fact she's just a rude, dense punk.

What I've long hoped, however, is that she caught some flak from Martie and Emily, assuming that they surely didn't share Natalie's loopy liberalism. Not so, I see. In fact, Martie, my favorite (et tu, Martie?), rivals her in idiocy with this: "'I'd rather have a small following of really cool people who get it, who will grow with us as we grow and are fans for life, than people that have us in their five-disc changer with Reba McEntire and Toby Keith,' Maguire said. 'We don't want those kinds of fans. They limit what you can do.'" I'm sure she felt exactly that way when they were setting sales records, selling out arenas all over, and racking up Grammy's left and right. I'm sure she was thinking then, "Y'know, what'd really be cool is if most of these people went away and didn't buy our music." Well, Martie, you don't have to worry about it now. The three of you misread your public and now you're having to make up transparently fake rationalizations for it. What a fall, and what a shame. At least you make good music. Or used to. I haven't heard the new album yet . . . .

On a less serious note, it's a little harder to take stories about the near-impossibility of escaping from the infamous Alcatraz when you see a headline like "Boy Swims from Alcatraz to San Francisco." I mean, it makes it a lot harder to take Clint Eastwood seriously, squintingly trying to Escape from Alcatraz, when apparently it's kid's stuff.

Much too late to be awake. But I blogged, goshdarnit!

It's all about me . . . and you . . . and him . . . and her

We as a society need to just get this through our collective skulls. 'Course way too many of us are much too thick-headed to get it or care.

Saturday, May 13

Kids were up early, but not as early as sometimes. Carole'd brought the video games over here yesterday from Dave's since the kids were excited about the games they'd bought from Travis (the young'n from our prospective new house), so they were up and ready to hit them first thing. Carole ended up sitting with them instead of coming back to bed. I was eye-rubbing tired when I finally dragged myself out of bed (good thing I'm getting to bed early tonight), but brought out Gene and Skip anyway. Spent the next hour-plus entertaining the kids and being climbed on. I submit Exhibit A:


After that Carole and I whiled the afternoon away on photo editing and political commentary (I'll let the dear reader decide who did what). I did manage to get to the credit union to get cashier checks for the title company. We have to get those to Danny tomorrow so he can take them to Republic on Monday morning. I did get some research done on the honeymoon. Mid-July, it will be. I think we've boiled it down to two possibilities. Waiting on responses from both of them to determine which. Then we went to Texadelphia for dinner, staying till close doing a Boggle puzzle and crossword puzzle in The Diddly News. Followed that up with a Wal-Mart run to stock up on Diet Dr. Thunder and to get some Mother Day flowers and a card. Back here it was back to the computers doing various things that certainly don't need to be done right now -- though it is good to have the Vonage decisions made -- but there we are.

And here I go.

Friday, May 12

Another hectic one, though thankfully not quite like yesterday. Not nearly as much back and forth and overlap between work and house stuff. Alexander woke up early again today, though thankfully not quite like the other day. He was being dramatically loud with his yawns and talking loud, hoping to wake Angelina, so I had to shush him a couple of times. He quieted down and there wasn't mutual stirring for a while, and then it was all but up.

We were late getting them to school, but I made use of the time and got the car loaded for work. After an apt. office stop to fax the contract to Danny and a Walgreen's stop to swap the Diet Coke with Splenda with Diet Coke withOUT Splenda, we headed for our ostensible first stop, east of Lake Lavon in Nevada. Only problem was she didn't live in Nevada; she lives in Powell. Wrong city, right zip code. Oops. Reschedule. So then we did the two jobs that were left and came home. Scheduled the house inspection and then I got to work scheduling Monday. Thought I had it all done when Carole mentioned a different sheet, which meant I had to start essentially all over. It took a long while and several phone calls, but I finally got it all done.

In the meantime Carole had gone to pick up the kids from school and stop at Dave's to get the video games. (We weren't supposed to have them tonight, but the babysitter called to say she had a church function she hadn't remembered, so we switched nights with her.) The kids dug having the video games here for once (twice, actually); Alexander said he wanted to sleep here all the time now. I wonder what was the difference? Everything was fine until
bedtime. Alexander and I had a good ol' time playing on our big bed until Angelina was ready, at which point it was her turn and I told him it was time to get in bed. He kept ignoring me, even as I got more serious with him and told him I was getting upset. Angelina by then was ready and in bed herself and then he wanted to look at his photo album. I told him no, it was time for bed, way past time, and we'd had lots of fun, but it was time for bed. He started crying and I told him if he didn't stop crying and start getting into bed before I counted to five, he'd lose a song. He didn't, so he lost a song. I told him again, he didn't again, so he lost another song. I told him again, he didn't again, so he lost his last song. Of course he was upset by all this, but he's got a stubborn streak going on lately that we can't abide, particularly where minding me is concerned. I told him it was very sad that he lost all of his songs and gave him one back, but he only got the one. Of course I tickled him and gave him lots of kisses and he was giggling and laughing and ready for more when I gave the Big Kiss. (Angelina said she was too tired for the Big Kiss, which was a first, but I saw her still catch it and the small kisses from inside her sleeping bag, which was funny and cute.) Such is the life of a parent, and to some degree specifically a step-parent.

And now I'm going to get back to the Billy photo project, which entails me scanning a multiplicity of photos of Billy to send him and Shana. This was prompted by the wedding collage; I thought Shana in particular might like to have some old photos of Billy, and realized Billy would probably like to have them himself. So I'm scanning in several to send them tonight.

Back to it.

Thursday, May 11

I've now learned the necessity of including the day and date in the title, since if I happen to be publishing after midnight it looks like two posts in one day. Of course chronologically it is, but that's not the point.

Today was a blurry flurry of phone calls. Picked the kids up at Dave's and took them to school as per the usual, but that was where the usual ended. Talked with Danny at least six or seven times today, the first time when he called with a market analysis for the neighborhood. It showed the house appraising for considerably less than what Vance and Chrisana were asking, which prompted a later call from him saying that he'd called in a favor with the appraiser and been told it almost surely wouldn't appraise for much more than $100,000. In and around all that Carole was talking with Vance about it all. At least twice we were talking with Vance and Danny at the same time. In the middle of all that we did the Photowalk stuff we'd normally have done the night before, and then called Margie about doing our own scheduling. Thus began an afternoon of working on work schedules, phone-tagging Margie while still fielding calls to and from Vance and Danny. Picked up the kids from school and brought them back with visions of Milo and Otis, but we didn't even get to that before leaving again to go back to Vance and Chrisana's again to attempt to fill out the sales contract for the house. That was a rather comical blind-leading-the-blind affair, but we think it worked out all right. Everyone's out to do the fair thing, fortunately, so it was a good experience. We joked that we wanted to buy their house, but we'd rather them move next door so we could be neighbors. The kids had fun playing with their son Travis, and we slid him a twenty for the video games. Vance said he was embarrassed his son was taking money from us, but it was Carole's suggestion. She didn't think he should be giving away his video games. I wouldn't have argued if he did . . . . Then to Sonic to feed the kids and back here to attempt to get them in bed ASAP, since it was already past 8:00. I think they were down for good by 8:45. Yeesh. And then to the roast that Carole had put in this morning and continued commentary on Field of Dreams. ("I just thought it would be funny to watch Kevin Costner try to kidnap James Earl Jones" -- director Phil Alden Robinson, roughly.)

Now let's spin the random thoughts wheel:

a) Thanks to yet another trip to Walgreen's for diet drinks for Carole, I'm amazed all over again how many variations on just diet drinks there are. Diet Dr. Pepper is fine, but then there's Diet Coke with Lemon, caffeine-free Diet Coke, Diet Coke with Splenda (bad choice on my part), and some other taste variation on it. Is the market for Diet Coke really that splintered, and if so, yikes?

b) Life would be a lot easier with a lot of money. Certainly buying a house would be easier. "I want your house, and everything in it." "Okay. I want $XXX for it." "Done. Here's $XXX for a tip."

c) I really, really need some new jeans.

d) Is that a spider bite?

e) It seems almost impossible for me to get to bed before midnight.

In that vein, Carole has resumed her almost nightly pre-bed nap on the couch. How I envy her borderline narcoleptic tendencies. Since I've mostly caught up on the news and commentary I'd like -- I'm being driven almost daily toward some political rants about Republicans and Democrats both -- I can now retire to bed and my new, comfy Bed Bath & Beyond $99 pillow. (Texans Credit Union called this morning to make sure the $300+ purchase there the other day was in fact ours. "Yes," I told her, "that was our wedding gifts spree.")

Today the kids woke up at 6:00 a.m. complaining that their stomachs hurt because they were hungry. (Gee, they ate almost nothing before going to bed. What could have been the cause?) I'd woken up at 3-something, and then again when they woke me up. Couldn't go back to sleep; just dozed. We took them to school, got back from there to eat and then go to work. Just four jobs, one of which turned out to be just a couple of retakes, but between starting later than intended and running into the second traffic jam in three days on the same part of 35 north down in Oak Cliff, we got back later than intended. We picked the kids up from school (I dozed in the car while Carole went to get them) and took them to the 406 Anna house (Chris Black nee Daugherty) to see how they liked it. Fortunately they did. (This one didn't smell. Big deal to the four- and five-year-old set. And the thirty-seven-year-old set for that matter.) Got home, Carole dozed on the floor with an upset stomach, I entertained the kids as much as I could. Curt returned my call from earlier about home-buying stuff, and informed me there could be a truckload of Autocad work ahead, so we'll see about that. Then we talked to Rebekah's Danny more about the mortgage loan stuff, and then met him for dinner at Tia's to sign all the requisite paper work for his stuff. Chris' husband Vance called us back while we were there to talk price and offers and sounded very reasonable in the process. He said they'd just guessed at the $115,000 number they were offering, so they're willing to honor whatever the appraisal says. Very cool. Danny says he'll get comps tomorrow and we'll have some sort of answer for Chris and Vance by noon tomorrow.

I'm falling asleep at the keyboard.

Short one 'cause again I'm late for a bed. No work for today, so I got mortgage stuff together that I ended up not needing, got nothing much significant done beyond that before time to pick up the kids, we drove by some houses, picked up the kids, went back to the apartment, they were kinda grumpy, we went back to a house and toured it, it was okay -- Carole liked it more than I did, as apparently did the kids -- we drove by a second one, the kids were melting down, and then came home. We put the kids to bed, ordered the $5.55 carry-out special from Papa John's, watched Field of Dreams, we cried, watched the making-of video, we cried some more, I've just read some of Jason's e-mails and chuckled, and now I'm writing this.

Done in five minutes. Rock on.

This is the start (and hopefully not also the end) of a new approach to this blog thing: Actually writing something every day. This I hope to accomplish by actually treating it like the diary which I intended it to be from the outset. It's very hard for me not to think of each entry as a combo-journal/blog (that is, created for external interest). When I do that I blanche at the number of words I'll surely expend, and instead do something else. (Which unfortunately almost never, at least immediately, includes going to bed.) So the goal now for each day is to write just a paragraph. Well, at least a paragraph. I'm still open to writing more, but the pressure's off if I know all I'm definitely wanting to do is have a record of the day. So to that end:

This morning we woke up early but snuggled late. Got to Dave's later than usual, but at least the oatmeal got eaten before leaving to take the kids to school. Took the kids to school -- Alexander was full of energy at that point -- then came back to the apartment to get ready to leave for work. Had a couple of e-mails from Danny about mortgages, and in response to one looking for independent contractor history, I e-mailed Jason McSween at BCS, then called Barry there. (To see if they could show a two-year history for me there still.) He was thrilled about me and Carole, and said possibly. Cool. Did the three Photowalk jobs we had today, but I was exhausted enough even before we left that I laid down after we got back and napped/dozed for over an hour. I took a shower before Carole got back with the kids, and then . . . did stuff. Alexander fell asleep on the couch (he's apparently been fighting whatever Carole had), and I played hide-and-seek with Angelina, which progressed to building with Legos. I made an American flag and she covered an entire large, flat piece with only two-piece blocks. Then we started building a little house. It was cute watching her play with the "kids" in the house. She decided she wanted to stay with us when Dave got here, so she did. Ended up getting her to bed much later than planned, for no good reason that I can think of. She kept wanting to eat more, and she was being very good while watching Beauty and the Beast, so we just kept letting it go. Finally we got to a stopping point, she got ready for bed, and I went to Dave's to get her stuffed animals that we realized we didn't have. I tucked her in again, she told me in her joking way she wanted me to stay in the bedroom (Carole told me after I returned from Dave's that she didn't want me to leave in the first place, but still wanted her animals; define "dilemma"), and I let Skip and Gene (my hands as puppets who've become quite the hit) tell her good-night. It was nice. Carole fixed hamburger mish-mash, we finished watching Swing Time, finished our Photowalk work, I read some news and commentary, and then did this.

And now I'm going to bed. If I can just start this a little earlier every night, this is eminently doable. Now if I will just do it.

Afterthoughts

So, three days since and in, my first observations and impressions:

1) Those who say they don't need a piece of paper to feel married -- one of whom long ago included me -- don't understand a crucial thing: It's the process that makes the difference, not the paper. Going through it changes you, or at least it has me. I feel different about me and Carole as a couple. We were together before, but we weren't truly a couple. There really is something about proclaiming those vows before witnesses that squeezes out that little, final gap that remains between the engaged and makes them a unit by themselves. So no, you don't need a piece of paper. But you do need a wedding. Anyone who says differently hasn't gone through it to know.

2) After not having worn jewelry my entire life, I've gotten used to wearing a ring surprisingly quickly.

3) There are few things in life more emotionally satisfying than seeing old friends, or as especially in my case, old friends of mine who've never met each other, laughing and talking together.

4) There are few things more bittersweet than having to watch #3 from the sidelines. There just wasn't time to visit with everybody the way I wanted. But that's what future get-togethers are for.

5) I wish everyone had been able to hear the music that didn't have time to get played.

6) I suppose it's telling that I never got nervous about getting married itself. I got a little anxious about how the ceremony itself would go down, as the clouds darkened to the south and west, but it never occurred to me to get nervous about saying those words to Carole.

Still to come: A blow-by-blow account from both me and Carole about everything from the lead-up to the afterparty.

(Photos by Chase Lindley. Marc Eells' coming soon.)

Get married? No sweat!

The irony of the past few months, it struck me tonight, is that it's not the wedding preparations that have made our lives so busy and overwhelming—it's everything else. It's rather odd to find oneself wishing, "If only we could just be planning the wedding. Ahhhhh." But it's true. It's everything else that's been complicated. The wedding plans themselves have been a piece of cake. (Pun not intended when it came from Carole, but very much so from me.)

Random thoughts

From what's turned out to be an eventful day.

- I still hate AOL. I signed up for AIM and now it wants to install new software every time I turn around. GoogleTalk really needs to add a chat room feature.

- I was looking at Carole tonight as she stared at the laptop screen and thought to myself, "So that's what my wife looks like." Some times it hits more than others.

- Carole's ability to surprise me with weird spaces in her cultural knowledge remains undiminished. Paul Simon was playing and she said it was that Neil Simon guy. That was laugh-worthy enough, but when I told her she was a first name off, she said, "Paul Simon? Oh, right, he's the 'Call Me Al' guy." I said, "Well, yeah. And that 'Bridge Over Troubled Water' guy." Her response: "That was him?" "Yeah. You know, Simon and Garfunkel?" "Paul Simon was that Simon?" That's when I got up from the computer to go hug her and thank her for the humor she brings to my life.

- An oldie but a goodie, though I haven't blogged about it: I'm glad I live now. While I agree with John Derbyshire that American civilization (though not necessarily music) may have peaked in the '50s, I'm glad I live today. Carole's dad went to the hospital tonight for a heart attack and was stented within the hour. (It was serious, but he should be fine. Six pills a day for the rest of his life and he has to stop smoking, but alive and joking. He's a likely no-show for the wedding, unfortunately, but we'll see.)

- I remembered that there was a dream I had before I proposed to Carole that was one of the hints I had that I should propose to her. Unfortunately at this point I don't remember what the dream was, but it did remind me of another hint: Seeing Serenity with her and realizing I really liked watching it with her. I held her hand and rested my head on hers. It was just a feeling I had. This is the way it should be. Indeed.

- Another one: We were sitting on the couch discussing the house I've had in mind to build for lo these many years. As I was telling her about it I realized I was taking it for granted that she'd be there. That was really a hint.

- I've told Carole I need a ten-second delay before she speaks my own thoughts. I really ought to be able to get credit at least for those.

There were more that I don't now remember, so that's all for now.

The minister and me

Well, not quite. He just finished seminary and is currently looking for his first church. Thus the putting up for sale of their home and my being dispatched thereto to take pictures. His office bookshelf being filled with books of commentary on the Bible and Christianity, and histories of the Bible and Christianity, and the meaning of evil, etc., I remarked to him and his wife that one of them must be a minister. They laughed and confirmed the above. This prompted me to ask him if he knew of a good book relating the history of the Bible itself, which in turn prompted two hours of discussion primarily centered on religion, but with related tangents into politics and anthropology. It was the most interesting and fun conversation I've had in a long time.

The job's going pretty well. Still can't seem to settle into a groove, what with tripods breaking and cameras breaking and rather random schedules, but I do feel a lot more comfortable with the photography itself now and am beginning to feel the comfortable feeling of old hat. I need that. Once we can get the other issues worked through, and more than anything find a way to streamline the post-photography work -- choosing and tweaking the photos and getting them e-mailed -- I'll be much happier. The main reason I haven't written here in so long is due almost solely to that post work. I'm either doing that when I could be writing here, or too sleepy to write after having done all that. (About the way I feel now, in fact.) If I can get all that finally smoothed out, it will be one of the best jobs I've had. If I can get all that finally worked out, I could even start writing spec material again, and learning the CGI that I've been meaning to pursue. Yes, I need to get all that figured out.

A word in edgewise

Carole's apparently catching up on yesterday, so I'll just slip in quickly to say today was marked by sleeping in (kids were at Dave's), eggs and sausage for breakfast, grocery shopping at Wal-Mart, fabric shopping at Hancock's (my vest, bridesmaid dresses, flower girl dress for Angelina), creating storyboards for the stupid bird/worm animation project our teenage classmates voted on, taking the kids to McDonald's, finishing Being There, working on the wedding ceremony, and typing this.

Oh, and passing along cool videos like this. Remember: You saw it here first.

Hayes out.

Saturday

The kids woke up insanely early -- just before 5:00 a.m. -- needing to go to the restroom and wanting to stay up. No way, Carole told them. We don't get up that early. They cried and pouted, and half an hour later Alexander said he needed to go to the bathroom again. Angelina seconded him, and Carole said fine, but one at a time. (They like to accompany each other in there.) This occasioned more tears, but eventually they did fall back asleep, and so did we. They finally got up for good around 7:20. Carole started a movie and gave them the usual breakfast fare to accompany their Chitty Chitty Bang Bang watching, then returned to bed. We snuggled/slept for another hour or so, then got up to watch with them before remembering it was an office breakfast day. Coated the kids and headed for the office. It was nice. They were well-behaved, and this time laughed at the persistent man who always tries to get them to laugh.

The afternoon was spent mostly working on the wedding ceremony and, for me, talking to Dad on the phone, first about the situation between Curt and Deb and later about . . . something else. Oh, getting his scanner to work. The ceremony's coming along. The rabbi's first effort is a decent road map; we're basically rewriting it and adding to it.

And then tonight we headed to the house on the spur of the moment to have dinner with Mom and Dad, per their invite. Nice meal, nice pie, and some Firefly. Dad actually said he thinks it's the best television show he's ever seen, and he's only seen three episodes and the two-hour pilot. High praise indeed. Carole got the fabric she needed from Mom to create a mock-up of the wedding dress she's agreed to make, and we took the little box of toys Mom had requested we bring back.

And now we're back and both falling asleep. Well, Carole actually is asleep next to me on the couch with her hand on my leg; I'm merely doing the head bob thing and printing rows of accidental d's.

Time for more water, some Vitamin C, and some apparently desperately needed sleep.

Tag, she's it

I thought somehow we'd dodged the bullet, that I'd managed to catch and shake a germ without it hitting Carole, but here on my second full day feeling basically back to normal (still a slightly sore throat), Carole's fatigued and suffering a slightly sore throat. We drove this morning together, following my first day driving for Skyhook Wireless (the wi-fi mapping) yesterday alone. It went pretty well, and she felt the same during most of it, but on the back stretch started feeling dizzy in the turns and warmed over. So I cut things off a bit early and got her back for a nap before getting the kids. Overall I think the driving will be fine, but it's even more work than I was expecting. If they have people getting done in three weeks with areas on par with the Plano one they've given me, there's some black magic at work.

The kids were pretty good today, but still acting grumpier than usual. They're acting like they're just not getting enough sleep, but we can only control our end on that. They usually sleep at least ten hours over here. Angelina's been giving us varying degrees of trouble with trying new food, usually overly dramatic crying fits, and neither of them is eating enough dinner lately, so we told them tonight that there won't be anymore big snacks after school, and no junk food at all until something nutritious has been eaten. We're done arguing with four- and five-year-olds about eating properly.

I had a 2.5 hour long conversation with Deb Wednesday night, finally calling her back for her missed birthday call to me. It was way past due. We haven't talked in months. Not surprisingly, I guess, the conversation turned to the situation between her and Andrew and Curt and Ginny. It was good to talk to her about it. The next day I called Curt for his birthday, and had a surprisingly long talk with him about the same. He was encouraged to hear how Deb is feeling about it. A reconciliation will occur because it has to occur, but it's going to take time.

This is already longer than I intended, but I kept remembering things from the week. I was surprised to see it had been since Monday that we'd entered anything here. I hadn't bothered thanks to sickness, but I hadn't realized Carole hadn't posted anything either. It took Shana writing today to say, "You guys aren't writing in your journal alREADY!!!" to make me realize how much of a ghost town it'd been all week. Even though it's only secondarily intended for an audience, it is nice to know it's proving informative for folks who're curious. Curt told me he was up to speed on our activities from it, too. Cool beans, as he would say, or at least used to say.

I sent Carole to bed when she woke up from the couch fifteen or twenty minutes ago, telling her I'd be in a few minutes. I think I've already busted that measure.

Another one down

Played with the kids this morning till Dave picked them up around noon. Carole finally cut Alexander's hair after repeated requests, to his increasing displeasure. He said he wanted a haircut like mine, but we all seem to agree that it looked better the other way. Oh well. Lesson learned, and it will long again in a month or less. Both kids woke up early and seemed to show it, as Carole mentioned earlier.

On the whole it was a decent day; it just didn't go the way I was hoping. Between Carole working on the shower curtains she didn't want to do and me working on other random stuff—updating the Gmail address books, installing Freehand, and creating some basic storyboarding sheets for our animation class—plus lunch and watching some Seabiscuit extras, the afternoon got completely away and we didn't end up leaving to run our errands until 5:00.

Stopped at Movie Trading Company to trade in one movie, and ended up leaving with eleven. This time their $3.99 bins were loaded up with some of my favorite films of all time. Unbearable Lightness of Being, You Can Count on Me, To Kill a Mockingbird, Donnie Brasco, as well as great ones that I do want to own like Being John Malkovich and The Hudsucker Proxy. So against my better judgement, I got most of them. (Enough to take advantage of the bulk rate.) $36 I hate to put on the Discover right now, but at $3.99 it makes sense to get them now and not later for four times as much each. Then we headed for Black-Eyed Pea, also against our better judgement, since we knew it would take an hour to get back home and cook anyway. We split a dinner and salad for $7, so it wasn't too bad. Next stop Bed Bath and Beyond to keep registering, then Barnes and Noble next door for an hour or so, even though it kept us out later, just to renew the spirit some before heading home.

Got Brea's pics from Shana's wedding in the mail (neither of the checks we're waiting for, still; grrrr), so we looked at those online after I sent our wedding rabbi the quotes we'd like him to use or paraphrase in the ceremony. Some good pics in the batch, if a little low in picture quality.




And now here I am. I actually meant this to be a "the day happened" precis, but whaddyaknow, I typed more than I intended.

Which just proves I'm right to be with my intended, who I believe is on the other side of the room offering her own take on all the above.

Night, Carole.

I forgot

I should have been in bed hours ago.

Getting to know you

What's a blog without family pictures? Okay, a lot of them, but that's not how this one's going to be. This is for us, and for others who happen to care. (Or who don't, I suppose, and are just bored.)

This is one of the best pictures of all of us taken so far. Wouldn't you know it would be by someone in the apartment office during one of our "picnics" at the Saturday morning breakfast the apartments host once or twice a month. I think the cast of characters is obvious, so long as you're familiar with the names Clint, Carole, Angelina, and Alexander.


While always cute, we all know that that's not their best, so c'mon, let's just get the obligatory cute kid photos out of the way now:

More to come, but that's all for now. See, we have self-control.

A good day

It started auspiciously and kept that track the rest of the day. The kids were in a good mood from the start, joining each other in the bathroom for their daily "the train is leaving" ritual before assuming the position on the couch (Alexander on the right, Angelina on the left) to color. Carole and I snuggled in bed for another twenty minutes, then joined Alexander and Angelina, the theory being that the more time they get with us—both of us—in the morning, the better mood they'll be in at school and consequently all day. It seemed to pay off, as they were in a famously good state of mind all afternoon.

But first there was the interview. Earlier this week, after weeks of not getting any call backs at all on résumés I'd sent out, I got two in one day. On Monday I'd ditched the StreetDelivery.com job that had seemed so promising at first but had revealed itself to be a much more complicated and tedious affair than I'd expected. I was rather dejected about that, considering it was a salaried position at $2200/mo. I just knew if I was bored by it before I started, I'd never last, and I didn't want to waste their time or mine. So Tuesday I sent out a couple more résumés, responding to ads on the ever-fruitful Dallas Craigslist. The first was to Skyhook Wireless, the same company I'd hit up in January for their Plano/Dallas grid. This was a driving job, mapping wi-fi areas by driving every street in the assigned geographic area, and this round they were looking for Fort Worth. I knew the gas expense would be formidable, but thought the profit might be enough more to still make it worth it. I was wrong. Some number-crunching was making it not worth my while.

But there was that other call, the one from the real estate couple. It was an ad for an office assistant, and not much more than that. Turned out to be a couple—a young, Jewish couple—with a fledgling real estate business. What they needed was someone to organize their lives, run their errands—a Guy Friday. I'm not so hot on helping out fledgling businesses anymore, but I know the environment, and it's a lot more freedom, so when the wife called me yesterday, I thought even at only $1500/mo. to start, it was worth checking out. It would be a steady paycheck. (Hopefully.) So even if the wi-fi mapping was falling through, at least I had the possibility of the office assistant position.

Then the mapping folks called back. Twice. First they called to say, "Turns out we still have Dallas. Want that?" I said yes. Then they called to say, "Guess what? We still have Plano, too. Want that instead?" So suddenly I'm back on with them, planning to start Monday on what they were saying is a three-week-ish job. What do I with the office assistant folks?

What any self-respecting job interviewer would do: Offer up my significant other. Actually it was Carole's idea, and they seemed to go for it. Carole went with me to the interview and we sold ourselves as a team. While I’m driving for three weeks, she’ll handle what they’ll need. She can work in the mornings to get a head start on things, and then I can take over most of it, though we’d still be working on it together. Carole's enthusiasm slowly worked its magic, at least on the wife. The husband was a harder read, but lauged a number of times; I just chalked it up to his not speaking English as well as his wife. He seemed merely to be deliberating things as we talked. But we tried to sell them on the idea that they're getting us as a team, and not just that: They're getting the brain trust of which we're a part—the audio/design, the computer/networking, the labor. We find out Monday if they’re definitely going to go for it, but the wife especially seemed ready to try it out.

So that’s roughly where things stand, job-wise. The kids were great the rest of the afternoon. I wasn’t stressed about job stuff anymore, so I walked away from the computer and became the kids’ play toy for the rest of the afternoon. We tried to get Alexander to let Carole cut his hair—even had Carole finish trimming mine (she did most of it this morning) to coax him—but he wouldn’t go for it. Instead we played with toys and they colored and then baked peanut butter cookies when Carole got a wild hair. At the end they took a bath, I blow-dried their hair, and we put them to bed. It really is a neat feeling, and a swelling sense of reality and responsibility, to have the kids show their real affection for me these days. Alexander especially at this point is very open about how much he loves me, offering up plenty of kisses and hugs throughout the day, and it’s something else. Angelina shows it in her own way, which I’m understanding more as time goes by, but she’s definitely still Mommy’s girl, and that’s all right. That’s what time is for. The secret, I’ve found, isn’t much of a secret at all; it’s only a choice—a choice to lay your ego aside and simply put yourself out there for a child to see. They can sense like bloodhounds if you’re being yourself with them, and it does neither you nor them any good to pretend otherwise. It will be very interesting as these kids, and later mine and Carole’s own kids, get older to hear their memories of their childhood, and how they regarded me. Even with my lack of self-awareness so far as my general appearance is concerned—the main reason why my acne never did bother me as much as it could have—I’ve never thought of myself as having a clown personality. With them I do, and gosh darn it, it’s fun. And what shreds of self-consciousness I did have are now, thanks to them, falling completely away. In McDonald’s, at school, wherever, if they need the old man face, or the “doinking” face—where they pop my face lightly (or not) with their fists and I make all manner of screwed-up faces like they’d hit me hard, accompanied by a “doink”—they get it. It’s all about them. And they know it. Which is why I’ve got too little kids I didn’t even know six months ago telling me that they love me. And I love that.

Tonight Carole and I had our homemade barbecue chicken pizza, which somehow doesn’t taste quite like pizza but still tastes great, and watched Seabiscuit. (We also both had a little bit more than usual of her homemade wine cooler concoction, which is probably why I’m sleepier than usual at this time. Well, that and the four hours of sleep last night.) Seabiscuit really is a great show, and being the horse-lover and, as a kid and teenager, jockey-wannabe, Carole loved it as much as I figured she would. We’ll watch some extras this weekend.

Which has officially started, if one goes by the clock. We rarely do, at least when it comes to sleep, but here I am at the end of this, with Carole already asleep on the sofa, so it would seem a perfect stopping point. Good thing, considering the length. Daily entries would help with that. Something to think about . . . .

Hayes out.

First post of the day! Oh, wait . . . .

Welcome. First post to something else on which I'll always be behind. And the first in what shall be a long line of posts that begin "I should have been in bed hours ago." (Perhaps it could be like the Kramer Entrance Counter on the Seinfeld DVDs.)

I have no great ambitions or aspirations for this venture short of keeping a log of the goings-on of me and Carole as our new life together spins up to speed, mainly for us, but also for the friends and family who want to know, corrupt officials who probably already know, and run-of-the-mill stalkers who will no doubt find out soon enough. We're all about helping. By which I mean, of course, that Carole joins me in this endeavor, and let's not kid ourselves: She'll probably contribute to this more than I do.

At the moment, however, a too-firm Beautyrest calls to me. (Quietly, of course, so as to not wake the kiddies on the floor. Obligatory photos of whom shall be following post haste, otherwise known as "as soon as Carole signs on.")

Night, Carole.