Happy Birthday, B!

I haven’t been able to run with H because of TABBS (Temporary Ancient Body Breakdown Syndrome), but we’ve had some good walks together. My primary walking partner, however, continues to be sweet B, with whom I carry on mostly one-sided chats as we stroll along. She does seem to agree with most of what I have to say and adds frequent chirps of appreciation. She’s not just a yes-baby, though, and I admit she also emits the occasional belch of disdain.

B was two months old today (and tomorrow—September doesn’t have a 31st), and we toasted her in Belgian Fraboise Lambic beer, which A had experienced before and recommended as something festive that H would really like. (Lambic is explained concisely and well here.) I’d avoided the stuff on the principle that flavoring things like beer and coffee creates a result less satisfactory than either the beer, the coffee, or the original donor of the flavor. But I’m a sucker for raspberry, and secretly have always wanted at least a sip of this famous brew. I was knocked out. Not a daily quaff, but mighty fine for a special event. Good thing we have another bottle for tomorrow’s celebration of the same event!

Messing with Ike

This sort of thing really rattles my cage. In last night’s debate, McCain stated that Dwight Eisenhower had prepared a message to be issued in case of the failure of the Normandy invasion, accepting personal responsibility. A well-known fact. But McCain, trying to make a point, claimed that it was a message of resignation. It wasn’t, and anyone with even a passing knowledge of WWII or the invasion or Eisenhower or the chain of command—all of which we might expect from McCain—knows it wasn’t. Not to mention the concepts of fact-checking and research.

Using the magic Googler machine, it took me just over two minutes on line to confirm my memory and find this:

Here’s Eisenhower’s manuscript.

Here’s the text:
“Our landings in the Cherbourg-Havre area have failed to gain a satisfactory foothold and I have withdrawn the troops. My decision to attack at this time and place was based on the best information available. The troops, the air and the Navy did all that bravery and devotion to duty could do. If any blame or fault attaches to the attempt it is mine alone.”

The facts are so easily verified that it would have been painless to get them right. From anyone else, this would have been laziness or stupidity. But with McCain it’s more likely a form of certainty. He has been demonstrating for months now that facts are beneath him. He’s busy emulating Dick Cheney, creating his own reality, which has nothing whatsoever to do with accuracy. He sneers at mere truth.

An Aaron Neville moment

I don’t believe there has ever before been an American president about whom this could plausibly have been said.

Baby system

My girls

B and I are easing into a schedule that you could roughly characterize as Snooze, Snack, and Stroll. In the morning I let her sleep off her morning feeding, then top her up a bit, take her out for a walk, offer lunch, recommend a nap, top her up again, then head out for another tour of Rochester’s fantastic trail system. Mom and dad take over evening duties.

Of course, we note the occasional Unfortunate Regurgitation Experience and the inevitable Odious Diaper Situation, and I’ve so far been treated to one Unbelievably Loud Shrieking Event. As a result, taking care of B inevitably reminds me of many past employers. But, as a baby, she has an excuse. Besides, she is way smarter—not to mention sweet and lovable. I don’t think I’ll go freelance.

Nannying

I got to Minnesota late yesterday afternoon, and have settled comfortably in to H and A’s guest room. A was off to work and H was off to her endocrinology rotation this morning, and I had sweet little B all to myself most of the day, though H did have a chance to come home for lunch. Mostly she slept. I gave her a bottle twice, before and after mom’s lunchtime feeding, and we read Hiawatha together at one point. We also went for a good long walk. It’s been a long time since I’ve pushed a stroller. I’m good at it. H and I — and Jasper the Wonder Dog had a run after she got home. We both felt pretty ratty, but we enjoy the chance to chat and spend this particular sort of time together. It turned out that B had been waiting for mommy to get home to get serious about feeding. She demanded sustenance all evening. It made me feel as if I’d been starving her all day. H says babies sometimes do this sort of cluster feeding and that they often wait for the true source rather than demanding bottles. Maybe I should offer her some candy.

Fall’s coming. I’m going.

How much we love iChat! B’s just beginning to smile,

so H pinged us and we got this snapshot.

Today was our first really chilly morning walk. It was just under 40°F (4°C) at about 7 AM, and although I stuck with shorts, of course, I went to a light turtleneck under my TGOC fleece. And I kept my wimpy hands in my pockets. September and October in New England can be as beautiful as anyplace anywhere ever gets. Today will climb into the high 60s, with blue skies and dry air. Right now, at about 11, it’s about 62 (16-17°C). Leaves have only just begun turning, and won’t be at their peak for 3-5 weeks. In the States, we run cross-country in the fall, so for me this always smells (and, oddly, tastes) like cross-country weather.

Despite the local meteorological perfection, I’m off to Minnesota on Sunday for about two weeks. H goes back to rotations and A doesn’t start his paternity leave until the first full week of October. I volunteered for nanny duties, which I picture as strolling, snuggling and cosseting, though I’m informed there are a few other functions I’m expected to handle.

The whole crew—H, A, sweet baby B, much of A’s family, many of our friends, and what seemed like half the town, spent time at our house over the last weekend, primarily to meet and greet our precious new addition. We had people sleeping all over the place, and I’m still finding used wine glasses in odd corners. It was glorious.

A’s mom, D, had a chance to spend some quality time with her granddaughter...


...as did my father with his great-granddaughter, assuring her as they danced that they were both, in fact, great.


I even stole the occasional moment with the main attraction. Here I am with her (deeply interested, as you can see) in front of a papier-mâché representation of Fred the Cat, once a library resident, and now its totem and symbol.


H and I got in some great runs together while she was here, and she tells me that she and Jasper the Wonder Dog are really cruising back in Rochester. So she’s well recovered from the rigors of childbirth and well established in her next phase of life, which she describes succinctly: MOOO!

Avert your eyes

Classy lefthander John Lester (see post below) won again yesterday, pitching 8 innings and giving up only 1 run. Great situational hitting against the very tough Roy Halladay, moving runners over then driving them in from scoring position; and really good defense. (Not one of these attributes would be believed by an old Red Sox fan come back to life in the 21st Century.) Papelbon had another shaky inning in relief. He’s leaving his fastball up, and hitters are tagging it. I think he needs a few days rest.

Tonight, Boston is ahead, 13-3, in the seventh. A win will tie them for the division lead.

Over the same two days, the U.S. economy has gone from bad to catastrophic; McCain’s campaign continues to deploy blatant, defiant, undisguised, and universally recognized lying as its central campaign strategy—without paying a penalty; and there is shit flowing in the streets of an utterly destroyed Galveston.

Go Sox!