We left Evelyn with N.’s parents over the weekend and drove to Dallas/Fort Worth for the wedding of Daniel Larsen, N.’s college roommate. Gorgeous wedding — two million billion orange orchids. So many, in fact, that I had nightmares about orchids overrunning the city, spouting up the toilet bowls, kitchen sinks, refrigerators, human veins, and cracks in the pavement. Stayed in the old Hotel Texas, the hotel where JFK and his wife spent the night before he was assassinated.

Had very consistent and erratic contractions Friday night at the groom’s dinner, so we went back to the hotel suite to attempt to ascertain exactly what was happening. Three to five minute contractions with ten to twenty seconds in-between? Ended up making a trip to the maternity ward for observation. Monitors showed that the Baby That Is Not Evelyn was fine. The perinatalogist gave me a magic pill that made contractions subside and sent us back to the hotel with sleeping pills and instructions to return if anything got worse.

Very happy to have made it back to Florida before the birth. Would hate to be stuck in Texas for a couple months. Would miss The Baby That Isn’t This Baby (which would be Evelyn) an unworkable amount.

Evelyn started crawling and getting herself into a sitting position while we were away! We also found out that she refers to me as Doe or Deux. (I’m really hoping she’s not spelling it Doh or Dough…)

Now I just have to figure out a way to last another couple weeks…

Right now Evelyn and her father are taking an evening constitutional. The rest is nice.

We’re home from Atlanta. ‘Twas loads of fun. Thanks, Sarah and Dave. (P.S. Evelyn photo afficionados, check Sarah’s Xanga page for photos of Evelyn with Hodgepodge kiddos. )

Well, the wife and d. are off to Murfeesboro for a couple of days or five, leaving me to lounge about and dread the list of chores I’ve drawn up for myself. I saw them off at the airport a couple of hours ago. Now that there are more persons in the employ of the TSA at the terminal than those whose pay comes from the airlines, a fellow has to watch his poor wife manage a stroller, diaper bag, purse, shoes, bouncing baby, and conveyor belt all on her own, while he shoves his hands in his pockets on the other side of the security zone and watches as her hairpins set off the metal detector! Not to say that she didn’t have a little assistance from some friendly X-ray operators, but, really! I might have to moonlight as a porter at the old Okaloosa Regional so that I may see her safely to the gate next time she wants to visit the old college pals. What’s the point of all this security clearance rot to work on warplanes if I can’t get near those of the transportative variety?

Ah well, time to ransack the filing cabinet and get rid of all the church bulletins and pay stubs I’ve been hanging on to - I’d like to keep them around so that I could point out, when appropriate, which psalm was the responsive reading on the second Sunday of March, 1999, or how many coin the US Gov. appropriated from my earnings when I worked as a pool boy in Seaside, oh these many years ago. Nevertheless, the wife says they must go. And our dear little filing cabinet, bedecked with band stickers, must find a new home, as the guest bedroom’s closet must now become the d.’s wardrobe and have room to spare for whatever clothes our guests see fit to bring with. Then it’s off to move the patio and hoe out a kitchen garden. What ho!

Iron and Wine with Calexico are playing the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta, 16 Dec. Sarah and I want badly to go and to take my little brother, J.D.M. However, we also would rather not pay the $22 cover each for such a large venue. Such bands should be enjoyed in a more intimate surrounding. Perhaps they’ll come play in my living room. Besides, we fly to M-Pol the following Monday. Do we have any friends that are willing to go bootleg the show for us and to allow us to live vicariously through them???

P.S. S., music lover that she is, does not endorse bootlegging of bands that she likes, but N., clueless rebel that he is, believes i.p. laws to be wholly immoral and an undue burden.

999

Evelyn and I spent last week at my parents’ home in Minneapolis enjoying the red, orange and yellow trees, grandparents, siblings, and city. Here are some November pictures. Evelyn is 4 months on the 11th of this month! She now smiles like a maniac, shakes rattles, loves playing without clothes on and trashing wildly like a lunatic, and hopping in her Jumpster like a wee elf.

I turned 25 on the 3rd. There’s a trip.