I haven't been paying close attention to the news lately. When war breaks out... I mean, when some asshole starts a war, I find that I can't take any news reports at face value (not that I can otherwise on a regular basis either), and the news reports that aren't pure propaganda are often just too distressing. As usual, all of the people calling the shots are safe behind walls and bunkers and the people who had nothing to do with the "reasons" behind the war are getting mowed down. And don't give me that bullshit euphemism, "collateral damage" either. It's not damage, it's death. Innocent people are having their lives ripped apart. Many of the soldiers are just scared kids.

I've seen a car a couple of times with the words "fuck Iraq" and "defend our country" carefully printed out on little placards in the rear window. Since the words aren't smeared by drool or horribly misspelled, I'm guessing that the driver probably had help from his mom or dad. I wonder what he thinks we should defend our country against? Oh yeah, that soundbyte word - "terrorists". Bombing countries doesn't get rid or terrorists, it just helps create more of them. And the word, "fuck"... how classy. This guy's link is definitely missing. He probably has sweaty dreams about Rush Limbaugh. Ooops. BAD mental picture.

cds I listened to while being upset with the state of the world: Saint Vitus "Die Healing", Klaus Nomi "Eclipsed - the best of...", Non "God & Beast" and "In the Shadow of the Sword", Saturnus "Martyre", and Sleepytime Gorilla Museum at the Bottom of the Hill 3/17/00

now: Arco "Transparency"

The new baby sheep at Hidden Villa must be getting all of the attention, because the sheep who is missing half a horn has all of a sudden become uncharacteristically affectionate. She sidles up to visitors and thrusts her head out imploringly. Of course, the majority of the visitors pay no attention to her. Poor sheep.
It was cold today, and it rained off and on. The lizards all stayed indoors. Garth told me that he spotted a Horned toad over the weekend though. He sat really still and watched it eat ants.
Tonight, a cat who is missing half a tail came up to me and demanded that I pat him. How could I refuse? But what is it about animals with bits of themselves missing that draws them to me? Two in one day.

The Dickens is currently asleep in the middle of the hall.

cds I listened to while wondering where the other half of the tail went: Savina Yannatou "Sings Manos Hadjidakis", David Corter "Didgeridoo Mania", Negativland "U2", Nocturnal Emissions "Tharmuncrape an'goo" and "Stoneface", Saint Vitus "Born Too Late" (and with seventies hair, no less...), and Nurse With Wound "Salt Marie Celeste" (made me feel like I was in an ocean liner on the ocean floor),

So there I was, sitting on the playground and minding my own business, when a seven year old boy looked up at me and asked the question. "Why do you have seventies hair?" Oh the tragedy of it all. He had noticed my horribly out of date hair. Whatever shall I do? Should I rush out to the barber shop? Maybe I can trade up a decade or two. How about some nineties hair? What the hell does nineties hair look like anyway? What should hair for the new millenium look like?

At least I wasn't wearing seventies pants.

And I was waylaid by that damn talkative security guard tonight. I don't care if his wife is young enough to be his daughter. I really don't.

cds I listened to from under my retro hair: Urna "Hadood", Nurse With Wound "A Sucked Orange", Saint Vitus "V", and "Live" (they have a thing or two to say about the seventies...), and Nina Nastasia "Dogs"

Willow went on her first real outing today. Jen and I took her to Hidden Villa. The temperature hovered around 80 degrees and we could smell the blossoming plant life all around us. The creek rushed and burbled down through the farm and away towards the bay. Quail and Robins played. Newts floated serenely in the pond (all except the one I briefly caught, who acted affronted and flopped pointedly back into the water). Banana slugs, who have to be the least camouflaged creatures on earth, lurked off to the side of the trail. Willow slept curled up in Jen's sling, and everybody who passed us remarked on how small she was. A couple walking the other way, with a two week old son, stopped and chatted for a moment. It's funny to think that Willow, who will be five weeks old tomorrow, should actually be about a month younger than this little baby, but due to circumstances beyond our control, is older. We got some good pictures (hopefully) of her in the natural light up on the hillside. On the way back to the van we stopped to look at the new baby lambs.

Tonight, the customer who likes his paper in the bush admitted to hitting the brandy and offered me a Pepsi. I politely declined, as I had a Thai iced tea in the car. Much better than Pepsi.

cds I listened to while drinking Thai iced tea: The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud "The Smell of Blood but Victory", The Moonlighters "Dreamland", Mourning Cloak "Beyond", Sadness "Evangelion", and Psi Vojaci "Narod Psich Vojaku"

now: Popol Vuh "In the Gardens of Pharao/Aguirre"

Yet another work week grinds to a close, with no information on what my pay is going to be reduced to. I did find out where the offices/drop site is moving to though. Were moving several doors down, into a smaller space - all in an attempt to cut costs. If I was smart, I'd be using this time to update my resume.
Tomorrow I have to get brakes for my car - something I do every two or three months. That is one more drawback of my current profession. It chews up cars and spits them out. I don't even know how many miles I've driven mine - the odometer (along with the speedometer) obstinately refuses to budge. Maybe I'll get that fixed tomorrow too. Maybe I'll see if they can figure out why the *check engine* light is on. Maybe I'll finally get somebody to disable the airbag light - although after three years I've managed to totally tune it out.

Willow has grown three inches in a month. Beat that.

I saw a small owl tonight, but it ignored me.

I'm going to go read for awhile now.

cds I listened to while being ignored by owls: Nurse With Wound "Spiral Insana", Roy Harper "Valentine", Sadness "Danteferno", The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud "Were You of Silver, Were You of Gold", Deutsch Nepal/TMLHBAC "A Night In Fear", Nurse With Wound/Stereolab "Crumb Duck", and Deutsch Nepal "Comprendido!...Time Stop!"

The newspapers were three hours late tonight. Something up at the printing plant must have, in the words of Nathan, "busted off and disappeared."

cds I listened to while waiting for papers: Uli Jon Roth "Hendrix Happening" and "Transcendental Sky Guitar", The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud "A New Soldier Follows the Path of a New King" and "Rest on Your Arms Reversed", Calexico "Aerocalexico", and Sadness "Ames de Marbre"

I've been delivering the Wall St. Journal at night since 1988. How's that for an admission? This is both a blessing and a curse. When I move on, which I will soon be doing, potential employers will no doubt be impressed that I've had the same job for fifteen years. This shows that I am dependable and loyal. Potential employers, after they are done being impressed by my non-flakiness, will notice that, yes... I have been a paperboy for a decade and a half. That just doesn't sound good, does it?
It has been a comfortable job and it pays well. It leaves my days and weekends free (the Journal only publishes five days a week). The only problem is that the mortally wounded economy has finally started to take its toll on the jobs that service the swiftly disappearing high-tech firms. Subscriptions are down. The company I work for is not making money. They're cutting our pay. I'm not sure how much the pay cuts are going to be, but I should know by the end of the week. This obviously makes the job less attractive. Up until now, the healthy paycheck helped make up for the stigma of the job description. Up until now.
Tonight, I had an interesting exchange with a customer:
CUSTOMER: (as I hand him his paper over the fence) "Is it convenient for you to deliver the paper like this?"
ME: "It doesn't matter to me. Where would you like it?"
CUSTOMER: (indicating bush) "Throwing it in this bush would be fine."
Now, why can't I have more customers like this?

cds I listened to while wishing I could throw all of the papers into the shrubbery: Roy Montgomery "And Now the Rain Sounds Like Life is Falling Down Through It", Tarantula Hawk "Live at KFJC 07/15/01", The Moon Lay Hidden Beneath A Cloud "s/t" and "Amara Tanta Tyri", Uli Jon Roth/Electric Sun "Earthquake", "Firewind", and "Beyond the Astral Skies", and Mirror "Eye of the Storm"

Later today, Willow will be exactly a month old. Her face is getting chubbier and she is awake/alert more often now. She weighs 5 lbs, 2 ounces. It is getting hard to remember what life was like before she came along. It seems like she has always been here.

I have to get up early to go to Hidden Villa, so I'll stop here.

cds I listened to while traveling thither and yon: Mogwai "EP + 2", Ragnarok (UK) "Domgeorn", Jocelyn Montgomery with David Lynch "Lux Vivens (Living Light) - the Music of Hildegard Von Bingen", and Rainbow "Live in Europe" (... oh please save us from extended guitar and drum solos...)

The van is still filled with detritus left over from this weekend's Irr.App.(ext.) performance. I suppose I shall clean it out tomorrow. The show, which was held at the Temescal Arts Center in Oakland, went even better than we expected it to. People actually showed up and payed money to see the show. The various things that had gone wrong during rehearsals had all been ironed out by the time we did the performance in front of the audience. We had made some last minute changes that improved things too. The scorpions behaved wonderfully as I persuaded them to walk over the microphone. R. danced around in the darkness beyond the table with the glowing scorpions while G. projected a film onto his white coat. M. tied up the audience and gave them gifts. R. gave the audience sandwiches. All of the various cords, bulbs, and instruments worked as they were supposed to, although I managed to crack my nose flute in my enthusiasm.
There were a lot of familiar faces in the audience. There was even a guy I hadn't seen in nearly fifteen years. The two Dans were there. The first Dan is the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off of his back. The second Dan (who, as G. put it, could probably fit inside the first Dan) is the kind of guy who would dribble sauce on the shirt given to you by the first Dan, and then throw it away before you discovered it had been soiled so he wouldn't get blamed for it. It's hard to believe that they share a name.
After the show, after the applause and the chatter had died down, we were treated to a picnic by Dawn McCarthy, who is always thinking up that kind of thing. If anybody reading this is interested in further details, follow the link to the OAC site where, at some point, photos and/or sound samples may appear.

cds I listened to while doing what I do: Mediaeval Baebes "Undrentide", Nurse With Wound "Who Can I Turn to Stereo", Sleepytime Gorilla Museum at the Bottom of the Hill, 2/23/01, Mirror "Nights", and Tarantula Hawk "Desert Solitaire"

Here it is nearly 4 in the morning and only Lexy and The Dickens are asleep. Nathan is awake because he had a bad dream about being kidnapped, Jen is awake because Willow is awake, Willow is awake because she's a baby and babies do that, and I'm awake because I'm always awake at this time. Oh yeah, and a cricket is awake - I think it's the one who lives amongst the towels.
I was awake to early this morning because the vent people came to vacuum out our heating vents. It really makes a difference. There must have been a hell of a lot of dust in there because, as Jen pointed out, they now blow about five times as hard. Oh yeah, and while I was awake listening to the people vacuum out our vents, The Dickens wandered in and blew a train whistle at me and finished her little concert by throwing something at my head. She's so cute. I wish I didn't need to sleep - it would make things so much simpler. ... but I do, so that's it for now.

cds I listened to while yawning: Pyogenesis "Waves of Erostasia", Miranda Sex Garden "Fairytales of Slavery", "Carnival of Souls", and "Tonight/Sex Garden", Ragnarok (UK) "To Mend the Oaken Heart", Rage & Symphonic Orchestra Prague "Lingua Mortis", Winfred E. Eye "s/t" and "The Day I Lost My Sea Legs", and Mediaeval Baebes "Salva Nos"

So, we're at war. Bombs and missiles are ending lives. Each one of these deaths is a knife twisted into the soul of a loved one. The wound festers and gives birth to a bright new hate which is aimed right back at the country that gave birth to the people who dropped the bombs and fired the missiles in the first place. And this is supposed to solve what problem? This is supposed to prove what? Why do I even have to remind people that wars don't solve problems? They only exacerbate them.
Here's a scenario I'd like to see: George Bush and Saddam Hussein both tried for crimes against humanity, and through a clerical error ending up as cellmates. Justice doesn't get more poetic than this.

On a related topic, I still have to stop at the little guard booth every night before entering the property occupied by a large, unnamed weapons manufacturer. They've gotten used to seeing me, and all of them now just wave me on through. All except one. This one guy, even though he has seen me many times, still insists on seeing my driver's licence. Is he really that stupid? Is he so afraid to show any personal initiative or individual thought that he wouldn't dream of saying to himself, "that's the same delivery guy who drives through here every night, so I'll just let him through without hassling him." ??? Does he see different things on my driver's licence every time he looks at it?
Tonight I made an exasperated face at him and he got defensive and told me not to give him any crap. That made me mad, so I gave him crap. Then I felt a little better.

And I saw one of those big, safe S.U.V.s the other day - completely upside down. I didn't look like any other cars were involved in the accident either. When the people inside recover from their injuries (assuming the accident wasn't fatal) I hope they go purchase a more sensible vehicle.

cds I listened to on the first day of war: Primordial "Spirit the Earth Aflame" and "The Burning Season", Miranda Sex Garden "Madra" and "Suspiria", Tattle Tale "Sew True", Ray's Vast Basement "On the Banks of the Time", Storm and Her Dirty Mouth "s/t", Kap "Feed Me", and The Katharine Chase Band "The Truth"

For some reason I couldn't get online in the middle of the night, so I am forced to blog under the rays of the sun. Last night the moon was full, as if it had consumed to much. It creaked and groaned across the sky and lit my way quite nicely.

The Dickens has decided that she likes sitting on top of my head. The only problem is that when I try to put her down she screams. I finally got her to redirect her attention to something else, but it didn't last too long. She pointed to the top of my head and said, "ride". After back in place, she politely thanked me.
Willow seems to like sleeping strapped in on top of the changing table. It is about the same size as the little bed she slept in at the hospital. Maybe she feels safe that way. She is nearly lost in her crib. It would be like an adult trying to go to sleep in a room the size of a backyard.

cds I listened to while hoping the moon wouldn't throw up on me: Wretched "Lotta Per Vivere", Miranda Sex Garden "Sunshine", "Play", and "Peep Show", Zygote "A Wind of Knives", Antony and Current 93 "live at St. Olave's" (I was in the audience, but was so tired that I thought I saw a ghost. Maybe I really did...), Praying Mantis "Live at Last", and Better Dead than Read - compilation

Okay, let's see if things work the way they're supposed to tonight. If you're reading this, that means they have.

We're slowly adjusting to living in a house with four children. Willow is at her most content when she is in somebody's arms. We juggle her back and forth a lot, although I'm slowly figuring out how to do just about everything one handed. Jen is still much better, and has prehensile toes to boot. Willow now weighs very close to five pounds (she may indeed be five pounds by now) and her face is looking a bit chubbier.

and now, a list of things recently purchased that will make life easier:

Bunk bed. It was put together with a bit of sweat and a small amount of cussing, but the kids have taken to it fairly well. No more mattresses on the floor for us.

Coffee pot. The old coffee pot started emitting the smell of fried wires and then just refused to brew anything - this after either not staying on or not staying off at the correct times for a month or two. The new coffee pot is quite high end. This is good. Coffee is good.

Wind scorpion. Okay, I'm not sure how this will make life easier, but it sure is cute. It's much smaller than the last one I had, which means that it will probably live longer. The last one now graces a piece of art created by M. for his art show at Aquarius records next week. It is wearing a little party hat and is posed so that it appears to be looking excited at the prospect of cake.

cds I listened to while enjoying the almost full moon: Days of the Moon "The Words and Music of David Mellor" and "The Prince", What Happens Next? "The First Year", Paradise Lost "Say Just Words", Current 93 "The Seahorse Rears to Oblivion", and Mental Measuretech "Songs From Neuropa"

Just for the record - the whole concept of "freedom fries" is about the stupidest thing I've ever heard.

Dammit! I'm having the same problem that Jen had. I wrote a rather lengthy post and then couldn't get it to publish. Something fishy is going on here. Here's the gist of it: I got a new bug. The kids got a new bed. We rehearsed for a show. Willow is cuter than you. I listened to a bunch of cds.

It is windy and slightly rainy tonight. Jen and Willow are asleep in the bed behind me, so I'm trying to type quietly. Last night Jen got barely any sleep, and I stayed up until 5:30 in the morning holding Willow so Jen could quiet down The Dickens. I watched a Frida Kahlo documentary I've had for years but for some reason had never gotten around to watching. She couldn't have kids due to a bus accident that (among other things) fractured her pelvis, and a some of her art reflects this longing for a motherhood that she could never experience. I've always felt drawn towards artists who channel their pain into their art - it is brave and honest, and... necessary. Willow mostly slept through it. We're discovering that she is perfectly content when cradled in our arms, but tends to squirm and fuss when put down. We're perfectly content holding her, so it's a good match. The only problem is that there are so many other things (and people) that need our attention. A case in point is The Dickens, who continues to teach us about the transitory nature of ownership. The most recent lesson involved a coffee mug I've had for years.

Earlier tonight I almost tripped over a duck who alerted me just in time by quacking at me. Moments later I got back in my car and listened to a sad song about a duck. How odd.

cds I listened to while avoiding waterfowl: Odetta "Best of the Vanguard Years" and "To Ella" (remember, you cannot almost sing), Upright Citizens "Underground", Mecca Normal "The First Lp", The Sun Also Rises "s/t", Malvina Reynolds "Ear to the Ground", Boiled In Lead "Orb", and The Wyld Olde Souls "Poems From the Astral Plane"

Willow is home and sleeping in a crib in our room. The other kids crowded around excitedly when we walked through the door with her, and The Dickens even licked her. Of course, she also licks dogs. So much for cleanliness. Now, in the wee hours of the morning, The Dickens is awake, and Jen hasn't gone to sleep yet. Somewhere a cricket is chirping. I have a feeling I should try to get some sleep now. I am happy.

cds I listened to while rushing to get back home: Ofra Haza "Shaday", Mecca Normal "Who Shot Elvis?", Odetta "Sings Ballads and Blues", Total Egon "Samling I Det Grona", The Billy Nayer Show "The Ketchup and Mustard Man" soundtrack, and Paradise Lost "The Last Time"

now: Popol Vuh "Bruder des Schattens - Sohne des Lichts"

There was a light misting of rain on my windshield tonight, which was nice, but I hope it doesn't rain too much tomorrow because it looks like we get to bring Willow home. It can rain all it wants after she's firmly ensconced in our room, but it wouldn't do at all for her to get rained on between the hospital and here. We've got a crib set up for her next to our bed, and Jen's friend K. is giving us a bunkbed for the boys. We thought that this was so nice of her that we went out and bought her a Bearded Dragon to replace their household's recently deceased one. The store we bought it from packed it up in one of those little chinese food takeout boxes. Strange but true.
Earlier, we went to Costco to get bedding, and The Dickens had a gleeful time charging up and down the aisles, dodging carts and growling to herself. I don't think she would have had more fun if we'd taken her to an amusement park.

I had a funny moment today when I realized that somebody I'd been trading e-mails with was actually somebody I knew using an assumed name. I'm not allowed to say more.

Willow, your eyes are liquid blue pools, the depths of which I cannot fathom. In them there is a hint of the beyond. It will fade as you become more firmly anchored in this reality, but the sheer wonder you see around you does not have to fade with it. Hold onto your sense of wonder. Always.

cds I listened to while being misted by rain: Mecca Normal "Sitting On Snaps", "Jarred Up", and "The Eagle and the Poodle", Kristin Hersh "The Grotto", Subhumans "29:29 Split Vision" and "Unfinished Business", Ofra Haza "Fifty Gates of Wisdom", and Tongue "Faulty Parts"

now: Popol Vuh "Nosferatu"

Willow might be coming home this week! She's out of her incubator (or isolette, as they're called) and is gulping down everything that is fed to her. We've been rushing around trying to get things ready. Very exciting. It's going to be a busy week.

cds I listened to while trying to figure out what else needs to be done before Willow comes home: Tom Rapp "A Journal of the Plague Years", Mecca Normal "Flood Plain", Paradise Lost "Gothic" ep, For The Dead In Space - Interpretations of the work of Tom Rapp and Pearls Before Swine, Strebers "kallt Stal/Varmt Blod", and Ofra Haza "Kirya"

Now: Faun Fables "Early Songs"

A Cheshire Cat moon hangs above.

Willow continues to grow bigger (she's back up to 4 pounds, 6 ounces) and stronger. She has been finishing her bottles at the designated feeding times, and is showing interest in her surroundings. Tonight, after she finished eating, she spent some time just looking around. Who knows what she makes of her surroundings - she seemed to be looking at the overhead lighting. She also looked at me, of course. It's amazing to cradle her in my arms while she tries out her eyes and her facial muscles. Her mouth changes from a smile to a little pout to an "o" of surprise and back again. It's sort of like she hasn't figured what all the buttons do yet. She'll learn.
She sucks on her bottle with more tenacity now, and doesn't lose interest. Earlier in the day she nursed and used the bottle. Jen has been pumping milk like crazy to keep up. We did manage to take a little break between feeding times and go see a movie - David Cronenburg's "Spider". If you've ever wondered how that haunted-looking guy who's muttering to himself while picking miscellaneous objects off the sidewalk got the way he is, this film offers one possible scenario. Very recommended.

Earlier this weekend I talked briefly with a friend (who I probably see about once a year) who had recently gotten hit by a car. She still stutters due to nerve damage sustained in the accident. I remember when I heard about her being hit I thought that if she had been more seriously injured (or worse) I might not have heard about it for a long time, if ever. It would be like looking up at the stars and seeing their reassuring light, even though some of those stars we "see" might actually have gone supernova during the vast span of time that it takes their light to reach the earth. One perceives that everything is all right until news to the contrary reaches one's ears. If the news, for whatever reason, never comes, then... well, I guess this would be a case of "ignorance is bliss". That said, I'm glad she escaped with only minor injuries.

I also managed to find the time to go on a hike with M. in the woods near his house. This was during the time that we had set aside to rehearse for the upcoming Irr.App.(ext.) show, but G. and R. decided to pick this weekend to become ill. Perhaps next weekend things will work out.

cds I listened to while light from stars that may or may not still be there shone down upon me: Forrest Fang "Gongland", Magma "Les Voix" and "Mekanik Kommandoh", Strebers "Oga For Oga", Pearls Before Swine "Constructive Melancholy", Univeria Zekt "The Unnamables", Vladimir Martynov "Night in Galicia", and Voivod "s/t"

now: Howard Shore "M Butterfly" soundtrack

The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit is a strange environment to spend one's first days in. Some of the babies are under Bili Rubin lights to combat jaundice. All of them are hooked up to monitors. Some have feeding tubes. Some are in incubators. This is the world that replaces the womb, since for one reason or other they can no longer be in the comforting, liquid darkness inside their mothers. Jen was telling me of a story she heard about a little girl (I think it was a girl...) who had spent the better part of a year in the N.I.C.U. before being sent off to the pediatric ward. The little girl, nearly one year old, had never seen anything but the N.I.C.U., and was very excited to see her new home away from home. It's all relative, I guess. These babies don't know any other world. They just recline in their plastic substitute wombs, waiting unknowingly for the day when they get to move beyond the walls into the world outside the hospital.

Willow is opening her eyes more, but lost an ounce - probably due to all the energy she has to expend to suckle. It's going to be a long month.

cds I listened to while rushing to get back home: Holy Smokes "s/t", Lydia Lunch "Widowspeak", Faraway Brothers "Start the Engine & Drive Away", and The Stalin "Stop Jap + 1 Mushi Go Go" (another bootleg of hard-to-find japanese punk...)

now: Nocturnal Emissions "Mouth of Babes"

I went to the hospital for Willow's 8 o'clock meal and managed to get her to drink about a third of it. The rest went through her feeding tube, which goes up her nose. She got her little fingers hooked around it a couple of times and managed to pull off some of the tape. It must be pretty uncomfortable. She squirmed and cried a bit as the nurse re-taped it, and then didn't go back to sleep right away. She just looked around a bit, and as I looked back I caught a glimpse of the little girl she'll be someday. She looks a bit like Sophie somehow, although I can't put my finger on exactly why I say that. I didn't leave until she closed her eyes again. I just couldn't. I sat there and rubbed her back until she felt comforted (or until I felt she felt comforted anyway).

The nurse asked me what her middle name was, and I said that we hadn't decided on whether or not she would have one. The nurse said that in the Philippines where she was from the children all got the mother's maiden name as their middle name. That way the mother's family name got carried on in some fashion. You learn something new every day. I told her that for a time in Germany it was legal for a man to take his wife's last name. Of course in the U.S. nothing this interesting ever happens. Culturally, we're a third world country.

cds I listened to while continuing to think about Willow: The Angels of Light "Everything Is Good Here/Please Come Home" (appropriate title), Low "The Curtain Hits the Cast", K./Low split ep, Lucifer Was "Underground and Beyond" and "In Anadi's Bower", Lydia Lunch "Honeymoon In Red", and The Stalin "Stop Jap + Go Go Stalin"

now: Lustmord "The Place Where the Black Stars Hang"

We visited Willow today (of course) and I got to take off my shirt and lay her against my chest, warming her with my own body the way nature intended it to be done. She's so light I could barely feel her. She is totally dependent on those around her for everything. It's funny how in our particular society most people raise their children to be independent when it seems that the natural state of things is interdependence. I suddenly think of a book I read once - the title was (if I remember correctly...) My Name is Chellis and I'm in Recovery From Western Civilization, by Chellis something-or-other. It's hard to divorce yourself from your culture. How do you raise a child without the insidious influence of the dominant culture? We limit ourselves by accepting the status quo. I want things to be better for Willow. As of yet she is unaware of the world around her. How long will she hold on to the dreamtime? How can we weave the dreamtime into reality? How long will the wonder last?

We're going to have to add a carseat to the van. Nathan gets to graduate to a booster seat and The Dickens gets Nathan's old seat. It seems that The Dickens feels she deserves a window seat. We shall see...

And how to change the sleeping arrangements at home...?

cds I listened to while thinking of Willow: Low "Christmas", "One More Reason to Forget", and "Things We Lost in the Fire", Tom Rapp "Sunforest", Spazz "La Revancha", As We Die for... Paradise Lost (tribute cd), and Low/Dirty Three "In the Fishtank"

now: Robert Rich/B. Lustmord "Stalker"

The operating room, with its lights and arcane gadgets, was full of hurried activity. Jen was on the table, with a screen between her head and the rest of her body so she couldn't see the operation. I walked up and held her hand. The nurse (or doctor?) who stood at the head of the bed motioned towards a chair behind her and told me that I might want to sit in it because people had been known to faint while watching c-sections. I told her that I was staying right where I was. I wanted to see our daughter being born. I wanted to stand witness to the procedure. I wanted to be right next to Jen.
She was awake, but could feel nothing but a slight tugging from below her torso. She asked me what I could see. They had already started the operation, and were moving quickly. they had covered her abdomen in that yellow plastic (surgical skin? I don't know what it is called...) and had already cut into her. I could see a cross section of skin and tissue where the lower half of the incision gaped open. The doctors stretched her open wider. I saw her water break and gush out, pooling on the plastic. The doctors' hands were inside her and then there was a baby being lifted out. Just like that. They whisked the baby into the next room and I followed, knowing that Jen was in good hands. This was my first glimpse of our daughter. She didn't look premature, even though I knew she was. Her head was round, not squished like it would have been if she had been delivered naturally. She was crying - a series of gurgly little cries that indicated there was fluid in her lungs. The fluid would have been squeezed out during the process of moving through the birth canal, but hadn't been in this case since she had been lifted through a different exit. A trio of nurses pounded on her back with what looked like little rubber suction cups, and siphoned fluid from her nose and mouth. The cries began to sound less phlegmy. They finally got to a point where they were satisfied, and took her off to the neonatal intensive care unit.

She weighed 4 pounds and 9.8 ounces at birth, and measured in at 16 inches. She was born at 5:55 pm on tuesday the 25th of February. Her name is Willow. It all happened so fast. I stood there dazedly while a nurse explained to me about the table they were putting her on - heated but not an incubator, and about the room itself. There were other babies there. Some where much smaller than Willow.

So, why did this all happen? It turned out that Jen had an abrupted placenta - it had come loose in a couple of places and was bleeding, which compromised that baby's blood supply and could have been really serious for both Jen and the baby if not checked. She pointed out some time later that if this had happened early last century there was a good chance that they both would have died. As it is, we have a daughter who will be in the hospital for a few more weeks. She has a touch of jaundice, can't regulate her temperature very well, and needs to put on some weight. She spends roughly 99% of her time sleeping, and when she wakes up she looks like a little gnome. She is really good at knitting her little brow and giving the world a look of consternation - sort of the look you'd expect a gnome to bestow upon you if you ever came across one behind a rock or under a bush. It's a look that says, "I've been discovered and I don't know if I'm happy about it." When I look back at her I marvel at the fact that she was supposed to be inside Jen for another six or seven weeks. Her eyes don't really focus on anything. It's as if they are still turned inward, seeing mysteries from some previous world. I imagine that Willow has a wisdom that can't be communicated.

Maybe her middle name should be "Gnome". Somehow I don't think Jen will go for it.

In order for us to visit Willow now, we have to spend three minutes scrubbing our hands and arms in a little washroom and put on a hospital smock over our clothes. A couple of days ago the man at the next sink turned to me and said, "I know you." It turned out he was an old co-worker of mine from way back when I worked at Tower Books. My main memory of him was of the time one of the bookshelves in the back room, loaded with books, fell over on top of him. By the time I arrived on the scene, other employees had lifted it off and he was lying on his back in a pile of children's books. But that was then, and this is now. Now he weighs a hundred pounds less (this is why I didn't immediately recognize him) and had a granddaughter sleeping in the little bed next to Willow's. We also share the same first name.

I wore a shirt to the hospital yesterday that depicted a pair of smoker's lungs - a photo of real, blackish, diseased lungs with the caption "smoking is cool!" underneath. I figured it would go over well with the hospital staff. It did. On the way out a rather humorous thing occured. A man, in an attempt to cadge a cigarette, asked if I smoked. Some people's powers of observation are a little... what is the word I'm looking for... absent.

Jen came home today. She is really unhappy over the fact that Willow is still in the hospital. So am I, of course, but Jen is really feeling it. We're going to spend as much time there as possible, which isn't as much time as we would like. The other kids make that difficult. My jobs make that difficult. We are slightly consoled by the fact that Willow spends most of her time sleeping. She is not crying and searching for us. She is snoozing in her warm little bed. That actually sounds like a good idea...

cds I listened to while thinking about Willow: Nurse With Wound (strangely enough, there is a nurse with a wound in the maternity ward - she has a bandage over one of her eyes) "A missing sense" (if the nurse had bandages over both of her eyes, she would indeed be missing a sense...), Love is Colder Than Death "Atopos", Low "Dinosaur Act", "Last Night I Dreamt That Somebody Loved Me", and "Secret Name", Le Mystere des Voix Bulgares "A Cathedral Concert", Philippe Eidel and Arnaud Devos/Les Voix Bulgares de L'ensemble Radio Sofia "Balkan", Pearls Before Swine "Balaklava", Bee and Flower "What's Mine is Yours", and Low & Springheel Jack "Bombscare"

now: Unblocked disc 2: From the Danube Through the Carpathians

Last tuesday Jen called me at work and said that the bleeding that had been mystifying us for a couple of days had gotten worse, and that she wanted to go have it looked at. She sounded worried, so I left work and drove quickly home. I met her in the driveway. Our friend Diana was there to drive her to the hospital (at this point I still thought she was going to go have a simple sonogram). I followed them in my car to Valley Medical Center where we bypassed the emergency room, electing instead to go directly upstairs to Labor and Delivery. We explained our problem and were seen quickly (by hospital standards). A lot of the staff remembered her from her previous stay in December, so they already knew a bit about the history of the pregnancy. It felt like a bad kind of deja-vu. They saw us in the same triage room we had been in last time, one bed over. The bleeding was copious enough to worry them and it was determined that is was not coming from the cervix, but through it from the inside - most likely from her placenta. The doctors started talking about c-sections, and the feeling of deja-vu grew more intense. At least this time we were closer to the baby's due date. Our hopes of having a home birth were dashed, and before we knew it Jen was being wheeled down the hall to an operating room. I was going to be able to witness the operation, but had to get into hospital scrubs. I found myself in a little supply room where I struggled into the necessary garments. Through a gap between some shelves I could see out the window as the sky began to darken in preparation for the oncoming night. On a shelf behind my I noticed boxes containing something called "skin staplers". Out in the hall I could hear a nurse (or perhaps a doctor) discussing the operation, calling it "another c-section". I wanted to walk out there and introduce myself to her as Another C-section's husband, but thought better of it. I reminded myself that what was hopefully a once-in-a-lifetime event for me was probably a several-times-a-day occurence for them. Then a nurse rushed in and told me they were ready to begin the operation. I dropped the bag containing Jen's clothes, pulled on a mask that was hastily handed to me, and rushed into the operating room... (to be continued)

I spend most of my time here writing about inconsequential things, in part because I habitually type entries right after getting off work. I think I will save the story of Willow's birth for the weekend when I'm less tired (right...) and have more time. My head is still spinning. It was cloudy on her birthday, and raining tonight. Some trees are in bloom. Fears of economic disaster and war fill the papers. ... and Mr. Rogers is dead. R.I.P. Fred Rogers. Now I must sleep.

The first cds I listened to after becoming a father: Coil "live at the Sonar Festival, Barcelona, Spain" and "Live in NYC, August 18, 2001", Life Garden "Pry Open my Mouth with the Red Knife of Heaven" and "Ahitanaman", Paradise Lost "Icon" and "As I Die", Le Mystere des Voix Bulgares "3", and Mary Lou Lord "Got No Shadow"

now: Forrest Fang "The Wolf at the Ruins"

Welcome Willow, who showed up unexpectedly early and sleeps a lot. More to follow...

It has been raining all night, wetting the inside of my car and causing my automatic locks to play tricks on me. Tomorrow I work all three jobs in a row with a meeting tacked onto the second one. Hooray!
The first job of the day is Hidden Villa, and will be my first farm tour of the year. If only I could get them to pay me. It's kind of funny how the kind of jobs that one is willing to do for free often don't pay anything anyway. Some day I'll find a job that satisfies me both spiritually and financially. I will! Don't think I won't!
I looked at some teaching websites yesterday, and I'm going to look some more when I get a moment. I'm going to fix my resume as well. But now I'm going to sleep.

cds I listened to while getting rained on: The Legendary Pink Dots "Greetings 9 + Premonition 11", Ute Lemper "Punishing Kiss", T.A.C. "Waiting for the Twilight", Eric McFadden "Who's Laughing Now?", Zabe i Babe "Drumovi", and Eve Libertine/Nemo Jones "Skating the Side of Violence"

now: Forrest Fang "World Diary"

I've been hearing frogs singing in the ditches lately. I thought about how single-mindedly oblivious they are - just singing away into the darkness in an age old cycle of reproduction. They will go on singing as long as they are able, even though frogs have been mysteriously disappearing all over the globe. The song of the last frog will sound no different than the songs of his ancestors, but it will be a very sad song nonetheless. That said, the local Tree frogs seem to be hanging on pretty well, and I love to hear them sing.

We had the second Irr.App.(Ext.) rehearsal this weekend. I'm getting pretty excited about this. It should end up being both visually and aurally interesting. Maybe people will even show up for the evening. Matt has made some flyers which should draw the right kind of people. The fine print says "no mendicants".

The rest of the weekend was largely taken up with work of one kind or the other. I put in an extra shift at the museum on saturday, hauled a desk from my mom's to its current resting place to the right of the computer I'm typing this on, cleaned various parts of the house.... the list goes on. Jen got started on the play room, which looks like somebody picked it up and shook it. Next weekend we'll relax.

cds I listened to while being serenaded by frogs: So Much Hate "Seein' Red", Paradise Lost "Lost Paradise", The Legendary Pink Dots "Malachai - Shadow Weaver Part 2", An Orang-utan Howling For Egg (compilation w/Nurse With Wound, Aranos, Volcano the Bear, etc...), and Tim Eriksen "s/t"

now: Her Song compilation

Jen brought the kids to the museum today for the first time this year. Sophie spent a lot of time at the sand table playing with the colorful little plastic cups and saucers. Nate went on my break with me even though I told him that I didn't have enough pocket change to buy him a soda. This news deterred Lexy, who elected to remain behind.
Another week draws to a close. It is cold outside and I am tired - probably from getting up early to deal with my malfunctioning car a couple of times this week.

I downloaded an Mp3 of me yesterday. Greg put up an Mp3 (on the OAC site) of a brief reading I did before a Sleepytime Gorilla Museum show way back in 1999. Since it was in a pub, people talked throughout, but were at least kind enough to clap at the end.

cds I listened to while... well, while driving around in the dark: Sofa Head "Pre Marital Predicament", Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds "Nocturama" (also came with a fun DVD that we watched part of the other night before the kids came home...), Pagan Altar "s/t", Eric McFadden Experience "Our Revels Now Are Ended", and Cordelia's Dad "Spine"

now: Northampton Harmony "The Hookes' Regular Sing"

The next time I change a bulb in one of my tail lights I will turn it slightly before yanking on it. They just don't make anything like they used to, do they? At least all of the lights on my car work now. It only cost me $80 too.

I bought a couple of new scorpions last friday. My reasons for doing this were as follows: 1) I recently moved the scorpion I already had into a larger cage, and there was room for him to have some companions, and 2) We need scorpions for the upcoming Irr.App.(ext.) show. I took all of the scorpions to the rehearsal for said show on saturday, and they performed well. The three scorpions, after a bit of bickering over who got what hiding place, have settled in to their new digs.
Now, from the vantage point of almost a week later, I have come to the conclusion that the fact that we decided to use scorpions for the Irr.App.(ext.) show has ended up saving their little lives. During the week, the pet store where I purchased them caught on fire and many of the animals were killed. It has not yet been determined how the fire started. I can't even begin to describe the immense tragedy of all of those animals helpless in their cages as flames and smoke surrounded them. My heart goes out to the owners of the store, who are suffering through this first hand as they try to save the injured animals who survived the blaze.

There really isn't a whole lot of good news anywhere these days...

cds I listened to while no longer feeling like a soccer mom: Klangbad - first steps (compilation), Mandible Chatter "Measuring the Marigolds", Cordelia's Dad "Comet", Dead Raven Choir "Armoured Wolves", S.N.F.U. "Something Green and Leafy This Way Comes", Otyg "Sagovindars Boning", and Landberk "Lonely Land"

now: Charlemagne Palestine "Schlingen-Blangen"

I put in a new brake light fuse this morning and gently pushed down on the brake pedal with my hand. Since my head was down near the fuse box I could hear the new fuse break. So much for re-fusing. I took my car to the shop. After a whole afternoon of waiting (and getting a lot of things done around the house) I was informed that they had gotten out the mangled bulb and restored my brake lights to working order. My tail lights however, remain nonfunctional. Tomorrow I'll try the auto electric specialists. Tonight I did the route in the minivan. Slow and comfortable.

I do have some other things to write about, but they'll have to wait because I'm going to sleep now so I can get up bright and early to try to get my car fixed. That just sounds depressing doesn't it?

cds I listened to while feeling like a soccer mom: Mandible Chatter "Drinking out the Hourglass", Landberk "Indian Summer" and "One Man Tells Another", S.N.F.U. "The One Voted Most Likely to Succeed", and Sopor Aeturnus "The Vampire Sucking at his Own Vein"

now: Nurse With Wound/Aranos "Acts of Senseless Beauty"

Jen mentioned to me last night that my left tail/brake light was out, so I pulled the bulb out... and managed to leave the bottom portion of it firmly attached. After mauling it with a couple of pairs of pliers, I gave up. When I started my car to go to work, I noticed that my dashboard lights had joined the strike. An hour or later, I discovered that all of my rear lights were nonfunctional. I finished the night with my hazard lights on, and thankfully saw no cops, except for one who looked like he was thinking about pulling me over but changed his mind. Upon arriving home I looked at my fuse box, consulting the owner's manual as I did so. In the little diagram it indicated that I should use the thoughfully provided fuse puller to extract fuses for inspection. Of course, the space where the fuse puller was supposed to be was quite empty. So instead of going to Hidden Villa tomorrow I'm going to be scrambling about in an attempt to fix my car. Grumblegrumble.

cds I listened to in the flashing glare of my hazard lights: Saw Throat "Indestroy", Laibach "NATO" and "Jesus Christ Superstars", S.N.F.U. "The Last of the Big Time Suspenders", Keuhkot "Vasen ja Oikea", Otyg "Alvefard", and Cordelia's Dad "How Can I Sleep?"

now: The Tear Garden "To Be An Angel Blind, The Crippled Soul Divide"

It was warmer tonight, and threatened rain. The sky was full of interesting clouds at sunset.

My speedometer and odometer are getting lazy. I have to drive for ten minutes or so before they'll deign to work. I can just see myself getting pulled over during that first ten minutes and the cop asking me, "do you know how fast you were going?", to which I'll truthfully reply, "no, I have absolutely no idea."
My *check engine* light has been on for most of the week too. Maybe my car senses that I'm about to pay it off.

I have a three day weekend! No work on sunday night! I'm working at the museum on monday though. Double pay makes this attractive.

cds I listened to while not knowing how fast I was going: Rudimentary Peni "Pope Adrian 37th Psychristiatric", Mandible Chatter "Grace", Calla "Televise", Orphaned Land "El Norra Alila", and Laibach "Opus Dei"

now: Landberk "Riktigt Akta"

It rained a bit tonight, and moisture hung in the air.

I made up another batch of that glue/powdered soap/water concoction today. I then added white paint and shaving cream to it. The kids at the museum loved it, and soon there was white glop everywhere. One little boy, no more than three years of age, held up a double handful of rubbery, gluey mess and proclaimed, "it looks like a placenta!" It turned out that his younger sister had been born at home. Just like Sophie. That gave me an idea for a more spring themed activity (right now we're doing winter themed ones) Since spring is a time of births, we could add some red coloring to the concoction and all of the kids could gather 'round and make their own placentas! It would be a great learning experience for everyone! All of those kids who were born in hospitals need to know this stuff...

This, of course, is why Ginny (our early childhood education guru) always looks a bit dubious when I say I have an idea.

cds I listened to while being moist: Raw Power "Reptile House", Woven Hand "s/t", Tracy Chapman "Telling Stories", Rudimentary Peni "Cacaphony" (still the best musical H.P. Lovecraft tribute out there...), Martin Simpson/Jessica Ruby Simpson "Band of Angels", Cordelia's Dad "Roadkill", and Laibach "The John Peel Sessions"

now: Cliff Martinez "Kafka" soundtrack

Jen got a whole bag of these neat little hand-warmers sometime before Christmas from the mother of one of Lexy's classmates. They work on the same principle as the wheat bags we have floating around the house - you put them in the microwave for a couple of minutes and then soothe your aches away with soft warmness. I finally remembered to take one of the hand warmers to work, thinking that it would be nice to have out there in the cold february dark. Once at work I discovered that somebody had taken the carousel out of the microwave, and that somebody else had evidently had a little trouble keeping their coffee in the cup while heating it (the coffee maker bit the dust a month or two ago...) I looked around for something to put between the hand warmer and the puddle of coffee inside the microwave. In the end, I stuffed it inside a coffee cup and started heating it. It promptly caught on fire, sending smoke out into the room. I turned off the microwave, removed the charred cup holding the even more charred handwarmer, went to the bathroom and doused the whole mess with water. Oh well... at least we have more of them.

cds I listened to while wishing my hands were warm: Raw Power "Burning the Factory", Amalia Rodrigues & the History of Fado, Tracy Chapman "New Beginning", and Laibach "The Occupied Europe Tour 1985"

now: Simon Fisher Turner "The Garden" soundtrack

The mercury, with the help of some kindly clouds, has climbed a bit. There was a beautiful sunset, seen between buildings, yesterday evening. During the afternoon I bought a black light and a couple of sundews. The black light is for the scorpion, who phosphoresces greenly under its influence. It is to be used for the upcoming Irr.App.(ext.) show. By the coating of dust on the box, I could tell that it had been sitting on the shelf at the store since the mid Seventies. The sundews are for the little fruit gnats that are so populous inside our house. Or should I say that the fruit gnats are for the sundews? Carnivorous plants - the natural cure for pesky insects.

I tried to buy a book on sunday while we were up in San Francisco, but was told that the last copy in stock was on hold for somebody. They informed me I could special order it, so I filled out a card and we left the store. Little did I know that the book was actually on hold for me. Hours later, when we arrived home, there were a couple of messages on the machine. The first one was from the bookstore, saying that the book was on hold for... my brother. The second message was from my brother, and contained a fair amount of laughter (which, in truth, had nothing to do with the first message, but the juxtaposition of the two messages was amusing). Subsequent phone calls revealed that he had ordered it with the intention of giving it to me as a present for Christmas. It had arrived too late. How silly.

cds I listened to while not wearing a scarf: Laibach "M.B. December 21, 1984" and "Krst Pod Triglavom - Baptism", Raw Power "Wop Hour", Iron & Wine "The Creek Drank the Cradle", Mandible Chatter "Hair Hair Lock & Lore", Der Eisenrost/C.H.C. Systems demo tracks, and Orphaned Land "The Beloved's Cry"

now: Nurse With Wound "Soliloquy for Lilith"

The moon is halfway there, and it is cold. The little guard shack is back at the entrance to the building complex that houses the company I won't name here. This morning it was populated by not one, but two guards. Maybe they get lonely. They looked a bit like Laurel and Hardy. They could use the time in between harassing paper carriers to perfect a comedy routine or something. Maybe tomorrow night I'll get the Three Stooges. I hope I don't get a double poke in the eyes.

Speaking of comedy routines. We went and saw Culture Clash at the San Jose Rep on saturday. This is the kind of comedy that makes me laugh - the socio-political kind. They were masters of the costume and accent change as well. It's good to see anti war, pro-humanity themes being performed upon the stages of our backwater little burg. Some of it was quite poignant.

Oh, and we're now at orange, which is only one step away from red. I think they came up with this stupid color code so the little Bush could understand things without having to ask an aide. It's sort of the presidential version of those cash registers in fast food restaurants that show pictures of food items on the keys so that the employees who can't read or count can successfully operate them.

Sunday was fun too. All in all, a good weekend.

cds I listened to while being irritated by security guards: Mikhail Alperin "Prayer", Ratos de Porao "Cada Dia Mais Sujo E Agressivo", Laibach "Ljubljana-Zagreb-Beograd", Tracy Chapman "Matters of the Heart", Tenhi "Vare", and Ninewood "American Salt Lick"

now: Nurse With Wound "The Swinging Reflective"

Another weeks winds to a close. It's still cold outside (relatively speaking) and the sky is clear.

Since I'm so obsessive about listing the cds I listen to, I thought I'd list some of the books I've read recently:

Robert Aickman - The Collected Strange Stories Vol. 2
Michael Moore - Stupid White Men
Count Stenbock - A Secret Kept
Robert McCammon - Speaks the Nightbird
Thomas Ligotti - Sideshow and other Stories

I'm currently reading Tapping the Dream Tree by Charles de Lint. We're still in the process of reading Lord of the Rings to Alexander. It's too bad Nathan is just a little too young to be interested in the story - he just wants to hear the parts with Aragorn. He has also developed a habit of getting all restless and wiggly at bedtime, and often has to leave the room so everybody else can prepare for sleep. Maybe we'll have to read the whole thing every few years so all of the children can experience it. That would be fun. We'd probably end up knowing the whole book by heart.
Jen and I were talking about books the other night - I mentioned that I tend to peek at people's book shelves and cd racks whenever I find myself in a previously unvisited house. This is the closest I get to being a snoop. You can tell a lot about people by their choices of reading and listening material. Perhaps the hypothetical visitors to this site (outside of the people who already know me) will be able to get in some good snooping time by reading my obsessive little lists.

cds I listened to while thinking of other things to make lists of: Laibach "s/t", Ratos de Porao "Periferia - 1982", Carolyn Hester "The Tradition Album", Sviraj "Ciganine" and Frankie Armstrong "Till the Grass O'ergrew the Corn"

now: Michael Nyman "The Piano" soundtrack

It figures...

A couple of days ago I noticed that the Powers That Be had erected a shiny new yellow neon crosswalk sign to preside over their freshly painted new crosswalk. It was one of those signs that could be seen from a half mile away, so bright did it shine... Then, today as I drove home from work I noticed that at some point over the last day or so some genius had not stopped at the crosswalk. The shiny new sign lay on its face, with a big dent in its pole. They're going to have to erect stronger signs if they want them to survive the mean streets of our little community.

cds I listened to while stopping at crosswalks: Opeth "My Arms, Your Hearse", and "Still Life", Nurse With Wound "Thunder Perfect Mind", The Black Lily Sisters "Night With Her Train of Stars and Her Gift of Sleep" and one that I really don't know the title to because, like many Americans, I am sadly monolingual., Yma Sumac "Legend of the Sun Virgin", and Carolyn Hester "s/t"

now: Santa Sangre soundtrack

I did a little searching around, and discovered that the title of the Black Lily Sisters cd mentioned in the last post is "Saigo Wa Tenshi". The internet is a wonderful tool. I still have no idea what it means though.

Leaves are gathering atop the squirrel, forming a blanket that will never keep him warm. Elsewhere and slightly later, I saw a gopher being hounded by two very interested cats. The mostly black cat kept rushing up to the little rodent and nearly getting his nose nipped. The tan and white cat hung back a bit, choosing to let his compatriot do all of the dirty work. I contemplated an attempted rescue, but decided that it was not my place to interfere. The cats, after all, have to eat - and from the look of things, the gopher was holding his own. I'm sure it didn't last though. Gophers are slow moving, and this one seemed a bit confused about what to do.
Later still, I was on the freeway and for the second time in my life I hit a raccoon. I saw a split second of brown movement and then came the impact. Just another in a long series of little lives lost to traffic. At least it was fast. I think I'd rather go like that than be played with by a couple of cats. Not that we ever have a choice.

cds I listened to while meditating on mortality: Kukl "Holidays in Europe" and "The Eye", Nurse With Wound "Second Pirate Session", Sui Vesan "Sui", and The Black Lily Sisters (aka Les Soeurs De Lilis Noires) "s/t"(? - again, my inability to read japanese may be hiding the title from me)

now: Howard Shore/Ornette Coleman "Naked Lunch" soundtrack

The squirrel was still there, but had been kicked aside like yesterday's paper. It's still cold, and the moon is a fingernail paring.

We brought in the two bookcases that have been gathering dust in the garage. Unkie Jay helped us. We then managed to completely redo the front room, and I'm really happy with the way it looks now. The bookcases are still mostly empty, but the possibilities of what we can do with all of that extra shelf space are intoxicating. I'm looking at the piles of cds in the corner by the bed... Or perhaps books... or videos... At any rate, it's one more thing we can cross off our "to do" list. I think I'll do that right now. Hold on... And now, glowing with a sense of accomplishment, I think I'll go read the new Thomas Ligotti book I got in the mail the other day.

cds I listened to while wishing somebody would do something about that little dead squirrel: Dulce Pontes "O Primeiro Canto", Scott Kelly "Spirit Bound Flesh", Kirvasto "Taydellisia Kysymyksia, Taydellisia Vastauksia", Ninewood "New Can of Ice", and G.I.S.M. "SoniCRIME TheRapy" (holy shit! This will peel the skin off your ears... brought all the way back from Japan by my friend Jeff. Thanks Jeff.)

now: Kodo vs Yosuke Yamashita "In Live"

It was cold and clear tonight, and looks like it will be so for the rest of the week. There was a dead squirrel in a parking lot, looking like he had decided to take a nap. Poor little guy.

Matt, Greg, and I got together for a preliminary rehearsal for the upcoming Irr.App.(Ext.) live debut. We tootled away on our tin whistles and plotted and planned. It was decided that we needed more scorpions, so Matt and I went to East Bay Vivarium to inspect their supply. They had a really cool Goliath Bird-eating spider, and a Hissing scorpion, and a Thai something-or-other Edible spider (very pretty), but they all had red dots on their enclosures, which means that they are aggressive and/or toxic. Not good pets to own around kids. Same goes for the Beaded lizard, which I hadn't known was legal to sell, since they are venomous. He was cute though, looking for all the world like the Doggie in the window that wants to go home with you. The fact that he was venomous and priced at $1500.00 meant that he stayed where he was. Of additional interest was the Trans Pecos Rat snake, who looked just like the rat snake currently sleeping in the cage next to the computer. I had thought he was a Black Rat snake - now I think he's a Trans Pecos Rat snake. Only he knows for sure.

The continuing soundtrack to my labors: Neurosis "Sovereign", "Locust Star", and "A Sun That Never Sets", Opera IX "The Black Opera: Symphoniae Mysteriorum in Laudum Tenebrarum", Andrew King "The Amfortas Wound", Lo'Jo "Boheme de Cristal", Steve Von Till "As the Crow Flies", and King Crimson "In the Court of the Crimson King"

now: Africa - Music from the Nonesuch Explorer Series

Some of the trees are already in bloom. I love walking into their area of influence at night - I don't actually stop and smell the flowers, but I maybe slow down a little bit. I think the fact that January is so warm is fooling the plants. That said, I think I'll go read for awhile.

cds listened to while smelling the flowers: Kecak - the Choral Drama of Singapadu Village, Areski et Brigitte Fontaine "je ne connais pas cet homme", Nightwish "Angels Fall First", Kodo "Kaiki", Keuhkot "Ruskea Aikakirja", and Nurse With Wound "An Awkward Pause"

now: Fern Knight - Mp3 from forthcoming release

I met Big Bird today. Sort of. Okay, so it wasn't really Big Bird. It was Caroll Spinney, who spends much of his life hiding inside Big Bird. When he's not hiding inside Big Bird, he's in that trash can underneath Oscar the Grouch. When he's not doing either of these things, he's walking around museums. Today he was at our museum. He told me to "keep up the good work." I told him the same thing. What was I doing to inspire such a comment from such an esteemed individual? I had mixed together Elmer's glue with Ivory Snow soap and added water, and was dipping the resulting stretchy, rubbery strands of no-longer-sticky glue in white paint and painting pictures with them. Oh yeah, I was also helping some kids thoroughly decimate a couple of cans of shaving cream. ...and I get paid for this!

I figured out that on the days when I go to both jobs I drive a total of 115 miles.

cds I listened to while driving 115 miles: Ulver "Lycantropen Themes", My Dying Bride "The Light at the End of the World", Nightwish "Sleeping Sun", Louisa John-Krol "Alexandria", Vera Bila & Kale "Kale Kalore", Giya Kancheli "Caris Mere", and Keuhkot "Mita Otat Mukaan Muistoksi Sivistyksesta"

now: Custer LaRue "The Demon Lover"

testing... onetwothree. Okay, it works again...

At exactly 1:11 this morning my odometer clicked over to 222222. I drive a lot. At the time, I was drinking a Basil Seed Drink with honey. It is interesting indeed how each individual basil seed is coated with a gelatinous substance. Yummy.

cds I listened to while drinking my drink: Radio Tarifa "Cruzando el Rio", In Slaughter Natives & Deutsch Nepal "Mort aux Vaches", Misia "Paixoes Diagonais", and My Dying Bride "Like Gods of the Sun"

The only good thing about the Stuporbowl is that it keeps all of the idiots off the streets for an afternoon. The worst thing about the Stuporbowl is that all of those idiots come spilling out into the street as soon as the game is over. I heard on the news that a bunch of the aforementioned people showed their great refinement and compassion by trashing a good part of Oakland. It may be a bit elitist to say this, but one can often gauge the worth of a particular type of entertainment by observing the actions of its fans. You don't see people pouring out of the opera house and overturning police cars. You don't see people leaving the symphony and breaking out all of the windows at the nearest McDonald's. You hardly ever see people rampaging out of a play and venting their passions on public property. People don't do doughnuts in intersections after an invigorating day at the museum. People don't even do this sort of stuff after heavy metal shows. And it doesn't seem to matter what team wins. I knew, even before I turned on the radio, that there would be reports of rioting in the streets. Now don't get me wrong, there are things worth rioting over, but a bunch of overpaid guys running around on field with a turd-shaped ball is not one of them. If these people like this game so much, why don't they use up some of their excess energy by actually PLAYING it! What is the big deal about watching other people play it and getting so worked up that you have to go break things afterward? The announcer on the radio mentioned that 400 police officers were needed to watch the streets in Oakland after the game... and that wasn't enough. I wonder how many other crimes were committed while the cops were watching the morons who thought it would be cool to hoot and holler and break things in the streets. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, they also apparently started a lot of fires. And people wonder why I think organized sports are so stupid. That said, I realize that not everybody who likes watching games is a moron. It's just that the morons are louder and more visible than the more responsible fans. And there are so many of them. And boy are they dumb. Some of them may even make that ignoramus in the White House seem semi-intelligent. Rant over.

In other news, the python tried to eat my hand today. I must be getting slow, because this is the second time in less than a month that he has latched onto me. Oh well, at least I no longer have anything venomous.

cds I listened to while grumbling about the senseless stupidity of certain people: My Dying Bride "The Angel and the Dark River/Live at the Dynamo", In Slaughter Natives "Sacrosancts Bleed" and "Purgate My Stain", Ratos De Porao "Feijoada Acidente?", Lake of Tears "The Neonai", and Radio Tarifa "Temporal" ...and I didn't even feel like wrecking anything after I listened to these!!

now: Heavenly Voices vol.2

Tonight all of the police were in one place - right in the middle of my route. They were walking in the road, leaning against their cars, and shining their flashlights everywhere. I don't know who they were looking for, and knew better than to ask. I'm pretty sure it was the driver of the car that sat perpendicular to the lanes in the middle of the road. It looked burned, but I'm not sure... This meant, of course, that if I had the desire to do so, I could break all sorts of laws elsewhere on my route with impunity. It's good to know where all of the cops are. I wish it happened more often.
Yesterday a man in a trailer park yelled and ran after me. I let him run a bit before stopping to see what he wanted. He just wanted to tell me that he didn't take the paper. I had been delivering one to his address, but it was somebody else's name on the label. That makes this the second time this had happened recently. The other time the person just called in and said that the name was fictitious and that the paper was jamming their gate. I'm glad it was jamming their damn gate because their house is really ostentatious - it even has those stupid lion statues on either side of the front walk. And their gate - it's across their driveway! What? Don't they trust their neighbors? I think I'm getting all of these fake subscriptions because somebody somewhere is looking at a really old list of people who used to take the paper and just signing them up again. This would explain why I'm delivering a paper with "Hilton" on the label to the Four Points Sheraton hotel. Somebody is picking that one up though. ...probably the janitor.

Oh, and we heard from medi-cal. Our total bill for Jen's hospital stay is a whopping.... $0.00000. I guess that means we're poor.

cds I listened to while trying to decide which laws to break: In Slaughter Natives "Enter Now the World", My Dying Bride "Turn Loose the Swans", Lake of Tears "A Crimson Cosmos", Mellow Candle "Swaddling Songs", and Radio Tarifa "Rumba Argelina"

now: Heavenly Voices vol.1 compilation

So, what does a toad look like under a microscope? Imagine a green mountain range, with little black spots on top of each of the mountains, and you've pretty much got it. The things I do at work to keep myself amused...

The damn plumber didn't show up today, so we're still down one toilet and a garbage disposal. The house is clean though. Sort of.

cds I listened to while wondering what my job would look like under a microscope: Sibeba "Hijas Del Sol", In Gowan Ring "The Glinting Spade" and "Compendium 1994-2000", Hijas del Sol "Kotto" (Sibeba under their original name...), In My Rosary "Those Silent Years" and "Under the Mask of Stone", and In Slaughter Natives "s/t"

now: Mychael Danna "The Sweet Hereafter" soundtrack

Last night, the forecasters didn't mention rain, and it rained. Tonight, they predicted rain, and it didn't. Instead, we got a night that was a bit foggy around the edges, but not foggy enough to be really interesting.

We managed to get the house looking pretty good today in preparation for calling the landlord to come fix one of our toilets. I even moved all of the arthropods into our bedroom, since the landlord doesn't know they reside here. Most landlords would be understandably upset upon finding out about a tenant's pet cockroaches. I probably wouldn't even get a chance to explain the difference between my cockroaches and the ones who live under refrigerators and eat questionable things found in the vicinity of the bathroom. I also, in all likelihood, would not get a chance to explain that the large scorpion is not dangerous. That's why they're all back in the bedroom with me.
Outside, the various bulbs are coming up along the walkway. There's even some grass starting to grow in the backyard.

cds I listened to while waiting for the rain that never came: B'eirth's Pscikadilik Psyrkuz II "Further Adventures of Wile and Wilder", Tony Wakeford "La Croix", Kirile Loo "Lullabies for Husbands", Libana "Fire Within", and Elliot Goldenthal "Frida" soundtrack (w/ Lila Downs!)

Now: Montserrat Figueras/La Capella Reial de Catalunya/Jordi Savall "El Cant de la Sibil-la 1"

I got surprised by a sudden rain storm tonight. I don't recall the forcasters mentioning it. Then again, they're wrong most of the time anyway. As I was driving around in the wetness, I passed by the same sign I pass by every night: Stop For Pedestrian. Does this mean, I thought to myself, that I get to choose which one to stop for? If I successfully stop for one pedestrian, am I then supposed to not stop for any subsequent pedestrians? It's a good thing it's the middle of the night and there are never any pedestrians around. Maybe I should just bring along a magic marker or some spray paint and make the damn sign plural.

At the museum today I was playing a selection of cds from around the world, as I usually do when I'm in the Early Childhood Center, when a woman asked, "what is this noise?" I knew from the start that she was going to be negative person. I told her it was throat singing, and explained what it was. It didn't seem to impress her much. She then asked, as if she could stump me, "what is the educational value of this?" I looked her in the eye and, since I could see that she didn't really want information, gave her the one word answer: "multiculturalism". You can't argue with multiculturalism. Especially on Martin Luther King day. She left soon afterwards.
I used to deal with people like this all of the time when I worked in a bookstore. Why don't people just come right out and say they don't like something? I would respect that a lot more than all of this beating around the bush. People used to ask what the music was just so they could complain about it. If you don't like something, why do you care what it is? And why are people so quick to shut down to new kinds of music? Okay, only a few people who come to the museum have a problem with the music - usually people really like it, and even write down the artist(s) so they can go buy the cds. I guess it takes all kinds...

cds I listened to when nobody was around to complain about them: Tarantula Hawk "s/t", Hooo "Veil Static", Kirile Loo "Saatus", Sol Invictus "In Europa" (the second half of this contains live songs from a concert I saw the first time I went to France - so I was actually "In Europa". ha ha), and Mariza "Fado em mim"

now: Montserrat Figueras "The Voice of Emotion"

It's foggy outside.

HEY GEORGE! WHAT WOULD MARTIN DO???

cds I listened to in the fog: Ratos De Porao "Guerra Civil Canibal", L'Orchestre Noir "11", My Dying Bride "As the Flower Withers", and Vladimir Vissotski "Le Vol Arrete"

now: Great Voices of Fado - Vol.2

I stayed up late last night enjoying the fact that this computer is now equipped with speakers, which Jen got me for Christmas. She also got me a cd burner and an Mp3 player, which aren't hooked up yet. This is going to give me all sorts of new ways to obsess over music. Now I get to pop around to various web sights and listen as well as look. I'll try to restrain myself somewhat. I do, after all, have a small bit of music on cd. I even have a few records... and some tapes. I'm just another Luddite pushed out into the glaring light of the future. I hope I don't go blind.

cds I listened to while wishing I had sunglasses: Mary Throwing Stones "Gerta", Puri-do "The Perpetua Reel...", Irr.App.(Ext.) "Their Little Bones, Becoming Sharp, Find Repose but Fail to Avoid Worrying A Breach In the Ghostly Skin the Which Separates that Above From That Below (This Being the Last and Final Seal) and Whereupon All Light Evacuates the Furnace. Several Consequences Ensue", Nurse With Wound/Aranos "Santoor Lena Bicycle", My Dying Bride "Symphonaire Infernus et Spera Empyrium", "The Thrash of Naked Limbs", and "I Am the Bloody Earth", and Inna and the Farlanders "The Dream of Endless Nights" (and endless cd titles...)

now: In Gowan Ring "The Twin Trees"

It is actually starting to feel like january now.

I got my W-2 form from the museum today, and noticed that for some reason the amount of my annual wages deducted for federal income tax was... wait for it... $1.41. Nothing has changed since last year. Has there been some sort of mistake? I've got to change my withholdings anyway, since I'm married now. Of course, if they withhold any less, they'll have to actually give me extra money. I think, also, that this will be the first year where I will have made less than the previous one. I hate taxes. Nobody ever spends the money on the things I want them to spend it on. I hate the thought of any of my money helping fund the current gung-ho bullshit let's-bomb-people-in-other-countries-because-my-daddy-missed-the-head-honcho-when-he-was-president. I keep hearing about troops being sent overseas. How many people will die? and for what exactly? Don't hand me those lines about peace and freedom. I don't believe them. Our freedoms are being compromised, and war doesn't lead to peace. War only leads to more war. Look at all of the other conflicts in the world today. Some of them have been going on for a really long time now. Peace and freedom indeed. More like money and revenge. This governmental nepotism and arrogance is going to kill a lot of people over the next few years - perhaps even more than it has killed already. Okay, rant over. For now.

cds I listened to while wishing I was in charge of spending the government's money: Lauren Hoffman "Megiddo", Ilgi "Speleju Dancoju", Hoelderlin "Live Traumstadt" and "Hoelderlins Traum", and Muzsikas "The Prisoner's Song"

now: Rustavi Choir "Alilo - Ancient Georgian Chorales"

It was cooler tonight, with a waxing moon. It still doesn't feel like january though.

We're determined to get through all of the things on our "to do" list. We've already marked off a few. The yard and the garage still remain in chaos though. The yard is obscured by bits of the local palm trees and a spongy carpet of pine needles, not to mention the two halves of our Christmas tree and pieces of the fence separating our yard from the neighbor's. And of course there are the ever-present toys, which stand out like neon punctuation in the stream-of-consciousness novel of our yard. The garage is worse. It is where, for the past year, we have dumped everything that doesn't fit in the house. It is where two towering bookcases await, and where an immense plexiglass terrarium begs to be filled with toads or tortoises or whatever else we finally decide to populate it with. It is where all of the little red lava rocks (and attendant dirt) reside in torn plastic and paper bags, because we have no idea what to do with them. Maybe we should just put them all back out front. It's just that they looked kind of ugly there. Maybe I'll find an S.U.V. with an unlocked door so I can fill it with rocks and dirt (I have all sorts of evil ideas that I will never actually act upon, but its fun to think about them...). The garage is also where an unstable mountain of cardboard rests, waiting its turn to be recycled. It is where a lot of things will probably remain untouched until we move.

Goodnight.

cds I listened to while putting on an extra jacket: High Tide "Precious Cargo", Robyn Hitchcock "Perspex Island" and "I Often Dream of Trains", Motorhead "Overnight Sensation" and "We Are Motorhead", and Joe Hisaishi "Princess Mononoke - Symphonic Suite"

now: La Reverdie "Bestiarium"

The night was warm again, and overcast. That strange, indefinable smell is still in the air. Maybe it's the winds of change, although it evokes a sense of nostalgia.

I went with Jen and the kids to the chiropractor today. I even let her talk me into giving me a free exam, although I'm not sure when I will ever have time to go back three times a week like she wants me to. I'm of two minds about going anyway. I love the whole concept of natural healing. I've always believed that our minds are primarily responsible for healing. Pharmaceuticals can be risky, and sometimes even worse (just look at what happened to Jen over the holidays...). Why pay others to fix you when your own mind can do the job just as well, or better? That said, I tend to run screaming from anything that smacks of New Age (does that make me a new ageist?). The chiropractor had a fighting fish in her office. Named Zen. I told her that Zen was a strange name for a fighting fish. She said that he was a peaceful warrior. Of course, this is only because he was alone in his bowl. I'm going back for another visit (my back is actually not in the best of shape...) and we'll see how things progress. I haven't made up my mind yet...

Sophie spilled water all over the nice floor in the waiting room.

cds I listened to while being warm in january: Shirley Collins "Within Sound" disc four, Neurosis "Through Silver in Blood", Marta Sebestyen "Kismet", and Howard Shore "Lord of the Rings - The Two Towers" soundtrack

now: Michael Nyman "Prospero's Books" soundtrack

There's a smell in the air - part rain and part something indefinable. It reminds me of when I was young; when the seasons took their time. Jen and I watched a perfect sunset today, without ever noticing the sun. The clouds, some far away and some appearing to be quite close, produced a layered effect that was quite beautiful. They were more yellow than they were orange or red.

We went to a childbirth class on saturday (very early on saturday, I might add) taught by our midwife, Veronika. I think it was the first time I've seen a video of a child being born. Very interesting. I can't wait to participate in the real thing. I hope all goes well.

Matt and I went and saw Rabbit-Proof Fence this weekend, and later Jen and I watched Where the Green Ants Dream. These films would make a great double-feature, as they both cover the same territory, both literally and otherwise. Both deal with the injustices heaped upon Australian Aborigines. The former is based on true story about three half-caste Aborigine girls who run away from a school (whose aim is to strip them of their culture and replace it with that of the "dominant" race) and walk home (a mere 1,200 miles). This bullshit attempt at genocide went on until 1970! The latter focuses more on the complete lack of cultural understanding between Aborigines and the other people who came much later and decided that they wanted to take over and tell everybody else what to do.

cds I listened to while enjoying (for once) the way the air smelled: Neurosis "Enemy of the Sun", High Tide "The Flood" and "A Fierce Nature", Shirley Collins "Within Sound" disc 3, and Motorhead "Sacrifice"

now: "Constellation - Music Until Now" compilation

It rained today/night, and the streets are gleaming. The cloud cover kept the temperatures at an agreeable level.

At the museum, with nothing much to do, I found myself examining my pocket change under a microscope. Old Honest Abe appeared to be under attack from some sort of giant amoeba. He also sported scars from past battles - perhaps from tussling with other common items found in one's pockets (string or nothing?). I think I'm going to start washing my hands more often. I'm appalled at the state of our coins. Then I got to realizing that some of the coins in front of me had been on Earth longer than I have. It makes me think about all of the hands they've passed through, and all of the hands yet to come. There's a story in there somewhere...

cds I listened to while getting slightly wet: High Tide "Sea Shanties/High Tide", Shirley Collins "Within Sound" disc two, Motorhead "Bastards" (...and yet it has a song on it that brings tears to my eyes...), Ratos De Porao "Carniceria Tropical", and Neurosis "Souls at Zero"

now: In Gowan Ring "Hazel Steps through a Weathered Home" (one of 2002's best)

The other day I was playing my mouth harp at the museum when a woman asked me what it was called. I told her that it was a mouth harp, or mouth organ, or a jew's harp, depending on who you asked. I had grown up hearing it referred to as a jew's harp. This perturbed a Hasidic Jewish guy sitting across the room. He said it was a derogatory term, and proceeded to compare it to other similar terms. Being curious, and hoping to learn something new, I asked him if he knew the origin of the term, and why it was considered offensive. He launched into a rather garbled explanation about poor people and gypsies. Apparently it is an instrument that was used by people who couldn't afford anything better. I'm still not clear on why that makes the term offensive, unless you find poor people or gypsies offensive. I do know, however, that to refer to being ripped off as being "gypped" is offensive because it lumps all gypsies together as being dishonest. I found out later, while talking to my coworkers, that this is not common knowledge either. Then again, one of my fellow museum employees thought the Jewish man was Amish.
Today, the husband of the lady who brought us new improved sand (not carcinogenic) for our sand table showed me his chipped tooth - he had cracked it with a mouth harp at the tender age of seven. These darn instruments are all sorts of trouble. ...fun to play though. ...and it's amazing how many people have never seen one.

Tonight was a bit warmer than last night, and there was a slight sprinkling of rain. Jen is feeling better. This makes me happy.

cds I listened to while trying not to offend anybody: Kristin Hersh "A Cleaner Light", "Murder, Misery, and then Goodnight", and "Like You", Ratos De Porao "Descanse Em Paz", Shirley Collins "Within Sound" disc one, Motorhead "1916", High Tide "Interesting Times", and Sol Invictus "In A Garden Green"

now: Michael Nyman "Six Days Six Nights" soundtrack

I wonder if the person who placed the "no stopping any time" sign less than two feet in front of a stoplight had a chuckle. I noticed it today, right around the corner from home, and it struck me as amusing.

Everybody else is asleep right now, which hopefully means that Jen is feeling okay. I think I'll go have a shower now. Goodnight.

cds I listened to while working while you were all asleep: D. Braxton Harris "Deep Dark Black" (I bought this in a record store in Austin and the guy behind the counter did a double take and told me that he hoped I liked it - it turned out he was none other than D. Braxton Harris himself), Kristin Hersh "Strings", Motorhead "Another Perfect Day" and "No Remorse", Bukkene Bruse "The Loveliest Rose", and Loretta Lynch "demo"

now: Michael Nyman "Time Will Pronounce"

I have $26.76 in my pocket. I'm not usually sure how much money I have at any given time, so I checked. I think it's time to start keeping closer tabs on where all of this damn money goes. It should be interesting.

Can obsession be a good thing? Take Wilson Bentley (the subject of "Snowflake Bentley" - the book currently featured at the museum, and the basis for a lot of the projects I will be facilitating during the following months...). At an early age, he became obsessed with snowflakes. It was he who discovered that no two were alike. He spent his life photographing them, and left behind a legacy of beauty and knowledge. In my mind, there is no question that Bentley was obsessed with his work, which seemed trivial to those around him. He died of pneumonia after walking through the snow doing what he loved. Maybe obsession is only a good thing for those on the outside of the equation. Maybe not.

We're having problems getting online at home for the moment, so I'm writing this from work. Jen's still not feeling well. She had a day or so where she felt pretty good, but the nausea keeps coming back. She's visited a chiropractor and gone back to have more blood drawn (part of ongoing monitoring to make sure none of the scary symptoms recur). We took the kids along for the ride, and Sophie delighted in charging up and down the hospital corridors. Much to her delight, I picked her up and ran with her for awhile, hoping that the sight of a running man with a baby under his arm wouldn't get me jumped by security. After all, there are signs in all of the maternity rooms directing new mothers to be careful who they hand off their newborn children to.

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day. Oh well, to work, to work.

The night is relatively warm, and somewhere a little fingernail of moon shines down. I brought Jen home on friday, but she is still nauseous a good part of the time. At least she is home. I think of all of the people who are stuck in the hospital. Some will spend the rest of their lives in one. I wonder what happened to the wife of the man I met outside the emergency room last week. He said she was pregnant and bleeding a lot, in addition to being diabetic. He was also asking for spare change so he could get something to eat. The cynic in me wondered if he had realized that people hanging around emergency rooms were likely to be in a more tender emotional state than people hanging around, say, a McDonald's. Maybe it was a scam. Probably not. At any rate, I gave him ninety-five cents and, after thinking for a moment, a couple of avocados and some pita bread. He seemed really happy about the avocados. I wish him and his wife well. I wish my wife would get well. It's hard to think of other things - they seem trivial somehow - when a loved one is ill.

I took the kids to the museum on saturday, which turned out to be the busiest I've seen the place in ages. I had forgotten about the Three Kings celebration, which is a big hispanic cultural event that draws hundreds of extra visitors to the museum. Sophie fell asleep in the car and I carried her around that way for about a half an hour until she woke up. I managed to not lose any of the kids in the crowds, thanks in part to the fact that we spent about half the time there in the back room hanging out with Lisa, who, along with Lexy, has developed a game called Stuck-to-the-Wall, which involves (you guessed it) getting stuck to the wall. Sophie tromped around and created mayhem. Then we went out and played on the lawn. Sophie loved watching the planes fly over (the museum is right under the flight path for planes landing at San Jose International airport). Nathan got kissed on the cheek by a girl and, predictably enough, hated it. Lexy got upset when the girls He and Nate were playing with didn't want to play 20 questions. Sophie ran around in circles and laughed.

cds I listened to while realizing that 2003 is really just an arbitrary number on a calendar: Marta Sebestyen "Apocrypha", Hagalaz' Runedance "On Wings of Rapture" and "Urd - That Which Was", Ale Moller "The Horse and the Crane", S:t Jacobs Chamber Choir w/Lena Willemark & Bo Hansson "Andetag", and Iva Bittova, Nederlands Blazers Ensemble "Dance of the Vampires"

Now: Marta Sebestyen "Muzsikas"

What good can come out of our experience? Maybe the next time a pregnant woman with similar symptoms ends up at this hospital, the staff will remember us and not be so puzzled. Maybe we'll end up saving a future resident of this planet from arriving before his or her appointed time.

Jen is still in the hospital, feeling queasy. I stopped by twice today - the first time she was asleep in a darkened (for once) room. I watched her sleep for a moment or two and quietly left. I'm glad she is getting some sleep. Speaking of sleep, I'm going to go do just that. It's been a long day.

Were into the second hour of the new year now. The little ones are sleeping restlessly in the next room. Jen is in the hospital, and has been since Christmas morning. I really started to worry on Christmas eve, when she drifted off into delerium while wrapping presents. At this point, she could barely talk because of her sore throat, and was starting to write strange things on the little Christmas labels before sticking them on presents. She insisted that she was all right as I helped her into our bed. She fell asleep immediately, and I kept an eye on her as her brother Jason and I finished wrapping and distributing presents as best we could.

The kids had a great time unwrapping their gifts in the morning. Jen was throwing up again, despite having nothing in her stomach. I took her to the emergency room, leaving the kids in the care of Jason and Cindy, Jen's mother (both of whom have been absolutely invaluable over the last few days). Once there, we were put in a room and seen relatively quickly. They nurses took some blood and ran some tests. We waited. The next thing we knew, a worried looking young doctor was telling us that Jen's platelet count was low and that they might have to induce labor. We were stunned. The baby isn't due to be born until April 15th. Here we were on Christmas day suddenly facing the prospect of forcing our girl out of the womb into a world that she wouldn't be prepared for for another three and a half months. They told us that they suspected Jen had a condition called HELLP syndrome, which is a form of pre eclamcia (sp?). Essentially, Jen's body was thought to be reacting against the pregnancy in a way that would lead to continued depletion of platelets and red blood cells (caused by constriction of her blood vessels), liver damage (possibly leading to rupture, we found out later), kidney damage, elevated blood pressure, and more. A doctor explained to us what to expect in an infant born this prematurely, and although she did her best to stress the positive side, a grim picture was painted. Babies born at 24 weeks have paper thin skulls, and are very susceptible to cranial bleeding. This bleeding can lead to a rather daunting number of physical difficulties, such as cerebal palsy, blindness, deafness, to mention a few
We ended up in another room, and they actually started the induction. Jen started having regular contractions, which she couldn't feel because of the muscle relaxants she was on. I called Veronika, our midwife, and she showed up about a half an hour later. The wait began. I called Jason and asked if he could bring a camera, which he did at about one in the morning. As horrible as things were, we still wanted to get pictures of the birth. The contractions continued. I fell asleep on the floor under some blankets. Veronika fell asleep in a chair. Nurses continued to extract blood at regular intervals to get new readings.
At some point, Jen summed it up very poignantly. Referring to our baby, she said, "she's so little. So perfect. So oblivious." Our baby, Harper, was on the verge of being introduced to an uncertain fate. She would undoubtedly have special needs. She would spend the first several months (at least) of her life in an incubator, assuming she survived at all. It felt like we were betraying her. It sounded like we had no choice. The only way to cure HELLP is to induce labor. Once the baby is born, the problem is solved. If the syndrome goes unchecked, it will kill the mother. A nurse told us that the only woman who had ever died in childbirth at this hospital had had HELLP. Her liver had ruptured.
Then the news came that subsequent blood tests showed platelet counts rising, and liver function improving slightly. This puzzled the doctors. HELLP doesn't get better without delivery. Doctors started conferring with each other. Second opinions were sought. I believe there may have been some arguments. Finally, a doctor, like an angel of mercy, came into the room and informed us that they were stopping the induction. We both wept with relief.
Over the following days, as Jen continued to improve, Cindy organized work shifts so that the other kids would be watched. She stayed overnight so I could stay with Jen, and so I could work. The kids are holding up surprisingly well, and I am learning first hand what Jen's day to day life is like (getting the kids to bed, comforting them in the night, and getting them up in the morning... oops, I mean them getting me up in the morning). I don't normally do this because of my strange work schedule. Cindy has been sleeping on the couch on the nights that I work, and Jason and Jen's half-sister Ashley have been helping out with morning duties, as has Karen. Karen, her husband Chris, and their daughters were here on friday (?) and then again on (minus Chris) monday.
It now looks like all of this mess has been caused by a reaction to the over the counter pain medication Aleve. They're keeping her in the hospital until everything is completely back to normal. Currently all of the counts are good, but she has a headache and a queasy stomach. We hope she comes home soon.

More to follow...