juliloquy

This post has been brought to you by my inner 7th grade boy.

I feel compelled to clarify that the aforementioned donuts were from Sir Dunkin'. Nothing against the bounty of Fam. Kreme, I'm just sayin'. I was surprised at Dunkin's spelling of Boston Kreme, but I got it from the horse's mouth the donut's hole.

I also feel compelled to tell you that if I were to design a rad line of swim trunks, I would call them Dunkin' Gonads.

That is all.

Breakfast of Champions

I am a big fan of the donut. I don't indulge very often, so they always seem like a treat.

If you ask HPR, he'll tell you that I indulged in them rather frequently during my pregnancy with Shmoo. He likes to joke that all we could see at the 20-week ultrasound was a donut topped with ice cream. Astute readers know that the almighty donut/coffee combo was allegedly what got labor going that morning in November 2004.

So it seems only natural that my son would take after me:

Boston Kreme, shnum!

HPR brought a half-dozen donuts home a few weeks ago. For breakfast, I let Shmoo choose. I was going to cut it in half for him, but I figured he'd eat some, then abandon it as he does with most meals. About this, I couldn't have been more wrong.

Shmoo ate about 2/3 of it sitting at the table. He seemed to be slowing down, so I asked if he was finished. He said "I wanna go play . . . with the donut." I helped him down from his booster chair. He headed toward the living room and I followed with his plate. I said "how about putting the donut back on the plate while you play?" "OK," he responded, and did so.

After about 20 seconds, he said "I'm all done playing" and came back for the donut. I got him dressed in between his bites; he cautiously put the donut down while I helped his arms into shirt sleeves.

I went to the kitchen to grab Shmoo's lunchbox and packed it in HPR's bag for their trolley commute. Shmoo was still working away at the donut. His bites got slower and slower, but no way was he going to relinquish that donut. When he had about 1/5 left, I told him he could wait and finish it on the trolley if he wanted.

It was almost painful to watch. I could tell he was full, but he just couldn't give it up. By the time HPR came downstairs, Shmoo had finished the donut and looked like a dog who had wolfed down an entire holiday cheese log.

Since it was a daycare day, we don't know what repercussions the donut may have had, but as for Shmoo, he was ready to get back in the saddle again: He asked for donuts for breakfast the next morning.

Handsome Multitalented Ranger

Not only is HPR nice to look at, but he talks pretty, too. And he can play obscure musical instruments, and play them well.

If you'd like to hear for yourself, go on over to this link. There, click on the words "Chester, Mozart, or Misty."

Isn't he dreamy?

(Image from here.)

Jury duty and Shmoo duty update

Jury duty was a bust. I never left the first jury selection room. I was in the last group called; by then it was 11:15. At 11:30 they excused us for lunch until 1:15. At 1:40, they told us that they were going to wait until tomorrow for that last case, so they would choose jurors from tomorrow's crop. We collected our $9 checks and filed out. Some highlights:

• I got a lot of manuscript work done. (Between preemptive pee breaks. I would blame this on pregnancy, but unfortunately it's par for the course for me.)
• A fellow juror smiled at me at the security line, and later in the selection room. Made me wonder if she's just a friendly person or if she's seen my blog. I don't have that many readers, but a few people have surprised me by telling me they read my blog.
• I am grateful that they make us check cell phones before we enter the gathering room. Imagine overhearing 200 half-conversations in close quarters. Plus all those annoying ring tones.
• Breakfast choices were banana bread, apple cinnamon cake and—I love it when we go with the stereotypes—soft pretzels.
• Question #2 on the form is "Do you have any religious, moral or ethical beliefs that would prevent you from sitting in judgment in a criminal case and rendering a fair verdict?" How should I answer that? If I believe the death penalty is unfair (which I do), then deciding not to sentence with the death penalty in a criminal case would, to me, be a fair verdict.
• While I'm on the topic, here is a great quote about the death penalty:

  “My main objection to the death penalty isn’t about trying to save anybody on death row. It’s about, ‘If this is a democracy and the government kills somebody, then I’m killing somebody.’ I object to the damage that it does to my spirit.”
  STEVE EARLE, singer/songwriter, The Progressive (Feb. 2003)

• The welcoming judge, in her brief speech thanking us for doing this important civic duty and showing up despite the bad weather, said, "since it's Valentine's Day, I'll also tell you that in my time here I've seen a couple of romances bloom among jurors." At that, a guy behind me said "bet their spouses didn't appreciate that!"

• During my Reading Terminal lunch, I recalled a conversation with one of our Southern California publisher's marketing reps when she was in Philly for a conference.

her: So, the Amish people at Reading Terminal are, like, really Amish?

me: Um, yeah . . . [?]

her: They're not just people dressed up to look Amish?

me: You could always try tugging on their beards and saying "C'mon, it's fake! Gotcha!"

_____

Shmooie's daycare was closed, so the boys had a snow day. When I got home I was greeted with tales of shoveling the walk, coming in for hot cocoa, braving the one-block walk to the punk coffee house to buy beans and spend Shmoo's pocket money (HPR's aunt and uncle sent Shmoo $1 in a Valentine card; Shmoo chose 2 cookies), and many indoor hijinks.

Shmooie took a nap in his big-boy bed for the second time, without incident, so we put him to bed there last night (first time trying it at night). He slept well. In fact, he woke up a good half hour later than normal. I'm not going to be careless enough to do a parenting victory dance, but this bodes well.

part I of my walk to work in West Philadelphia

A week ago Friday I took photos of my walk to work. Here, for your pleasure, are some West Philly highlights. (As always, click to enlarge.) The walk takes about a half an hour.

We start a block from our house. Someone started work on this house about a year ago, but progress has slowed. Note the pigeons in the bay window. Kitty-corner from that place is the (former) Firehouse. We were sad to see the Farmers' Market go in November 2005, but Dock Street Microbrewery and brick-oven pizza are coming in the spring. The Firehouse also holds a punk coffee shop (we buy beans there even though we're lacking sufficient piercings and tattoos) a punk bicycle shop (they take good care of our bikes despite our lack of sufficient piercings and tattoos), and Philly CarShare headquarters.

 

 

Continuing down the block, we see more examples of scruffy meets gentrification. The most disorganized thrift shop I have ever seen, with a sparkly new yoga studio a few doors down. Also, great business names: The Peking Inn and The New 3rd World Lounge. I also caught a shot of Shmooie's beloved 34 trolley and the space where a new Wine & Spirits Shop is under construction. I am not a fan of Pennsylvania's wacky alcohol laws, but the new state store will be a big improvement over the current one, where you have to request your hooch from an employee at the counter.

The relaxing "& Spa." The Beulah Tabernacle used to be a bank. When HPR and I lived in Bulgaria, we started to joke about Beulah ND as a tourist destination (sorry, Beulah residents). We went further, laughing that if we ever had a girl, we'd name her Beulah. As we continued to associate the name with our prospective offspring, it started sounding so sweet. Long story short, when we were looking for homes in West Philadelphia, we considered this place a harbinger of welcome.

Speaking of repurposing buildings, next we have the urban version of the suburban megachurch. Calvary Center, originally a Methodist church now houses at least 5 congregations, plus several community groups.

Characteristic Philadelphia row houses; a favorite restaurant and the A-Space just beyond, where I have volunteered with Books through Bars (despite the aforementioned lack of sufficient tattoos and piercings).

We then come to a couple of blocks of East- and West-African businesses. I love how I can usually hear Arabic or West-African French on my walks home.

People waiting for the trolley. I took the next photo because HPR really likes these trees, which are in the yard of the place where we pick up our CSA order June-November.

I have to break this up into two posts; the layout is getting all screwy.

part II of my walk to work in West Philadelphia

This is the second part. Sorry about the formatting; I give up! Photos pasted in are not enlargeable.

The Best House Pizzeria used to be called The Wurst House, which was such a better name. HPR and I still refer to it as "Gross Pizza" because when we first moved to the neighborhood (and it was still The Wurst House), on the spot, HPR couldn't remember the name. The pizza isn't gross, but it's nothing special.

The second photo is Clark Park, (aka the dog park). I usually turn north on this corner (43rd) and zigzag the rest of the way to work. This street used to be Mill Creek, navigable from the Schuylkill River. Satterlee, the largest Civil War Hospital covered this entire neighborhood. (The information on that link is astounding to me every time I see it.) This intersection often floods during downpours, delaying the trolleys.

A block up is Osage Avenue, twenty blocks away from the infamous MOVE bombing. I have watched  new construction and gutting and condo-izing of the end row house on this part of Osage for the past couple of years. Next, more typical Philadelphia row houses.
 

Another example of the blending of cultures. Ethiopian and Chinese services at the same Church, awesome!

Our realtors (brother and sister team, both married with two young kids apiece) bought this ginormous Pine Street house—a complex, really—and are fixing it up. Another block up and around the corner, dorm towers are visible from 40th Street.

This is my dentist's office (just a block from work). My dentist is Iraqi-American and my hygienist is Chinese-American. both are women, efficient, and personable. I get a bit weepy when I think of how seamlessly they work, when both are communicating in a language other than their original tongue.

The fruit vendor across from the dental office has been gone for a couple of months.

They demolished this block on Walnut Street in just a week. It was a strip mall, and the University is building graduate student housing on the block. My building was originally a mansion built with the Fels-Naptha soap fortune. My office window is the middle gable on the third floor (third from left or right). Also the front doorway.

I meant to take a picture of the fantastic window on the second floor. Instead, here is the coffee machine among lovely antique tile. And the final destination: my messy office. Hope nesting hits sometime soon!

 

jubilation, incubation

So here is the scoop. HPR took the previous post's photo on January 21. We told family right away;  we're too excited to keep it a secret from everyone else any longer.

I was relieved to discover there was a reason behind my

• Absentmindedness
• Irritability
• Bizarre Dreams
• Extreme Lethargy and
• Noxious Farts of Death (seriously, they ought to make these in maternity size).

No real morning sickness (knocking on wood) and my appetite's good. I haven't gained any weight, but things seem to be shifting around a bit. Just now HPR commented that my booty was getting "a bit more hefty." (Let's make that a fourth thing never to say to your wife.)

Shmooie remains on the fence about it all, but, when asked, he put in a tepid request for a girl baby. We told him we'd see what we can do. We hope to find out boy/girl when we're able and will keep you posted.

It says “pregnant.”

It says "pregnant.", originally uploaded by juliloquy.

Estimated due date: September 27 October 4. We are elated! More to come.