day eighty

Dad came back home from his trip yesterday. He was shocked when he saw me for the first time in 7 days. He tried not to stare, but it was inevitable, just like when he couldn't stop watching the two midgets throwing rocks at each other at the beach in Gloucester, MA last week. That's another story though. Anyway, he was staring at me because I seemingly went bald in the week he was gone. I mean, I don't look like Kojak or Moby; it's not slick, it's just thinning.

At any rate, I had trouble sleeping through the night whilst I was in NC and VA this past week, but things were good back in GA last night. Seven hours. I get to have some pretty deep dreams when I sleep that long. Last night I had the dream where I was naked in public. The thing is though that while you may think that is a nightmare, it couldn't be more normal for me.

day seventy

Going to be away from the blog for a while, and wanted to leave you with a vision of the epiphanic baby that I am. Evidently my glory hath increased since I started sleeping through the night.

Here I am taking a nap in my favorite spot. When I first started sleeping here it wasn't such a cozy fit. 

Day sixtyeight - the beach pictures are in

We all know skateboarding is not a crime, but apparantly biking is, at least on Kiawah Island. Nevertheless, dad and I managed to get some furtive trips around Bufflehead Road whilst we were there, careful to avoid the Kiawah Kops. We usually wore helmets, but the day was just too nice to miss out on the rays.

going for my first tan

After a long day at the beach, a pound of shrimp, and a couple of gin and tonics, I like to recline on Uncle P

This is basically where I go when I'm fussy/grumpy. Dad becomes the over the shoulder baby holder. This was on vaca, hence the palm trees and shirtlessness.

day sixtyone

It's my two month birthday today, though I still go in weeks. Went downtown to see the nice lady doctor who is somewhere between my age and my mom's. They stuck some needles in me, but it went OK. I made sure I got the Dip-Tet so that I don't get the lockjaw night vision.

I made 50-75th percentile on weight and 25-50th on height. Just like dad's LSAT scores.

I am seriously lacking creativity here at the end of a day where I got 4 shots and then went to the heart of darkness, otherwise known as Buckhead and its Lenox Mall. Then I rode around Hotlanta for a while in a black car. I'm beat. More pictures and witticisms on another day . . .

day sixty

enough about farming, and more about me. this is me ignoring Simon and Garfunkel's advice not to be coy, Roy.

 

Noah Miller's blog debut

I really couldn't resist putting this picture up. It reminds me a lot of the pictures that used to be in the Dairy Queen my dad used to frequent too often in high school, the consequences of which he is still fighting every time he rides his bike. They were these 11x14's of two 3 year olds dressed as farmers standing in the fields with captions like "Been farming long?" Anyway, this is Noah Miller, of the Drew and Peyton Millers. Handsome guy. Out there on the tractor in the Shenandoah Valley he won't have to grow up in the harsh social climes of Richmond like his momma, and he won't have to get a high school job at Abercrombie and Fitch like his daddy did just to make ends meet in Nova. He'll just daily get up with the sun and enjoy splitting the earth, listening to the subtle sounds of the resultant steam as his manure spreader pierces Harrisonburg's frosted soil.

And carrying on the tradition I began with the Smithcore, here is a nice local color piece about Noah's Dad Drew, a man destined for greatness if only because he shares my dad's birthday.

http://www.dnronline.com/sports-story4.asp

day fiftyfour - Billconn Arrives

I no longer have to sing 'Come thou long awaited cousin.' William Connor Barritt showed up at 14:13 Greenwich Mean Time on June 1. He's already proved himself to be tenacious, and it's going to be smooth sailing from now on. If we look similar, it's because we have 25% of the same genes, according to some work done by Gregor Mendel. His mom is doing well and dad is fired up. The dogs haven't seen him yet. But wait a minute, what's up with all the Barritt grandkids going by their middle names?