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Tuesday, September 25, 2007

First Week of Fall - Finally


First, be it known that Barritt has experienced several developments this past little bit. Most obviously, he has experienced his quarterly hair cut, a traumatic experience endured only through watching Baby Einstein whilst eating M&Ms and raisins. We tried to shave the hair with electric clippers, but Barritt was never convinced that dad’s “Hair Machine” has his best interest in mind.

From the picture, Barritt is clearly pointing out one of the haircut’s faults; namely, the bangs are a bit short.

But dedicated blog viewers will note that Mr. B is sporting some new underclothes. Yes, Barritt is moving into the world of what he calls “Thunderpants.” Dad tried to take a firm boxers only stance, but B, having just seen Risky Business and Talladega Nights, was convinced that petit tighty whities were the right first step.


Below we highlight the family’s first encounter with crowder peas, bought last Saturday at the Watkinsville farmers market. Dad, thoroughly versed in generations of the old foodways available in this part of Georgia, takes pride in the fact that he spent nigh an hour Saturday afternoon shelling said crowder peas, thinking that it located him squarely in the centuries-old tradition of pea shelling, giving him, as it were, communion with pea-shelling saints of old. Ironically however, Dad also spent that entire hour simultaneously watching Bravo, a cable channel that prides itself on being at most 15 minutes behind the latest fashion, food, or sexual trends. More irony is found in that Dad watched a Bravo show called “The Hundred Greatest TV Characters of All Time,” and was, as usual, frustrated that Lucille Ball placed so high just because she was a forerunner.













Dad was also miffed that James Garner as Jim Rockford barely broke the top twenty.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Can you feel the magic?


Barritt has a new love. And it isn't Annabelle, per se. It is the act of kissing. Kissing for boo boos, kissing for good night, and then your regular, middle of the day kisses. You never really know when he might lay one on you. And you never really know if the kiss will be open mouth either, like they do in France or the north Georgia mountains. Or if it will be accompanied by the runoff of one or two seeping nostrils. I guess we count our blessings, knowing that we will be longing for the days of being coated with mucus and saliva when Barritt gets to be 'too big' for any smooches at all.