With all of the stuff I’ve been up to late­ly, do­ing a bit of writ­ing has fall­en by the way­side. Work on the house is still in­com­plete, but has slowed down be­cause what re­mains isn’t crit­i­cal quite yet. Once all of the paint­ing is com­plete, and I’ve man­aged to get all of the doors re­hung, there will be pic­tures.

I’ve gone to see The Dark Knight, which was the first time since Abraham graced us with his pres­ence that Debbie and I man­aged to get out alone. I went to the zoo, where the boy and I be­came an ex­hib­it to all of the women around when Debbie went to the re­stroom. I went to Whiskey Island on Friday af­ter­noon for a pic­nic, took a walk by my­self to get some alone time with na­ture, watched swal­low bug-catch­ing, a swal­low-heck­ling ori­ole, and played with a ground­hog for a lit­tle while.

Last Monday my of­fice was one of the three County of­fices raid­ed by the FBI and IRS-CID as a part of their in­ves­ti­ga­tion in­to cor­rup­tion by County of­fi­cials. Apparently they came over the in­ter­com and told folks to go to the can­teen [which is what every­where else is called a lunch room]. The de­sign room keeps the over­head speak­er turned off be­cause we’d rather not lis­ten to the best in soft rock from the 80s, 90s and now, so I didn’t hear the an­nounce­ment. I hap­pened to be both on my com­put­er and on the phone, both no-nos, when the FBI knocked on the door. I’d al­ready man­aged to tell Debbie every­thing she need­ed to know to get the scan­ner at home work­ing though, so it was no big deal.

I went to the can­teen, where every­one else was, and filled out a sheet that asked for ba­sic in­for­ma­tion and job du­ties, and then got to take the rest of the day off.

Abraham's TreeWhen my mom rolled up here for the 4th of July, we plant­ed a tree for Abraham. I had a tree plant­ed for me when I was born as well. I even wrote about it for Young Authors, so you can read that here. Although that pic­ture is from a month ago, Abraham is al­ready much big­ger, I’d say near 12 pounds. He’s start­ed smil­ing and chuck­ling a lit­tle, and I can ac­tu­al­ly sort of play with him now. The on­ly rough part is that when I’m at work he’s in his best mood, so when I come home I get to in­ter­act with him for the part of the day when he’s at his worst. It gets frus­trat­ing at times.

I got sea­son tick­ets to the Notre Dame foot­ball games this year, blessed be my mono­gram. I don’t know that I’ll be able to get to more than one of them, how­ev­er.

The weath­er has been won­der­ful, and to­day looks as if it will con­tin­ue that pat­tern. Dinner is a dai­ly choice be­tween eat­ing on the porch or watch­ing some old school Muppet Show episodes. I re­cent­ly dis­cov­ered that I can get Mr. Wizard on DVD as well. Abraham’s go­ing to talk to folks at school about these crazy shows that aren’t on TV any­more and no-one is go­ing to know what he’s talk­ing about ex­cept his teach­ers.

I haven’t been to a rock and roll show in for­ev­er. It hurts.

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