In memory of Willow

This is a belated post in memory of Willow, our ancestral cat. We got Willow a day or two after the death of Mom's last cat, Jasper, from my sister's friend two doors down. They had a giant willow tree in their front yard and that's how Willow got her name. That was about 1990.

I was the one who got to bring Willow home for the first time, just a bit before the earlier picture was taken. She would chase us up and down the stairs, clawing and biting (adorably) at our heels. At night as a kitten she would hunker down on my toes, quivering in anticipation until I made the slightest movement under the blanket for her to pounce at, her little claws barely piercing the comforter. After she got tired she would come under the blankets and curl up behind my knees to sleep. Getting older and grumpier she learned advanced techniques in nighttime single claw nose poking and high pitched breakfast meows, but we forgive her.

In the garden she was an expert hunter of birds, mice, and moles. When she saw a bird she couldn't catch she would make chirping sounds and try to look feathery. At the cabin she decimated the chipmunk population and climbed 30 feet into the pine trees. She learned to climb vertical wooden ladders into the loft using a technique like an arborist with a climbing belt and spurs.

I lobbied against getting Bhu because I thought he would upset her, but eventually I think they got along. I think the tipping point was when she talked him into jumping on the table and knocking the pork loin onto the floor. He was scared by the shattering platter and clattering silverware and slunk off while she feasted.

After Catie and I moved out Mom and Dad convinced us for about 5 minutes that they had given the dog and cat our places at the dinner table. It seemed disturbingly plausible.

She slowed down a lot in the last few years, but thanks to unlimited food and careful attention from Mom and Dad she managed to keep getting up and down the stairs, up and down from the bed, and out into the garden right up to the end.

She was nearly 20 years old. She outlived the tree she was named after.

My sympathies

The other day I had to pee a lot for some reason. Ashley joked that it was sympathy bladder.

Today we got a watermelon for dinner so we decided to pose together. I think mine is bigger: I almost lost a button off my shirt.



Ashley's Mom's reaction was priceless.

Wanna come hang at my crib?

Here's an update on the baby prep.


We've been registering for baby stuff the last few days (registry links coming). Today we went to Baby Land to check out some of the Big Stuff. This is a great local store that has been there forever. Ashley's mom got baby stuff there, and her mom probably went there too. We got some good suggestions from the saleswoman, a recent mother herself, and were able to pick out some stuff we really like. Ashley's mom and Auntie came along too, and couldn't wait for the shower to purchase some gifts for the baby, including the crib.

This picture also shows off the minty fresh paint Ashley and her dad put up (thanks to Vince for the Sherman Williams discount), and the new carpeting.

I hope this is the grossest picture I ever post on the internet.

Steve Prefontaine said "Somebody may beat me, but they are going to have to bleed to do it."

I don't think this is what he meant:

(scroll down because I don't know how to make a jump)

Everyone seems to be running these days, and last Saturday I felt pretty good, so I decided to see the absolute farthest I could go (about nine miles out, then I limped home). Between the cramps and thigh chafing I didn't realize extent of these particular abrasions until the hot water hit me in the shower the next morning.

30 Weeks

By popular demand:



Ashley and the baby got an A+ on the latest checkup for weight, belly size, blood pressure, glucose, iron, and baby activity. The heartbeat has changed in character with a distinctive thump to go along with all the whooshing.