Life is good

I got to meet Sam Brody yesterday, but I forgot to inquire as to why that particular name. He's tiny and wriggly and has very active toes. The Sexy Blonde looks amazing and you'd never guess she gave birth less than a week ago! And J amused us mightily with all sorts of delivery room horror stories. (Or was the "horror" part just me? I'm never sure.)

I carpooled to work today! After putting my name up on the MTC and workplace rideboards years ago (and a few nibbles that fell through), I finally have someone to carpool with. It means I have to get up an hour earlier since this shifts my schedule half an hour earlier and we're a one-bathroom house, but it also means reaching an environmental goal I've been unable to hit for a long time.

The guy I'm carpooling with seems nice enough. Puck was right: the Mama B small-talk gene kicked in right away. We chatted the whole drive in this morning, so I now know the names of his wife and kids, how long he's been married, how he met his wife, where he grew up, where he went to school and what he got his degree in, his religion, how long he was in the Army and how long he was in the Reserves, his views on personal responsibility, how he likes to spend his vacations and at least some of his hobbies. I expect to be out of conversation topics by Thursday.

Puck & I went up to the lake over the weekend, and it was sublime. Too cool for swimming, but perfect for bike rides and walking through the woods and eating outside. Had a couple lovely trips out in the canoe, though it was a bit windy the first time, which meant I actually had to work a little. A big snapping turtle swam underwater right next to the canoe, and that was really cool to see. They're so prehistoric looking. And the garden up there looks great! I took pictures that I'll post later.

Speaking of gardens, I've commited a cardinal gardening sin. I'm pruning the lilac in the front yard to try to keep it small and bush-shaped instead of 20 feet tall with blooms only up at the top where I can't stick my face in them as I'm mowing around it. The Internet tells me that the way to accomplish this is to take out 1/3 of the oldest canes at the ground each year for three years. So Friday I went in and hacked out a couple big old canes, and then stepped back, and freaked out. It looks awful! It's got big holes in it! It looks diseased, ugly, lopsided, mangy! And that's when I sinned: I panicked and quit. I couldn't make myself pick up the lopper and get back in there. Temp, I think I need your dad to kick some sense into me, though he'd probably just wonder why the hell I was pruning a lilac in the first place. I can't stop thinking, "I've made a horrible mistake, and I'm only going to make it worse." Eep.