Since the little guy has fallen asleep, I'll take this opportunity to fill you in on what we've been doing. It is, in some ways, hard to believe that anyone would really be interested, but I know I'm getting some traffic, and I love you for that, so, here you go.
You've noticed I haven't been blogging much in the last couple of weeks, which is largely due to my all-over-the-place schedule with little Matty, but also because I'm working on a few personal projects. I'd love to write about them here, were it not for the fact that most of the people in my family read this, and I'm hoping to surprise them at Christmas. The truth is, I feel this tremendous creative urge, but right now, there aren't enough hours in the day. Anyway, we'll see what I'm able to get done in time for Christmas, and again, I'll be sure to provide an update, because it's wrong to say, "I'm working on other stuff, but I can't tell you about it." I will. I always do.
Life in Trenton continues to be interesting, of course. Am wondering how things are going for the city's administration with the transition in the BA's office. I was simultaneously thrilled and bummed to see Jane Feigenbaum's picture online; I've wanted a digital image of her for a long time now, because I had always hoped to base one of my Sunday Funnies on her. But now, since she's our former Business Administrator, there's not much point in lampooning her. But I snagged that photo anyway (thanks, Trentonian), in the off-chance there's an opportunity, and time, in the future. I wonder how her house in Mill Hill will look now that she doesn't have to pretend to live there?
I've been wanting to just walk around more, for me, mostly. But also for the baby, so he can start to see some of his world, before all the leaves are gone; and also for Steve, who spends many, many hours of his day tormenting cats, pulling Glen's socks out of the hamper, running the circuit around the house, without — I think — actually ever touching the floor, and on occasion, bleeding, from his run-ins with one of the cats. Nothing brings Stevie down. Not even blood. I'm thinking the walking might help wear him out just a wee bit, so he'll spend less time bleeding later in the day.
It's been hard to get out, though, mostly because Matthew is kind of fussy, and I'm not sure how I feel about walking around the hood with a screaming baby, and an insane little dog, on my own. But Glen and I did some walking this weekend, and it was good. I've felt totally disconnected from the wackiness around here. I've got a couple of good pictures — and perhaps advertising for some local businesses — to share from our excursions.
I've always loved the names of the hair salons and barber shops in Trenton. A couple of my favorites were Larry's Way of Hair, and the Hairport; now, many of those establishments are gone, but I'm glad to see that the new ones are keeping up with the creative naming practices of their predecessors.
I wish I had zoomed out on this picture, because the Contractors of God left an unholy mess at this construction site, or at least it would look that way. There is a whole lot of litter around this property, and call me stupid, but I'd figure someone who'd hire a Contractor of God might have some more pride in His beautiful green earth, but what do I know?
I've been itching to do more cooking, since fall inspires more complicated and rich foods, but again, there hasn't been that much time. I've been doing my best to make some soups here and there, and today, I'm making an asparagus soup, since we have an abundance of asparagus. I'll let you know how that works out. Glen and I, in the meantime, have been enjoying a lot of great food my sisters cooked for us, in preparation of Matthew's arrival. Oh, and eating a lot of frozen pizza too. I don't really care what anyone says, frozen pizza is awesome. Awesome in a different way than DeLorenzo's, for instance, but still awesome.
Matthew received 5 little Halloween outfits, and I had no idea what to do about that, since — I hate to admit this — I don't much like to dress him, even on regular days. He doesn't seem to like clothing much, either: he gets really hot and cranky, easily. Plus, his little fingers and toes are hard to pull through the sleeves and pant legs, and that scares me. I never liked playing with dolls as a kid, either. But the outfits were just too cute, and he won't fit into them next year, so we had a little photo shoot, and Matthew modeled each piece, and really – I'm so proud of him! — kept his spirits up the whole time. If you'd like to see more of the photos, send me an email, and I'll send you the link.
Speaking of baby butt, I ordered some handmade cloth diapers for Matty from Etsy.com. I am scared, but all diapers are yucky, and a couple of things pulled me toward cloth again: Matthew just doesn't poop that much, at least not yet. And when he does, it's no worse than Steve turd, and certainly way, way better than cat shit. So, I ordered enough for one day, and figured I'll give it a try at least one day a week. This is kind of a hot topic, so I am irritated with myself for being on the fence about this. I wish I could either just say, "okay, I'm using disposables, and that's all there is to it," or, "I'm concerned about the environment, and the number of icky old diapers I'm gathering out of the diaper genie every few days, so I'm using cloth, so get off my back." But I'm somewhere in between, and cannot commit on this, and hate being so wishy-washy. I am just happy my boy's plumbing works just fine. The diapers are made to order, and have not arrived yet. If this experiment is interesting to anyone else who reads this, I'll be sure to report back.
Lastly, there's been a lot of hockey lately. A lot of it. Glen has been telling people that Matthew is all set for the 2026 NHL entry draft, and a first round pick, at that. Glen is a Buffalo Sabres fan, so he hopes Matthew we be able to join that team. In one of our fairly typical, pointless "what if" conversations, I asked Glen to pick a local team he'd like to see Matthew on, if he couldn't be a Sabre, and everyone around here wanted him. Glen was not happy about this potential development, as a Sabre fan, and a huge hockey fan, and a Canadian, and just as stubborn Glen. There is no "second best" for Glen, but even if there were, it would probably not be a local hockey club, I'm sorry to report.
But he knows how the "what if" game works: there are no other options, if he wants me to ever stop asking. So, if all the local clubs wanted Matthew in 2026, Glen could live with the New York Rangers drafting him.
The "what if" game never ends there. It pushes further. If Buffalo couldn't have Matthew, or any of the other teams in the league, except for the local organizations, except for the Rangers, who's next? The answer surprised me, and it might surprise everyone else too, since Glen worked in Philadelphia for a number of years, and its small town personality turned him off, and the sports fans are horrifically behaved (the fans sometimes doberman their own team, for crying out loud). Glen would be okay if Matthew became a Broad Street Bully. Hm.
Glen thought the conversation was over – Sabres hockey was on TV, after all — but I made Glen choose between the Devils and the Islanders for Matty's future. With Rick Jeanneret's fantastically colorful and passionate announcing filling our ears (Jeanneret does rock; even if you don't like hockey or the Sabres, click on his name, above, to hear some of his greatest calls), Glen's face turned sour; I felt badly for ruining a Jeanneret moment, but hey, that's why we pay the big bucks for DVR. Glen gave this unlikely and unsavory scenario some thought, and it caused him some paralyzing dismay. Glen's third choice pick for his son's hockey career, in a terribly disappointing future, would be the New Jersey Devils. I've never been any kind of sports fan, really, but I suppose I have sympathies. My sister, Karen, and her son, Eric are HUGE Devils fans. And, I am state-o-centric, and New Jersey is poorly underrepresented in professional sports, at least in name, and so, I feel a sense of loyalty to the Devils, and I'd be proud if my son played for them. Plus, my favorite sports memory involves the Devils, during the 1994 Stanley Cup series (with the Rangers). I wasn't watching the game, but I heard an eruption of ecstatic cheering when the Devils won one of the games (though they went on to lose the series). Apparently, everyone at the complex I was living in at the time, was watching the game, and everyone was a Devils fan. And to be caught up — even as an outsider — in that throng of pure human glee, still gives me the warm fuzzies when I think about it.
But Glen said, "The Devils run their organization like a concentration camp, so I don't want Matty to play for them, but...."
...and, if you're not already pissed off, you probably will be...
"...the Islanders," [insert a series of expletives and a lot of disgust], "that's where you go to retire, after a really shitty career."
So, that's the detailed status update. Thanks for checking in.