It's that time of year again...

In our little family, the first weekend after Halloween is Tree Raising Weekend!

I'm not much for the commercial celebration of Christmas, but I sure love the feeling I get, surrounded by soft lights and greenery and... plaid tree skilts.

(Did I just coin a new word??)

I didn't used to feel that way. I used to dread the winter holidays. Some of my more dominant memories were always of people bickering and fighting about having too many or not enough ornaments on the tree and lots of hustle and bustle and parties where I had to behave properly (or, better yet, not be seen).

When I was still dating my wife, the topic came up as we were decorating her mom's Christmas tree.  Or, rather, as THEY were decorating the tree and I was sitting in the other room not having a terribly good time. That day I realized something - that I had to make my own positive Christmas memories, that I've changed a lot over the years and it doesn't have to be a holiday I hate!

So, the year we moved into our new house, we decided to start a new tradition and get into the holiday season a little earlier than most.  We always make a small party of it - invite a few close friends over to a good meal, good beer, Christmas music (this year's first album was Rob Crabtree's A Piper Christmas, which is a repeat from last year... it's a great album!) and then we went to something a little more hands-off, using Pandora to (mostly) play a good variety of holiday tunes.  (I say "mostly" because Pandora and I have been known to fight about what is deemed "good" music.)

We've minimized the dangers to Finley a bit by only using non-breakable ornaments. We try to stick to wooden ones, when we can find them, but also use cloth, pressed tin, and pine cone ornaments, as well.  He seems to be drawn to the simple ones, like little sleigh bells on a cord. He certainly had a blast last night.  I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the tree stays up all season without any major mishaps...

While the tree is the main decoration, it isn't the first. The first decoration I always put up is a lighted wreath out on the front porch.  I love seeing how long it takes my neighbor across the street to get a wreath up on his front door, too. I imagine the discussion with his wife to be something like, "Well THEY already have decorations up... why don't we??" "Alright, I'll get started on them this weekend... *mumble mumble* damned neighbor and his Christmas spirit *mumble mumble*"

(It's usually about two weeks.)

As per her usual, Baby Teeters took position under the tree before we even had it totally put together.  This time of the year, if the tree lights are on, you will find her sleeping under it.  She does look lovely under there, I must say.  She tends to leave the presents alone, as long as I leave a spot for her to sleep, but I have had to re-wrap a few over the years.

Let me be the first to wish you a very Merry Christmas and happy holidays!  I hope the season brings you the same kind of joy I get from it.

Yes, this is pretty much how I felt when I was there, too...

I seem to be in a really good music groove lately.

When I first started listening to Mumford & Sons, it wasn't long thereafter that I saw them play a few songs on VH1's Unplugged. My only real disappointment was that the show was a half hour long and they only aired three songs.  I wanted more!

And one of the songs, England, wasn't even theirs!  It is by The National, an indie band out of Cincinnati, OH.  Fortunately, it's a great song. I love the original version.  But I think M&S made it just a little better...





I've only spent a week in London (two weeks total in the UK) so far in my life, and it was a while ago, but I still have very vivid memories of the general atmosphere, of the places we visited, and of the people we met.

I remember being awed into silence during the drizzly walk back from Westminster Abby after listening to the choir. I recall thinking it would be hard to sit in such an overwhelming and monumental building, listening to the beautiful sounds of the boys' choir, and not have your belief in a higher power be strengthened. And this was even in my rebellious, flop-but-shaved haircut, long black trench coat, spiked bracelet and boots days.

When visiting another cathedral (the name of which leaves me at the moment), we entered from the east and ended up leaving the grounds from the west. Upon exiting, I figured if I just turned left, and then made two more lefts, I'd end up back where I started. So I turned left. After about 15 minutes of walking, I realized I'd never come across any way of turning left! I looked back behind me to see the whole rest of the group following... as if I knew where I was going. I was having a good time, so I didn't say anything, but kept walking. Eventually, we ended up in a residential neighborhood, where we walked past a cemetery to see two men digging a grave out by hand. I waved. They stopped to stare at the punk teenager leading a group of people on a walk down a quiet street in the outskirts of London.

In Bath, while walking through one of the markets, I was approached by a couple with a German Shepard; they were panhandling for money. I'd seen most people shy away from them - two less-than-kept Brits with dreadlocks and a mangy dog. But, really, they were quite nice and the dog wasn't at all sickly or mangy-looking. I told them I wouldn't give them any money, but if they were hungry I would buy them lunch. (That's always my way of finding out if they really want the money for food or for something else.) To my good fortune, they agreed, and I spent an hour visiting with them, chatting about anything and everything and nothing - where they were from and where I was from and what brought us to that spot on that day. I remember the visit with the homeless British couple more than going to see the old Roman baths, to be honest with you.

I don't often find music that stirs such memories in me...

I want more.

The Little Kiltie Makes An Appearance

The St. Louis Scottish Festival is always on the first weekend of October. And unless I'm off on some damned fool adventure (like attending the Woodworking In America conference in Cincinnati, OH, which was my excuse last year), there's a good chance you'll see me there in one of my kilts.

And now there's a good chance you'll see Finley there in his kilt, as well. His new kilt (it was a new size, not a new tartan, which is Ancient Campbell) was delivered just in time, thanks to Neil at Baby Kilts. (You might also take note of the fact that Finley is one of the babies pictured on the front page of Neil's website... yeah, he's a model.)

It was interesting to see what aspects of the festival Finley liked and didn't like.  For example, we thought the pipe and drum bands would be too loud for him, but he loved them!  He kept leading us closer and closer, though we stopped far enough away that it wasn't too loud for his sensitive little ears.

On the other hand, he wasn't at all interested in the border collie demonstration, where they herded a bunch of sheep around the field.  I thought that weird because he always like dogs, but he really couldn't have been bothered.  Maybe it was the angle we had to watch it from.  Or maybe the police helicopter flying overhead was too much of a distraction.

At one time (this was before I was born, in the early 70's), I think my parents may have been the only proud owners of a herd of highland cattle in the state of Missouri. They didn't last but a year or two, though. Apparently highland cattle don't like fences and are quite deft when it comes to circumventing them. Or, at least, they were good at breaking free from the fences on our farm. After chasing them down one too many times, the diminutive bovines ended up on a shipping truck. I don't know if my mom has any pictures of them - if I find any, I'll append this post with them. 

Watching Finley's reaction to the two highland cattle at the St. Louis Scottish Games made me want to go out and get another herd!  He really enjoyed getting up close to them and they're small enough that they didn't scare him.  I venture to say he could have ridden one...

(As an aside, I think these cows were probably raised in America, because I didn't hear any kind of accent when they mooed.  Not even a bad Kevin Costner one...)

I Heart This...

If I still used a CD player, my Sigh No More CD would possibly never leave it.

(Crap.  You know you're getting old when things you used to do have become "proverbial"...)

So I don't have the album on CD, but it is on my iTouch. And I listen to Mumford & Sons daily (I don't just listen to this album all day long, but it does get played at least once a day).

If you've not heard them yet, then here is a taste. 



I don't often come across new music that resonates in my soul like these guys do. Thought I would share...

Coming up... a few weeks ago, Finley came face-to-face with his first Highland cow.  Will post pictures before this weekend.  :)

And Now For Something Completely Different... Part 01

Ever notice how The Inlaw Josie Wales...



has some striking similarities to Little Martha...



I wonder if there was some influence there, recognized or subliminal.  Or maybe I'm being influenced by the Hi-Rev coffee I'm drinking right now... *shakes*


Either way, both really great songs.

Could Have Been Worse...

Over the Labor Day weekend, on our way to visit the in-laws in Ohio, we stopped at a friend's house in Columbus for lunch and a brief visit.  While there, Finley did his duty (doody?) like a courteous little boy (i.e. he didn't do it while we were doing 80 mph on the interstate).  We asked where we could change him.

"Oh, anywhere is fine.  You can change him there in the living room, if you want."

Having had our share of diaper changing challenges when traveling with the baby, my wife and I exchanged furtive glances of concern. But we eventually consented (mostly because we didn't have much choice). The living room had two possible surfaces - an upholstered futon and a leather ottoman.  We chose the brown leather ottoman, for reasons that should be obvious to anyone who has changed a diaper with a very strong and willful baby.

He didn't flip and toss, but Finley promptly forgot his courtesies and peed everywhere during the 5 seconds he wasn't wearing a diaper.  Floor, ottoman, himself... me.

*sigh*

But, ultimately, it wasn't really a big deal and we quickly had it cleaned up.  We offered many apologies, which were graciously accepted. After lunch, we continued on our way.

The other day, we got an e-mail from that friend, making sure we had a good trip and inviting us back the next time we were driving through.  As an aside, she mentioned they now refer to that piece of furniture as "the pottoman".

I quickly replied, "Hey, at least you don't have a 'poopton'".

Her Favourite Sesame Street Song...

Before he was born, my wife and I made a conscious decision to not turn the TV on when our son was awake in the house. We asked family and babysitters to please consider this, as well, when he was in their residence.  The goal was to reduce his exposure to television to as little as possible for at least the first two years of his life. So far, it has gone well! In fact, he hardly seems interested in it at all when we chance upon a TV when out in public.

Yesterday, the 6-year-old daughter of one of our babysitters asked me (in the matter-of-fact way only a 6-year-old can ask) why Finley wasn't allowed to watch TV like other babies.

I explained to her that we feel this time in his life is the most important, as far as brain development is concerned. We want his interactions with the world around him, at least for the first two years of his life, to be based on direct and personal communication with his parents and extended family. We want him to explore, to sit with us as we read to him, to knock blocks over and poke at things with a stick.

I continued, saying it was a challenge to ourselves to not ever resort to "putting something on" to occupy him while we tried to do something we felt might be more important than raising our child. Since we both work full-time during the day, we only get to spend about three to four hours of each day with him, and we want to make the most of that time.

Was that too much explanation for a 6-year-old? Maybe...

Her next question was, "Is that ALL?" Maybe she was looking for something more like, "Because I'm a mean parent!"

So with that explanation done, it should be obvious to you that this is not Finley's favourite Sesame Street song. It is, in fact, his mother's...