AC Capehart capehart

Pop-pop (my dad) arrived yesterday evening, and in so doing, Sam has met her last biological grandparent — She still hasn’t met “Gramma Carolyn” — Pop-pop’s wife. I picked up Pop-pop from the Altoona train station after pretty much an all-day Amtrak trip from Richmond, VA. At least the price was right — less than he’d have paid in gas to make the drive. In a sense, he met Sam at a good time.

Today was Mom’s first day back at work. Fortunately, as a professor, she has a pretty flexible schedule and is due home within the hour. Still, Sam and I were largely on our own. We’ve made it so far, though it was touch-and-go for a little while there. One of the things that we did today before our early-afternoon nap was to go for a walk. It was a beautiful day (for January) here, and I’ve been noticing the lack of exercise brought about by the combination of having an infant at home and crappy weather outside.

I’ve been meaning to write about this first one for a while. In the early days of Sam, we received a lot of stuff. We’re (Carolyn’s) gradually making it through our thank-you note list, but one thing remains a mystery. And a fairly significant one too. We received a rocking chair. It was shortly after both Pop-pop and a family friend named “Jo” said they’d send gifts, but gifts from each of them came the same day or shortly thereafter.

I grew up in North Carolina. We didn’t get much snow. As a kid, we’d drive to the north for Christmas with my grandparents. I understood that further North meant colder meant greater likelihood of snow. What I didn’t understand was that Richmond, VA — not so much “North.” Still, we’d take my sled up, strapped to the bike rack on the back of the family VW bug. And it did snow, in Richmond, just enough to keep a kid’s hope up — though an actual white Christmas was still pretty rare.

Update: Fixed day of week. (thanks bk) Apparently sleep deprivation also means inability to actually read a calendar. Pretty funny when you consider the nature of this post. Being that we now live in a proper neighborhood, complete with neighbors, and now that we have a kid, it seems like it is time to start participating in the whole Halloween thing again. We bought a great deal of candy. We turned on our front porch (and lamp post) lights.

We went back to the pediatrician’s office today. I think I may have mentioned earlier that Sam’s supposed to be gaining an ounce a day at this stage of life. So, she should have gained 7 ounces since we were last there. She gained 3.1. She’s now at 5lbs, 11 oz. We’ve been told to increase the frequency of the supplements — We’d been doing 2 a day. We’re now going for 3-4.

A while back, I took my car into the dealer for service. Since Carolyn gave her car back to her parents, we have just the one vehicle. I dropped her off at work, then dropped the car off at the dealer. I had to use the courtesy shuttle to get back home. I told the driver where I lived, and off we went. Soon, he turned off of the route that I expected him to take.

OK, it’s lantern light, not candle light, but the idea’s pretty similar. And I’ve been doing a lot of it lately. Maybe a couple of weeks after I penned The bk Life, bk asked me if I’d computed on the back porch again. At the time I had not. But the weather has been too beautiful here to stay in the basement. I’ve got a mouse, and I’m more-or-less used to the screen size.

I know why we’re in Altoona. I even appreciate it. I like the new friends we’ve made. But I miss the comfort and convenience of old friends. Even some colleagues from Kesmai. There are enough stocky people with dark hair that every now and again I think I see Stuart Holme in the distance. I miss his uncomplicated appreciation of life. I miss my friend Nancy (not a Charlottesvillian) with whom I seem to often have an understanding that exists outside of spoken communication.

[rant] As you probably know, we bought a house recently. With that sort of thing comes taxes. For the actual sale itself, the state takes 2%. 1% is paid directly to the state by the borrower, the other 1% is paid by the borrower first to the seller who then pays it to the state. Then there are property taxes. Because I own property, the state lays claim to some of my money based again on either what I paid for that property, or (often worse) what it thinks I could get for it if I sold it.