In the Park

Mom and Dad took me to the park for a benefit barbecue whose proceeds go to give bikes to kids who need them. Mom and Dad ate barbecue, I ate my puffs, and Dad took me swinging, which I like.

Dad and I are not worried about our Patriots.

Access Denied

Mom and Dad are trying to keep me out of "places I shouldn't be," which leads to a sort of evolutionary arms race between us. I really wonder what is behind some of these doors.

Happy (Belated) 11 Month Birthday to Me!

I am 11 months old now. I like to eat and play percussion with metal spoons on hard surfaces. I am very close to walking without the assistance of the couch, tables, or anything I can pull myself up with. I waved goodbye to the guys at daycare today, and Mom was impressed.

And Dad has been letting me listen to his CDs of Richard Dawkins reading from the Origin of Species and Calexico's "Carried to Dust."

Bluesman in the Making

Even on a plastic ukulele, Dad says it's either the blues or zippity doo-dah. It's my choice. Dad's been showing me some cool string bends and slides to make my ukulele talk. And he's been singing "My Bucket's Got a Hole in It" to me, for inspiration: "My bucket's got a hole in it, can't buy no beer milk".

I've got a second tooth. I tried re-fried beans at a Mexican restaurant last night. Unfortunately, my diaper got a hole in it twice today, and Mom says we will hold off on the re-fried beans for a while.

Dad and I saw a great blue heron at the duck pond this week; plus five killer nutria rats, lots of ducks, and a cat - which rubbed noses with one of the killer nutria rats, and lived to mewl about it.

Dancing Henry

I like to dance. Well, at least I like to bend my knees and gyrate when I stand up and hold on. Mom says I'm a dancer. Moms are supposed to say things like that.