Local blog celebrity Michael Manske recently posted on MetaFilter a link to our parenting “advice”. This caused a stegosaurus-shaped traffic spike and also brought the humorless out in droves, which is always fun. Assuming the spike is over and there are no residual new viewers, let me state for the record that So you’ve gone and made a baby! was not intended to be a “defeatist screed”, but that if it does indeed dissuade anyone from reproducing, I am happy to take credit for that.
I realize that it is late July and I have not complained about the heat. MetaFilter readers will probably think that this has been done before and better.
We attribute the relatively mild summer here so far to our having bought an air conditioner at the end of last year’s unbearable heatwave.
Months ago Darko and Gwynne simultaneously invited us to provide some random content here and I am finally obliging. This is about as random as I can be without involving LOLCATS and none of us want that. It has been a fallow time. I mostly blame Flickr, as it seems practically redundant to have both a Flickr account and a website. There has been no time to take pictures lately. I realize that that does not necessarily follow.
Pictures. If you averaged the altitudes these two pictures were taken at, you’d get something around 13,000 feet:
and
During the year I spent living in New York City, one of my favorite things was the Indian food on 14th street. Is it still like that? With the endless cheap variety and the BYOB? Cilantro has its detractors, but there are certain cuisines in which it is indispensable, and I miss them all.
At the age of 14 I took up drinking Sanka, which, I can tell you, was very sophisticated.
Here’s a link to a picture that’s copyrighted:
Here’s a picture of Adam weighing approximately 14 pounds:
For four years my college post office box number was either 1514 or 1415. I was finally able to remember by fixing Albrecht Dürer’s “Melencolia I” in my mind.
Zen parable, or just someone being cruel? If it turns out that McSweeney’s is really going belly-up, that will be a cruel thing indeed. Or a zen parable.
The BITWRATHPLOOB that arrived in our mail recently is still with us, but not for long. Next week he departs for sunny northern Spain, but not before making a slight detour to Venice. He also now has his own Flickr group and, of course, his own blog.
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July 20th, 2007 at 20.53 CEST+2.00
I, too, like cilantro.
…
That’s all.
July 20th, 2007 at 20.54 CEST+2.00
ha! i remember the second mountain photo. you remember the tstorm the night before? one tent had the chocolate and the other had the whiskey! now that was a dilemma
July 20th, 2007 at 21.05 CEST+2.00
I don’t recall it being a dilemma.
July 20th, 2007 at 21.39 CEST+2.00
there are several patches of those indian restaurants extant, most notably on 1st avenue around 6th street. i enjoy the enthusiasm with which the workers attempt to lure you into one or another establishment. often there are bread-related bribes.
BUT i have to say that cilantro in high doses tastes like soap to me.
that is all.
July 20th, 2007 at 21.48 CEST+2.00
When my husband showed up after many absentee years at his mother’s home in Croatia bearing the gift of Sanka, he was unceremoniously rebuked. For her, it was not unlike the cat dragging home lizard parts. :-)
July 23rd, 2007 at 15.21 CEST+2.00
Mr. Sgazzetti,
Don’t know if you’re being cruel or zen-like, so I’ll just go along with the “cruel to be kind” methodology. Thanks for your list of Zeven; I cut off 3 fingers to count correctly.
Gwynne, I was stunned by your story. The last time I went to the Land of Croats, I visited quite a few cousins and aunts and, as per custom, we were inundated with plates of bread, salami, ham, cheese, radishes, green pepper and tomato salad, and coffee.
Sanka coffee.
When I inquired as to the possibility of a Turska, my relatives looked at me sitting there with two heads and five horns and told me to “stop living in the past. It’s modern times; we have not enough minutes to be brewing you a Turska! It’s boil and heaping spoon time.”
Even at kavanas I was stunned to see how many people were drinking Americki coffee and cappuccinoes. Mellow times over in Hrvatska, I guess.