A Journal of Urban Living

on our persimmon tree:

On Monday, Simon wore his Pirate Parrot onesie to celebrate International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

First Mate Squeaky Panda, Cap'n Simon the Red

On Tuesday, Simon visited Raquel’s office. He smiled at her editor/boss, flirted with the receptionist and cuddled with her friend Shaya. He already knows who to suck up to and has a better understanding of office politics than his mother will ever have.

AP's finest: Administrative Assistant extraordinaire Donna, Reporter-in-Training Simon, Night Writer/Video Journalist Raquel

After a quick snack in a spare edit room, he fell asleep in my arms. Now no one will believe me when I complain about how he screams and keeps us up all night…

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Simon’s 2-month pediatrician’s visit on Thursday made it official: He weighs 11 lbs., 11 oz., sans diaper. That’s an ounce more than Ginger, who is clocking a steady 11 lbs. 10 oz. She doesn’t wear diapers.

Here’s Ginger at her latest weigh-in. The dial is off because she was squirming. I pet her and she purred, so we were able to get an accurate measure.

Ginger weighs in before the fight.

Simon doesn’t enjoy being weighed either. When I put him in the laundry basket lined with clothes (dirty), he got his tiny little toes stuck in the slots and started screaming.

I like to weigh things. Here’s a chart from when the chickens were just fluffy little chicks. I weighed them almost daily until they moved outside to the coop. I was also charting daily egg production for a while but that stopped when Simon came.

I’ve promised not to weigh Simon more than once a week.

Simon does:

The elusive thumb sucker, in the wild in his natural habitat

We’ve hoped that Simon would find his thumb and we were a tad worried that he seemed more interested in a plastic substitute but it looks like he knows what he’s doing.  This is perhaps the only benefit to working late on overseas hardware.  And thanks to Cisco Systems‘ sending the wrong router I may get to do it all over again tomorrow.  I’m confident that Simon will put the right part number in his mouth now that he knows where it is.

It was hot enough to fry an egg in a pocket here at the Dilwedel compound today.  The mercury hit 103F at the closest weather station atop Mount Washington.  Backyard digital thermometer registered 104.7F.

A pocket? you ask.  Wouldn’t that be messy?  Yes it was. It was an accident — not one of Peter’s culinary experiments.

Yesterday Peter fetched four freshly-laid eggs from the coop. He put one in his pocket and smashed it while reaching for the other eggs.  (The chickens have developed a nasty habit of laying under the roost instead of in the convenient nesting box.)  He showed me the gooey spot and we laughed about it. Then he shimmied out of his shorts and left them on the concrete step next to the back door, where they sat all day in the sun…

When I picked them up to throw them in laundry this afternoon, much of the egg was cooked — and caked — on the inside of his pocket.  I had to use the hose on full blast to spray it off.

So there you go! Hot enough to fry an egg in a pocket.

Peter and Simon were watering the front yard cornfield Saturday evening when they spotted a rainbow.

Simon's rainbow

It’s always hard to capture such a phenomena with a camera. It was very bright, arced over the hill up the street and even was a double for a moment. But no one cried.

brilliant colors

I don’t think Simon could see the rainbow. He seemed more interested in the spectacular sunset out back — the dark shapes of the trees, utility poles and buildings against the bright sky.

Simon's sunset

Then the sky turned ominous red and thunder rolled. We saw a couple bolts of lightning over Highland Park. Later during a late night feeding session, I heard rain falling. It was just a few drops. That’s something we get excited about here in Southern California. Usually we don’t get a drop from May to October so I thought Simon would have to wait until Fall to learn about precipitation. Poor kid.

I miss summer thunderstorms on the East Coast. Poor me!

Here are some more photos of Duke and Sally enjoying their newest grandkid. Plus some shots that Sally took of an intense conversation between Simon and his daddy.

Our family has an odd tradition of eating celebratory “picnic” dinners of tapas-like, quick prep foods. It’s a festive meal at the coffee table in the living room while sitting on the floor. Aunt Joanna was in town again this week, detoured during a business trip to NorCal because of Hurricane Irene. She’s the keeper/enforcer of the family traditions. So for all you Dillons out there, here’s Simon’s first.

Simon has received some exquisite hand-knit gifts, a hand-assembled straw star sculpture and lots of other adorable presents.

But this one, from Peter’s friend in Colorado, stands alone. Maybe Nate was just showing off his alliums, but it came all the way from Boulder in a box addressed to Simon Oscar Stemwedel.