A Journal of Urban Living

We all went along on Peter’s biz trip to SF in early Oct.  P went to work, R took care of S (work), so I guess Simon is the only one who got a proper vacation. And he doesn’t know the difference!

But we did have a yummy dinner at the Fifth Floor.

Peter ordered the Sazerac as usual

And our hotel room had a deep spa tub so we all piled in and gave Simon a bath. (No photos of naked people on this blog. Only naked babies.)

We visited P’s office, which has a view of the ferry building and the Bay Bridge. More importantly, Salesforce.com has a lactation room. How enlightened. That’s how you get on those best companies to work for lists. (No photos of boobs on this blog.)

Peter's under-utilized cubicle at the SF HQ

More after the jump.

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Peter planted a mini-cornfield in the front yard in July. We harvested in late September. The ears were strangely stubby and not sweet.

shucking corn

Peter was very disappointed. It’s hard to get sweet corn in SoCal. We’ll try again next year!

stubby corn

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!

Joanna and Gabe offered to Simon-sit last night while Peter and I went to LQ@SK for dinner. Jo called after about an hour… The conversation went something like this:

Peter: Hello?

Joanna: Hey Peter. Sorry to bother you guys. Can you tell me where the bottles are? I can’t find them.

Peter: Bottles?

Joanna: Yeah, the bottles.

Peter: I’m sorry. What did you say?

Joanna: Bottles! I can’t find them.

Peter: What do you need a bottle for?

Joanna: To feed the baby? He’s hungry.

Peter: Oh! Right. The baby. I didn’t know what you were talking about… Bottles are in the dishwasher.

Any trip in which we completely forget that we have an infant at home is a successful outing. Peter claims he thought Jo was trying to make flavored vinegar or something…

The meal was really interesting. Laurent Quenioux of Bistro LQ and Nguyen Tran of the Starry Kitchen put on an amazing show on the plate. That pea triptych was truly memorable. The oenophile sitting next to us was chatty and poured us a taste of his 2002 Burgundy. While Peter is my favorite dining companion, it’s always a pleasure to discuss such a unique meal with neighboring tables.

After the Jo’s gentle reminder of our status as parents on a rare night out, we kept thinking about Simon and how he would’ve enjoyed the meal. Any time we take him out to a loud restaurant, he snoozes straight through dessert in his car seat. So far, it’s the best way to get him to sleep. To me, Starry Kitchen’s generic dance music soundtrack didn’t fit LQ’s unique and fabulous food, but Simon would’ve loved it!

Much like his parents, Simon would eat out every night if he could. But he always orders the same thing: momma’s milk.

Simon: WHAAAHHHAAAAHHH!

Peter retrieves the screaming babe from the other room.

Raquel: Uh-oh, what’s wrong with him now?

Peter: He’s a baby. In the long run, he’ll be fine.

On the way to Simon’s two-week pediatrician visit we had a slight delay getting out of the neighborhood.  Hazelwood, as well as some adjacent streets, were blocked off.

Fortunately we were able to get out so we could learn that Simon had eclipsed his targeted weight gain.  As of today he should have recovered to 7 lbs 4 oz but he was all the way to 7 lbs 9 oz!  Oh, and the police got their guys.

Every morning Simon and I let the chickens out and watch them traipse around and listen to them squawk.  We usually don’t get so H5N1-close to them but he needed a little calming and nothing is calming like hens.

The only one I found anyway.

Found 4/26 in the San Gabriels. Late Edit: San Bernardinos