Babbling

Mind bogglingly enough, Normy turned 6 months old back on December 12th . AMAZING. How can it be that my sweet little guy is already half a year old? It seems impossible. Wasn’t he just a helpless blob who couldn’t hold his head up? Now he is standing on my lap, giving me kisses, and clinging around my neck when I pick him up. He’s come so far. The coolest trick in his repertoire is this crazy happy scream he does. It started back when Smoochy would tickle him and get him all riled up. Now Normy screams whenever he gets happy or excited. It’s hilarious when he and Smoochy do the kiss and scream routine. They kiss then scream then kiss then scream, you get the idea.

Other than marveling over our 22lb six month old, Smoochy and I have been trying to get everything ready for Christmas before we head to Kansas. I’ve been struggling to find some holiday cheer, the Christmas Spirit if you will. I’m guzzling eggnog like it’s my job and blasting the Andy Williams Christmas tunes, but nothing seems to quite do the job. Maybe it’s because we don’t have a tree up. Smooch suggested, “Maybe because it’s not hot.” Maybe. It’s true that as a Floridian I am used to Christmas in the 70s. But somehow I don’t really think that’s it.

Seasons are a little less than traditional out here in North California too. But, then I suppose so is a good bit of the population. The seasons compliment the inhabitants: an unusual mix of everything. I’ve got new running shoes so yesterday morning I saddled Norm up in the jogging stroller and took my new shoes out for their maiden voyage.

Through the early morning fog I could make out the rolling hills that encompass my neighborhood. All summer they have been a dry golden color due to the lack of precipitation. However, now they are slowly growing back to green, as we get a cold shower every few days now. I associate green with summer and barren with fall/winter not the other way around. And yet there are tree’s here with brilliantly hued fall leaves. Everywhere I look I see pockets of fall between the palm trees. There are piles of red, orange, and golden leaves collecting in the gutters and heaped neatly on people’s now lush green lawns.

All of this Willy Wonka like fall has me mesmerized. It is beautiful. Yesterday on my jog I was even moved to stop and take a picture of this awesome tree with yellow leaves because it was just such a sight. It was a loan yellow tree in a line of green ones and all the leaves that had fallen had collected around it in a perfect circle so that it looked like the top of the tree was being reflected by the bottom. Okay, it’s possible I made too much of the tree, but I stopped to take a picture anyway. If I could figure out how to download it from my camera-phone I’d show you.

Let me illustrate for you just how silly I must have looked. Imagine, if you came upon a women with her fancy jogging stroller broadcasting her iPod tunes out for everyone’s enjoyment (or not, I was listening to Mozart at that precise moment) through a speaker on said fancy stroller; taking a picture of some tree with her pink razor phone. What would be your first thought? Yuppie? Weirdo? Does it change anything that the next song that shuffled was Interlude by Morrissey and Siouxsie of the Banshees? That’s even worse, huh?

Alright, I’m done now. You can tell there’s not much going on because I am writing about the weather and some tree. At least I’m not telling ya’ll about the mold I bleached out of my shower today. I’m sure I’ll have some more exciting things to tell you about in a few days once we’ve made it to Kansas for Christmas.