Whitman boys.

Lots of things since last post, mainly because lots of time since last post. Let me give you an abbreviated catch-up, with the promise that I will be more dutiful in sharing The Gus with you, his adoring audience.

First, after we got back from Belize, we found that spring had come in our absence. I took some pictures which I won’t bore you with, but feel free to bore yourself.

I also came back with a post-vacation beard. People generally liked the way it looked. For my part, it felt as though hordes of spiky-toed beetles were constantly crawling over my face. I pretty much live in my head, both at work and in RL, and the additional sensory input from thousands of cheek and chin follicles drove me to distraction. When I decided to quit the experiment — a Tuesday at work, about 10 a.m. — I suddenly felt free, elated. It turns out The Gus wasn’t a fan, either.


I redeemed myself in his eyes, though:

More recently, we went to the beach. TDW says there are “ocean people” and mountain people.” (She sorts all experiences in how they relate to leisure time.) The Gus is “ocean people.” He misses the tidal rush of the womb, and yearns to get back to it:

he found himself taunted by a flock of pipers, or plovers, or some other sort of small flocking shorebird:

He marveled at the miracles that are kites:

He drew in the sand:

Nice work, little buddy!

There was much joy packed into his 24-pound body:

He got quality time with Mommy:

And celebrated by dancing a sandy little jig: