Whitman boys.

Number one: I’m kicking myself, because this post was complete, was DONE, and I was just going to insert the pictures when I noticed that my scriptblocker (NoScript, for Firefox, no I won’t insert a link, I’m steaming) had forgotten that of all the sites that is allowed to run scripts, mattwhitman.com was at the top of the list. So I allowed scripts, and it promptly reloaded the “edit this post” page, and all my text was gone. [pounds head on keyboard]
Back to the post, recreated from my luckily-eidetic memory but laboriously retyped:

So occasionally, whether out of a desire to torment myself or a desire to remind myself of what life was life pre-TDW, pre-The Gus, I return to the archives of this very blog. I go back in time, back to when it was still hosted on blogspot, back to when I was full of fire and frenzy, back to when I had all the answers, back to when I was proudly self-righteous about having just voted for Nader for the second time.

[sobs quietly]

[sobs quietly, the sobs gradually silenced by bourbon]

[mmmm, bourbon]

And when I see all those posts, sometimes multiple posts a day, on current events, politics, books, web trends, and everything, I marvel at the sheer posting energy I displayed. Then I remember two things: first, I was surfing the web far more than I should have been while at work. Second, the fact that this site has turned into a de facto daddy blog, and one only intermittently maintained at that, doesn’t mean that my world has contracted. It has expanded. Every day, The Gus teaches me something new about myself. Or at least, this being the terrible twos, he teaches me new patience. That’s a virtue, I hear. So please don’t take the utter absence of any post in the entire month of March 2008 as a sign that the whole Whitman clan was in some disastrous accident on March 1, nor that I have abandoned you, all my faithful readers, both of you. That would be wrong. It doesn’t do justice to our eternal bond.

March in fact took place. Time passed. Things happened, and the camera was present at some of them.

For example, The Gus took a nap on the floor, for no apparent reason than he figured it would provoke the paparazzo:

On Easter, he hunted eggs, with some limited success:

He also got an Easter basket, back at the abode. It contained an Easter treat, high in B vitamins:

And a new Easter friend:

We also went on adventures, including to the store:

Just this past weekend, we went to Black Butte, where there was snow:

We played in the accumulated snowdrift after the previous night’s light dusting melted:

That made us cold, so we warmed up on the heating grate:

Then we climbed in the dog’s cage, just for kicks:

All of this naturally plumb tuckered us out: