This picture will help put the heading picture from the last post into a little better context.

I had just come back from Spain, and Sheri and I had just moved to Monterey, and it had seriously been about 4 months since my last haircut, so we decided to do these before and after pictures. This is the before, the one from the last post is the after.

Though, in all honesty, this picture is much more representative of what my brain is doing now.

Over this "Holiday" weekend, my company had a little attack. It's a long story, but in a nutshell, a project that we had committed to translate by Monday suddenly expanded by a factor of five. 2 documents turned into 11. So Sheri and I forewent going to see Bee Movie on Friday (after a lovely yet uneventful Thanksgiving dinner with our Bishop), and drove down to Carmel Valley, baby in tow, and spent our afternoon working.

The mayhem continued today, and tomorrow the brunt of the work is due to be reviewed (by me) and delivered.

Unfortunately, this is at the same time as when the brunt of my semester comes to a close, an event which includes two finals, two graded assignments, and a class all day this next Saturday. Oh, why didn't I just go to med school?

End transmission.

I turned the big 29 today.

How was it, you may ask? Do I feel pensive? Reflective? Am I taking stock of the first 29 years of my life, looking at the next 29, hoping to make the best of them? Does it weigh on me that I only have one remaining year of my 20's, that I'm a relatively new husband and a newer father, that I am quickly approaching the entry gate to a promising and fulfilling career, that I'm beginning to feel the downward pressure of time and energy that I can reasonably dedicate to the number of extracurricular activities I have managed to juggle for nearly three decades, that I am coming to the realization that, despite said downward pressure, I am resisting the
temptation to succumb and forsake goals that have haunted me since my early teens, that I am thankful for a wife who supports me in my endeavors and spurs me to act, to grow and live well, and, in essence, to "crap or get off the pot," to put it crassly, in regards to such goals and dreams, and that, due to this modern age that we live in, 29 isn't all that bad, after all? Do I have an increased sense of mortality that urges me to strengthen my personal relationships, with my beautiful and caring wife and our newborn daughter, with my siblings and parents (highlight this one due to physical distance), with my friends, both old and new, scattered across the continent?

Nah. I'm not in my 30's yet.

Well, maybe a little.

ps- isn't that a scary picture? It makes me look like an ex-con.

End transmission.

This is Ash. It's been a while since he's had an entire post dedicated to him; now seems like the most appropriate time, since both my beautiful wife and beautiful child are in St George this week.

And no, this isn't a picture of Ash sitting on the couch. It's a picture of Ash sitting on me sitting on the couch.

Anyway. Here's a story about what a responsible dog he is. Last night I'm watching the teevee, and Ash is sleeping in his bed in the other room. I look up from my homework to the sound of what I can only describe as the sound someone would make stomping through knee-deep mud wearing heavy rubber boots. Much to my surprise, Ash comes running around the corner, gagging (hence the sound), and gives me a desperate look in the eye that says, "I really don't want to do this to your carpet."

So I jump up, run to the back door, and let him out into the back yard. And sure enough, about 10 seconds later, I hear a big, KAAAAACK!!! And then Ash comes running back in, gets a drink, and goes back to bed.

What a great dog! Now, if only I could transfer that knowledge instantly to my baby girl, once she starts eating solids.

End Transmission.