Hedda Gabler

How horrible! Everything I touch becomes ludicrous and despicable! — It's like a curse.


Hedda Gabler

Ibsen's anti-heroine on the difficulty of reconciling art and life (or death as in the case of Lovborg's suicide). A problem that preoccupied William Butler Yeats also.

Second Father's Day

I had bacon and eggs in bed this morning (with fresh hot coffee and a yogurt smoothie), acoompanied by my wife and daughter. Gayle gave me a baby carrier backpack, which we used to take Rachel around the Brookside Flower Gardens on the last perfect spring afternoon of the year. Before that, we joined my father for dim sum at Good Fortune, Wheaton's best Chinese restaurant. We window shopped at Border's for a little while before discovering that Bertucci's is actually a very family friendly restaurant. Rachel managed to eat a little bit of the macaroni and cheese that did not end up on the floor, while Gayle had a personal Neapolitan style pizza and I had steamed mussels. (The mussels, although billed as appetizer, were more than sufficient for an entree). The complimentary appetizer was herbed oliver oil with bread — delicious, although it does not really allow the flavor of the oil to come through. The desserts — chocolate mousse cake and tiramisu — were also very good, but so large that we decided that next time we would order only one and share. After we returned home and I rocked the baby to sleep, we spent a little time jiggering email accounts, and I plan to read for about a half hour before bed. It's a great feeling to be a father when I am blessed with such a wonderful wife and daughter.

Simple Pleasures

Rachel, Gayle and I went to Wheaton Regional Park. It was a perfect sunny afternoon to go out with the family. Rachel enjoyed the ride on the park's miniature train, but was a bit skeptical about the carousel. The ice cream machine ripped us off to the tune of five dollars, and the park staff simply gave a collective shrug when we complained. After the park, Rachel and I hit Starbucks, Barnes and Noble (picked up a copy of ), the cleaners, CVS, and the grocery store. With limited success, I experimented with smoked turkey legs and fresh corn on the cob for dinner.

Today's Tune

On n'oublie rien de rien,
On s'habitue, c'est tout.

-Jacques Brel

(You forget nothing about anything,
You just get used to it, that's all.)

Moments

I was so proud of my little girl yesterday, she sat up by herself for the first time.

In Memoriam

Our family always takes a moment on Memorial Day to remember my cousin Kenneth MacLeish, a member of the pioneering First Yale Unit (p. 6) who perished in combat over the skies of France during World War I. MacLeish's letters have been collected in . After the War, the Navy named a destroyer after Lt. MacLeish.

Night Airs

The other night as I drove home past midnight, all I could smell on the silent night air (all the cicadas had gone to rest) was the sweet smell of honeysuckle in bloom.

Spring Fever

Everybody is talking about the incipient emergence of the cicadas, but my more immediate concern is that the plants have unleashed a massive cloud of pollen that has reduced us to sniveling sufferers in allergy hell.

Easter Morning

Rachel and I had our first Easter Egg hunt together this morning, after Gayle — I mean, the Easter Bunny — colored and hid a dozen beautiful eggs. Breakfast was, of course, eggs.

Born to Read

Rachel, Gayle, and I spent the morning at the Noyes Library's Born to Read program. One of the best features of the Montgomery County Library, the program is led by a librarian who sings, plays and reads stories with the babies and their parents. Not only do the children love it, particularly since they have an opportunity to see other babies, but the parents also get to commiserate a little bit and come away with new energy and ideas. Afterward, we stopped by Cafe Monet for a latte and a macaroon. Once again, our baby's champagne tastes were confirmed as she tucked into Gayle's smoked salmon.

Where's the Beef?

I tried Queer Eye Chef Ted Allen's steak au poivre recipe tonight, with great success. I did not make the twice baked potato, however; my arteries have their limit. I opted instead for a simple baked potato and some sauteed snow peas. Dinner was two Samoas Girl Scout cookies; I just couldn't say no to the cookie table outside Giant Food.

Bed Time

I hope that when my daughter gets older, she will go to bed earlier!

Reading

Choosing one's reading more carefully is a sign of getting old. When I was growing up, I simply seized on anything that looked interesting. As I grow older, I am not only unable to find as much time to read, but I am also acutely aware that I will never be able to read everything I would like to.