The factory is silent. Its assembly line stands motionless. Somewhere off in the darkness, a buzzer sounds. One by one, lights begin to flicker and illuminate on long-unmanned diagnostic panels, giving a sense of enormity and complexity and scale to the machinery. The low hum of power supplies warming up comes next, followed by the higher and louder whine of turbines and electric motors. A whistle sounds, and one by one, employees begin to file in and take their places at the controls. Purposed for a single task, whose time has now come, the factory slowly comes to life...
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Ooops -- the news of this is two weeks old! LOL
My sisters threw our baby shower for us. We knew that it was going to happen, because I had to provide a list of people we would like to invite, but they didn't tell us where or when it was going to be...
My parents came into town for Mother's Day, so my younger sister, Christina, proposed that we all get together at Dave & Busters, where her husband takes her every year for (step)Mother's Day. I wasn't suspecting anything really, except that we don't usually do anything for Mother's Day, so that seemed odd. But since my parents were around, I left the mental work on it at that.
We took the drive up there, and Christina met us at the door, and led us to a back room...
(Holy crap! Am I smuggling Thanksgiving turkeys in that shirt, or what??)
We couldn't believe all the people that came -- from as close as the street where we live, to as far as 3 hours away! (*not counting my parents who came from Jersey.)
The mom-to-be and grandmom-to-be were made to feel like guests of honor:
Being that I'm part Italian (thanks Mom!) my parents decided to show off their sense of humor:
There was good food, (Mexican buffet! yum!) and Christina made this AMAZING panda cake!
Of course there were gifts:
After food and conversation, everyone got to go play games in the arcade (which, imho, is way better than the typical stupid degrading shower games!) So a good time was had by all.
We really enjoyed seeing everyone (what may be) one last time before the baby is born, because who knows how long it's going to be before we see everyone again!!? We were stressing that we would like visitors after she's here because we will probably be welcoming of adult human conversation and activities once we get the hang of newborn care...
(All pics were courtesy of my dear brother-in-law, Aaron:)
(as Craig brought our camera, but then with all the excitement, we neglected to actually take any pictures!)
Sunday, May 3, 2009
This weekend (and every weeknight last week) was spent doing nothing but painting the nursery. By Kathy, that is. As you'll recall from last week's installment, I'd taken myself out of the running due to the precision required at this point. In the meantime, I tried to take care of the housework, yard work, bringing water and supplies to Kathy, keeping the AC at a tolerable level for an 8-month-pregnant lady (hint: lower) and sanding and painting one of two pieces of furniture for the baby's room.
Sound like a lot? It was nothing compared to the work Kathy put in on the nursery.
As you'll recall, last week found her filling in the various circles she'd plotted out on the wall. This week, she continued to do that:
And continued to do that, adding three coats of paint to each circle...
Once all of that was completed, she began to hand paint a dark brown outline around each circle, starting in the bottom right-hand corner:
And continuing leftward...
I can't even begin to describe to you how tedious and painstaking this process was. She literally free handed each circle with a small paintbrush. From morning until bedtime on Saturday and most of today, she continued to work, until everything was outlined.
She's now in the process of painting the baseboard to cover the over painting. I told her that after this, she's not allowed to exert herself for the next two months.
Stay tuned for our next harrowing installment, wherein our hero (me) attempts to haul various pieces of furniture up a flight of stairs by himself.