avery

It is a zoo out there.  Literally.  Zebras and cows.  A horse in two parts.  A diminutive and Asian Indiana Jones.

I met up with Lee today to swing a big hammer at one of our latest scripts.  The one I can’t tell you about.  Our effort today was meant to include one Mr Brian Dobson (please) via G+, but between our off-site wifi trials and his antique computer tribulations, we released Mr Dobson to whatever it is he does with his Halloween Saturday evenings.  OOOOOOoooooOOOOOOoooo!  I’m not saying we just cost somebody their life right there, but I’m not saying we didn’t.  Well, what can you do, right?

Avery Peppermint Taverner was snugly dressed up in her costume of “I’m not going to sleep anytime soon and you can just deal with that, Mum”.  I was out with Lee, confabulating on the script, while Mum was patiently and lovingly aiming Avery toward sleep.  Apparently our little bunny was having none of it.  The project started just before 9 and was still going strong when we last checked in together after 11.  I got home around 12, and all was quiet.  I haven’t opened the bedroom door yet, but all is quiet.  Mum wins again, I’m guessing.

So yes – a zoo.  New York does Halloween well.  With enthusiasm.  Up near the university there would have been a massive parade that I didn’t get near, with thousands of costumes and all sorts of hijinx.  And the two classy joints we holed up in were not spared from the spectacle.  Darth Vader bussed my glasses while Peter Griffin’s arch nemesis, the Chicken, generously bartended for us.  Scantily clad pirate girls walked the streets with Spider Men and whatever that fuzzy blue gay fella was supposed to be.  I do really like Halloween in New York.  I should really make an effort with the cameras one year.  And the costumes.  I have a little girl coming up the ranks who will be demanding her own costumed walk amongst the deviltry soon enough.  If Marjorie has her way this year, we will let the front desk know that we may safely be counted amongst the candy-distributing cool people in our building.  Who am I to argue?  The guy who will end up answering the door 90% of the time, that’s who.  Awww.

Hey – there was a not-insignificant earthquake centered in the Queen Charlottes an hour or so ago.  It’s all over Facebook.  What is also all over Facebook is how none of it is on the news yet.  sigh.  Talk about a testament to the new age of information.  If you are not plugged in – and by that I mean wireless, you are at severe risk of drowning in a tsunami you never knew was coming.  Twenty years ago you could count on your local stations to be interrupted.  Now… I guess they have to go through channels.  With Viacom or whichever globocorp owns your local news.  Hope my folks are ok.  Hey folks – feel free to chime in here when you get this.

Meanwhile, New York has Hurricane Sandy to look forward to on Monday.  Maybe this one will be a little more newsworthy than Irene.  Not to take anything away from those that suffered Irene’s wrath – and not to complain!  For Irene, I taped up the windows on our south-facing 43rd floor, charged the flashlight batteries, and bought a dozen liters of water.  For Sandy… I dunno.  I guess we’ll bring in the patio furniture?  If it’s significant, we’ll lose the subway for a few hours, and probably the intertubes.  We have a freezer full of food that will keep us for a couple days, and Avery’s dietary needs are covered.  Worst that could happen… the power might be out for a couple days.  We’ll manage.  More likely we’ll watch the wind snarl up the East River and keep on working.  You’ve heard of New York, right?

We’re supposed to have a shoot for L’Oréal Professionnel on Monday.  I suppose SoHo might be affected by torrential rains, violent winds and cancelled catering.  Hope we’re all good.  It will be great to get behind a camera again.  Light some faces.  Shoot some people.  So I have no objection to another Irene (New York chapter).  Sorry to disappoint.  On the other hand, laughing at the devil, I also enjoy massive lightning strikes, flood conditions, and that bonding that only happens when the power goes down.  So there.  I have my hug buddies lined up.  You?

I think she’s settling in around here.  Getting comfortable.

So I’m up late tonight because I’ve been trying to get my replacement Withings baby monitor to connect to either my iPad or iPhone.  Whichever.  Just connect, damn your replacement hide.  But I’m not super concerned.  I had the same trouble when the first one came out of the box.  After a day or two it randomly connected like a champ, and I had almost no trouble after that.  Until the port broke.  A huge and grateful thank you to Withings and Tekserve for cheerfully replacing it.  That’s how you make (and keep) a happy customer.

Happy once I get it working, anyway.

Little Pepper might have slept the whole night through if we’d let her.  That might have delighted us a couple weeks ago, but now we keep an eye on the calorie count.  Gotta fatten this turkey up.  We’ll check the score next Thursday and go from there.

Christmas plans are simmering up.  The Phillips clan will share their Christmas morning with us.  The Taverner clan will probably reach maximum density on Christmas afternoon.  Not sure how many Christmasses we’ll continue this bouncing thing, but for this year everybody gets a taste of home.  And yes, I will love having two families, two Christmasses, two stockings… my spirit knows no bounds.  If it were physically possible to get both clans in one room for Christmas morning, I would totally do it.  Probably just once.  Because that’s a boatload of people, in the political refugee sense.  But that would be awesome.  So fun.  The designated (self and otherwise) cooks are glaring at me right now.  But c’mon.  It would be awesome.

Avery is at that awkward stage.  (What?!)  Yep.  Too big for newborn clothes and not big enough for 3 month clothes.  She’s a noodle.  BUT!  She’s less linguini and more fettuccine these days!  And such a doll.  Belches like a trucker… and also various other trucker-like behaviours.  Not that I mean any disrespect toward the profession.  Ha – that was untrucker-like of me, right there.  Sorry.  Oh, did it again.  And again.  Moving on.

Ladies and gentlemen, tomorrow we add to [the secret TV project] team one Brian Dobson, best known for about a bajillion voice roles in animation.  Considering we have been trying to reel him into a project with us for, oh, ten years, this is a big day for us.  Some might say it’s about frickin time, Mr Dobson.  Please.

I keep thinking of things I want to write about.  Blog about.  And I should have those thoughts (and act on them) about four hours earlier.  So I’ma shut up now.  You got your adorable baby pic, so be off with you.  But seriously, thanks for reading, feel free to say hey in the comments, and don’t forget to hug somebody as soon as humanly possible.

There, as they say, is an old soul.  An old bald soul.  As shot at the pediatrician appointment today.  That is the image of a girl that has gained nearly a pound in a week.  Marjorie has been a soldier, grinding away at feedings every three hours round the clock (Avery has been great as well).  Grab your calculators and confirm that means 56 of the last 168 hours manning the milk station.  I was going to say milk cannons but it seemed gauche.  So I didn’t.  Did not.  Stop grinning.  You’ll get me in trouble.  So immature.

Now, that 56 hours is conservative, because Marjorie wasn’t holding back.  If Avery wanted more than an hour at the Milk Bar, then she was welcome to it.  I frequently jumped in with the bottle, but if we’re going to be fair, this was Marjorie’s campaign, and a chubby cherubic Avery her one shining goal.  Respect.  And mission accomplished.

The doc said we’re doing great.  Pepper is into the 15th percentile for weight – that’s a mile high leap from last week.  Doc Chris says, “Keep it up.”

I says, “Pardon?”

In the end, with no physical threats whatsoever, we agreed that waking Avery for feedings every three hours isn’t necessary, so long as we keep up the calorie flood.  On demand feeding is fine.  Little bunny will be at the pumps (stop it, you) at her command, with followup formula fortification.  We’ll weigh her again in a week, and if she’s still gaining strong (at this rate she’ll be playing women’s rugby by Christmas, and men’s rugby by New Year’s) then we can ease off the formula.  Mum wants a breast-fed baby.  I’m a little more relaxed on the subject, figuring that so long as Avery gets all the breast milk she wants, and we just keep the tank full with formula, she’ll have all the benefit and none of the detriment.  Also, I would like to rescue my wife from under the baby and/or breast pump so she can feel human for a few hours every day.  Like a prisoner with his one hour of daylight.  Not that she would ever even consider looking at it that way.  She loves being a mom.  And she’s very good at it.  It’s very fun to watch.  Still, a husband wants to help.  Both his girls.  And I like feeding Avery!  Quite a lot.

Hey!  Look at this moron!  He’s still up at 1am because his kid’s doctor said he could sleep more now!  sigh.

On the biz side, CBcom is in the tweaks stage.  Exciting.  The software project is negotiating its next phase.  Awesome.  The… what vague title do I use for this… I dunno.  TV series project.  There.  The TV series project is developing nicely.  Super great.  We can write us some comedy.  Us we can.

And I just chatted with my sister on FB about Christmas plans.  We’re just getting started.  We have some dates.  That’s a good start.  Will run them by my beloved wife in the morning, after we’ve had a relatively spectacular night’s sleep.  Robyn ducked out before I could make sure we’ll be seeing plentiful and awesome pics of my nephews in Halloween costume, so here I am doing that.  See that, darling sister?  Oh I’m looking at you.  Making sure.  We’ll be seeing.  Pics.  Aplenty.

That does it.  I’m going to bed.