What I love about SoCal in the spring: jasmine.


(headed to Los Angeles later this week, doubt the jasmine is still in bloom.)

This man, here with Simone, is now Father to his own baby. Congratulations, Johnny and Dina, on the arrival of Townes, 12 June! (we expect a baby blog to be up in no time -- your public awaits.)

I return from two weeks in Los Angeles and MSG finds this note in our mailbox.

Taken from our deck yesterday afternoon:


Yes, it's a bear. There's a family of them living in the woods next to our house. A few days ago I saw four cubs in my front lawn, looking up at me through the window.

Springtime is incredible this year, after accumulating the most snow on record this past winter. The flowers are fighting to emerge, alongside stalwart snow piles, even with temperatures in the 70s F (today might have even reached the low 80s).

Like all kinds of alterna-teens in Southern California in the 1980s, KROQ 106.7-FM was the soundtrack of my youth. Here at KROQ of the 80s we can have the freaky experience of listening to a reconstruction of the station. All that's missing is Rodney Bingenheimer's distinctive late-night voice, Dusty Street, or Richard Blade. I'm not sure I can handle this level of nostalgia, actually -- the simulacra model, or something, is a bit unnerving.

My nephew, Brady, 5-days old.

Nico and Luca (and Charlie, the dad) in the SF Chronicle.

Breaking News! It's a boy!

Well this blog is hardly the place to break news, but here it is:

My twin brother and sister-in-law had their baby this morning! No name yet, but the baby is male, 6 lbs 4 oz, born in Los Angeles, California at 7:14 AM.

Mazel tov!

Update: babe's name is Brady (and he came two weeks early).

My favorite part of our transfer station is the "Winston Free Dumpbrary." The dump is run by a guy named Churchill and he's implemented a little free library -- gotta love it.




Transfer stations are the hot-spots of New Hampshire. Since most places don't offer municipal trash pick-up, we have to haul our garbage and recyclables to the local dump. Consequently, most people use home composts to minimize their garbage and they re-use just about everything (in addition to the garbage, transfer stations offer a place to exchange things -- this is how we've gotten much of our house furnishings, though we've now instituted a moratorium on bringing things home from the dump!). Best of all, the dumps themselves have become social sites -- when we first moved here, for example, MSG was advised to "hang out" at the transfer station, because that's where he was likely to meet people. I think this also helps explain the thriving garage/barn/tag-sale culture here (this is also how we've outfitted our home).

(Nicky, incidentally, insists that the way to make a fortune in NH is to start a trash-pick company, but NH residents are pretty attached to their dumps!)