You know, mostly it's the little things that make life great. A little thing like Toto, who is perhaps the bitchiest cat on the planet, climbing into the cat house (which she never does) and peering at little Nemo, daring him to attack her. She hates Nemo, but she's willing to forget her grudge for the sake of a little play.

Or a little thing like Nemo himself. In just two-and-a-half weeks he has become master of the house. Toto's a bitch? He doesn't care — he just ignores her. Simon's ten times as big as he is? He doesn't care — Nemo tackles him with all his might. Simon loves it. He loves to drop his fifteen pounds of fat on top of the little kitten, smothering him. They love to chase each other from one end of the house to the other.

Just now Simon is laying on the floor, lashing his tail. Nemo has crept over behind him, and every time Simon's tail lashes, Nemo tries to capture it between his paws. When Simon gets up to walk away, Toto chases him playfully, not in anger.

Cats can be wonderful creatures.

Speaking of children: congratulations to Craig and Lisa Briscoe on the birth of their first child, Albert Simon Briscoe. We're honored that they named him for one of our cats. (Ha! — that's just a funny.) Quoth Lisa:

We're thrilled to announce the arrival of Albert Simon Briscoe. He made his entrance in the world a little early (he was due September 18), but we're all home and doing great.   Albert Simon Briscoe Born Friday, August 22, 2003 at 10:42 a.m. Weight: 6 lbs. 14 oz. Length: 20-7/8 inches Hair: Lots   A little sleep deprived but very happy.

P.S. The digital picture did something weird—he's actually pink and not carrot orange.

Here's the orange child himself:

Kris and I are pleased for them, and we look forward to the day when Bert joins the book group, too. We're also proud of Aimee. She served as the couple's doula, giving the experience a true book group connection. I'll bet they were all discussing Proust during the delivery!

Other little things:

The short drive home from work today was delightful. The sun was soft and warm as it peeked through a blanket of low puffy clouds. I drove with the windows down, my arm dangling outside the car. Just off Gribble Road a hawk swooped in great descending circles, zeroing in on some hapless rodent. My stereo was loud, thump-thumping the CD that Jesus just gave to me.

The guys in the shop mostly listen to Mexican music in its myriad varieties. They listen to the oom-pah stuff, yes, but they also listen to Mexican rap and Mexican pop and sometimes even to good ol' American classic rock. Today they were listening to — and I may have this wrong because sometimes there's a communication barrier — some guy from Italy singing in Spanish. I liked it: kind of poppy electronic sound but definitely Spanish. Because I liked it, Jesus gave me the CD (it was a copy of the original).

Jesus and Jose and Cristobal have formed a soccer team. They've even asked Tony to join them. Custom Box Service funded the team, which plays both indoor (6-man) games and outdoor (8-man) games. They've ordered uniforms, and Tony's going to try to print our logo on them. The team lost its first game of the season 16-6. 16-6?!? The mind boggles. Last night's game had a more soccer-like score: 1-1. It's neat that the employees like each other enough to play soccer together in their spare time.

Nick and I have been playing together a bit, too. He finally persuaded me to try Magic Online. It's fun, but potentially just as expensive as the real thing (only potentially — I intend to keep costs down). Andrew plays, too. Then, today I learned that Joel, who only just recently learned to play the game, signed up and is playing on-line, too. Maybe Mackenzie will join us, too.

For the past ten minutes Toto has been sitting by my side, purring.

It's the little things.

On this day at foldedspace.org

2005 — First Grade   This morning, as I soaked in a hot bath in a darkened room, I was overwhelmed by memories of first-grade.

2004 — The Astonishing Ant-Man   Why haven't you, the average American, ever heard of Ant-Man? Because he's lame.

2002 — Abba Gold   A symptom of hope or a symptom of despair? This morning, Tony and I had a disagreement over ownership of the Abba CD that he had in his car. I claim it for my own, but he insists it's his.