Great news, for those who care. And likely old news by now, but I'm still all a-flutter about it. Scifi has picked up last season's new Doctor Who series, previously only available via BBC and mostly illegal downloading. Hmm...I wonder if iTunes has it?
I've been a fan of Doctor Who since my high school/Cro-magnon days. From what I've heard, the new series is awesome and Christopher Eccleston apparently fills the Gallifreyan shoes admirably. But what would you expect from the guy who goes out of his mind as young Ewan McGregor's roommate in Shallow Grave. (See it if you haven't...it rocks!)
Playing on XM: Hank III (and his twangy new 2-disc album is out!!)
Edit: Four episodes in now. Wow! Eccleston truly does a wonderful job as the excitable yet aloof Doctor. The first two episodes were lackluster for me, but they had a lot of groundwork to lay. Now that the angst is out of the way, the third and fourth episodes were fabulous. They feel very much like the Doctor Who stories of old. Joy!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Monday, March 06, 2006
What a great weekend!
Oops. I kinda forgot that I have a blog. Oh well, on to business.
What a great weekend. It wasn't long enough, I didn't get enough sleep, etc. But two great things happened on Satyrday.
Part: the First
First, was a first. The boys were hanging out that afternoon while we waited for some guests to arrive. My youngest minion, Duncan, got tired of watching TV and playing with Transformers with his brother. That alone is enough to merit a blog post, but that's not the biggie. He wandered off to his bedroom to play by himself.
After giving him enough time to get into trouble, I went to check on him. I found him curled up in his beanbag reading a book. Duncan. My 5-year old dynamo. The boy what never stops moving was enjoying a book. What's more, it was a chapter book! That's the first time he's ever taken one up to read by himself! Granted, he's 5; he's in kindergarten. He's not supposed to be reading on the same level as his older brother. But here he was, reading a 2nd grade-level book.
Not wanting to let this major milestone pass quickly into 5-minutes-ago, I asked him if it would be okay if I got my book and came in to read with him and keep him company. He said, "sure!" So I ran to my bedroom, grabbed that recent issue of Weird Tales magazine I've been dying to finish, and plopped down on his bed.
Naturally, he crawled up onto the bed beside me, and that's where we stayed for the better part of an hour! Duncan has NEVER done anything for the better part of an hour. Quality father/son time if ever there was any. Him with "Junie B., First Grader: Cheater Pants" and me with the second half of a novella by William F. Nolan about Jack the Ripper. Heaven!
Part: the Second
Next was the arrival of our guests: the regional greyhound rescue, um, people. We've wanted to adopt a grey for years and finally ante'd up to the table. They came for a their pre-adoption home visit, bringing along three doe-sized hounds to scamper about in our home. As we all sat in the living room, getting to know each other, the dogs loped around the living room/dining room/kitchen areas, looking very much like a herd of deer.
After checking out the place for five minutes, the dog-people settled in the living room with the human-people to bask in affection and look out our picture window at passers-by. Eventually they settled down on the floor, ignoring the two very-interested boys and conversing adults.
If you've never seen a greyhound, they are odd-looking creatures. Scrawny, with short fur and nearly translucent skin, long legs, noses, and tails. Scrawny, but large. Easily four feet long (without the tail) and three feet high. Two of them were very graceful creatures. The third was larger and gangly. Someone I could relate to, for sure.
The visit went well. The rescue people were giving us good vibes of approval and we were more certain than ever that one of these peaceful, laid-back beasts was the dog for us. That night, we discussed which of the two adoptable hounds we preferred (the third belonged to the people visiting), and not surprisingly, we all preferred the same dog.
Part: the follow-up
We heard back from the rescue group today. They agreed with our choice of animal and encouraged us to move ahead as soon as we can, rather than waiting until April, like we had opted. We're getting a puppy! Well, she's four and the size of a small farm animal, but it's all the same to us!
Playing on XM: The Who
What a great weekend. It wasn't long enough, I didn't get enough sleep, etc. But two great things happened on Satyrday.
Part: the First
First, was a first. The boys were hanging out that afternoon while we waited for some guests to arrive. My youngest minion, Duncan, got tired of watching TV and playing with Transformers with his brother. That alone is enough to merit a blog post, but that's not the biggie. He wandered off to his bedroom to play by himself.
After giving him enough time to get into trouble, I went to check on him. I found him curled up in his beanbag reading a book. Duncan. My 5-year old dynamo. The boy what never stops moving was enjoying a book. What's more, it was a chapter book! That's the first time he's ever taken one up to read by himself! Granted, he's 5; he's in kindergarten. He's not supposed to be reading on the same level as his older brother. But here he was, reading a 2nd grade-level book.
Not wanting to let this major milestone pass quickly into 5-minutes-ago, I asked him if it would be okay if I got my book and came in to read with him and keep him company. He said, "sure!" So I ran to my bedroom, grabbed that recent issue of Weird Tales magazine I've been dying to finish, and plopped down on his bed.
Naturally, he crawled up onto the bed beside me, and that's where we stayed for the better part of an hour! Duncan has NEVER done anything for the better part of an hour. Quality father/son time if ever there was any. Him with "Junie B., First Grader: Cheater Pants" and me with the second half of a novella by William F. Nolan about Jack the Ripper. Heaven!
Part: the Second
Next was the arrival of our guests: the regional greyhound rescue, um, people. We've wanted to adopt a grey for years and finally ante'd up to the table. They came for a their pre-adoption home visit, bringing along three doe-sized hounds to scamper about in our home. As we all sat in the living room, getting to know each other, the dogs loped around the living room/dining room/kitchen areas, looking very much like a herd of deer.
After checking out the place for five minutes, the dog-people settled in the living room with the human-people to bask in affection and look out our picture window at passers-by. Eventually they settled down on the floor, ignoring the two very-interested boys and conversing adults.
If you've never seen a greyhound, they are odd-looking creatures. Scrawny, with short fur and nearly translucent skin, long legs, noses, and tails. Scrawny, but large. Easily four feet long (without the tail) and three feet high. Two of them were very graceful creatures. The third was larger and gangly. Someone I could relate to, for sure.
The visit went well. The rescue people were giving us good vibes of approval and we were more certain than ever that one of these peaceful, laid-back beasts was the dog for us. That night, we discussed which of the two adoptable hounds we preferred (the third belonged to the people visiting), and not surprisingly, we all preferred the same dog.
Part: the follow-up
We heard back from the rescue group today. They agreed with our choice of animal and encouraged us to move ahead as soon as we can, rather than waiting until April, like we had opted. We're getting a puppy! Well, she's four and the size of a small farm animal, but it's all the same to us!
Playing on XM: The Who
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