Blog-A-Fred

Ian and I are cooking up some special posts for the blog. They require a certain amount of leg work so look for those in the coming weeks and months. For now, here's an update on the Winiferd family:

1. Only a year and half ago, Spottswood lived in terror of Winnie.

When they began living together, we watched the two develop a tepid relationship. Tepid on Spottswood's end, at least. Winnie has always shown an exuberant appreciation for the cat with the glamorous poses and dainty meow.

The two slowly developed a playful relationship.

Last night, Ian and I watched in amazement as Winnie and Spottswood curled up in the same position on the couch.

Then Winnie yawned and Spottswood patted her on the head. I kid you not.

Then they started spooning.

Ian and I stared breathlessly. It was like watching Mutual of Omaha's Mild Kingdom.

2. I feel obligated to post an update on Harvey. He remains anti-social, appearing for only twenty minutes per night before stalking off to enjoy quality alone time. He also barfed on my bed.

Why must you encroach on my alone time?

New Mommy says I'm beautiful, no matter what they say.

This is the bed I barfed in. 

3. I have inexplicably been roped into making a speech for Ian's speech class. For Ian's speech class. Hey professor, I passed my speech class.

The professor has decided the class must host a symposium and each group must bring a speaker.

You know what kind of people want to spend their free time writing a biography, preparing a powerpoint, writing a speech, and spending an evening talking to a class of disinterested college kids? NO ONE.

Which is why I have to speak to Ian's class about infant mortality: no one else would do it. And Ian was desperate. And I DON'T WANT TO DO THIS. But, alas, I kinda like Ian so I'm going to do it.

I'm wondering how much he'll ultimately regret this because you better believe the entire class will receive flyers advertising Winiferd in the Burbs at the end of my speech.

Ian: "But your blog has nothing to do with infant mortality."

Laura: "The hell it doesn't."  

I'l let you know how it goes.