The bits, the pieces.

I usually don't write here unless I have something interesting (well, at least interesting to me) to say. I don't really have that today, but I'm typing, anyway, because I'm bored, and maybe you are, too. This should be good.

I failed to mention that I went to see A Month in the Country at the Abbey Theatre in Dublin. Having studied the Abbey in my theatre history classes, this was a big deal. And it was a good show.

If you haven't read Angela's Ashes, do so. Despite its monumental sadness, it's uproariously funny.

I might actually take the train north to Amsterdam this Saturday. I think I haven't yet because there's just too much to do there; where do you start? With Saturday. Maybe. If the weather clears a bit and I'm feeling motivated enough to do something besides page through travel guides.

Seriously, this cold/rain business is starting to suck. That's fine, indeed fantastic, when you call it "winter," which we were doing when I got here in January. Now it's the same, but it's called "spring" and I'm not buying it.

Something I do here that I don't do at home: iron. I have to iron the kids' stuff, that's in the job description. But now I even iron my own stuff. Half the time, anyway.

Something I don't do here that I will do at home: take more care with what clothes I put in the dryer. I've never shrunk anything I own (I guess because when in doubt, I threw it over my chair or the doorknob or the end of the bed to dry) and it must have given me a dangerous cocky carelessness with the dryer. My spirits remain high, although I've been banned from placing anything in the dryer ever again.

Ed is crawling and sitting himself up. He also won't lie still, which turns diaper- and clothes-changes into mini wrestling matches. They are more difficult to win than you might think.

I've got Kate doing the "yo"(ga), which she loves. "Kate, do you want to do some yoga?"

"Yo," she says, and shifts into tree pose.