My Brother is Here, Plus Socks

And what have we been up to lately? 

Let me tell you! 

Well, a week ago we went out to the Danube with friends and family to belatedly celebrate Nava's birthday. Because I am rubbish in many ways, I apparently took only one photo. Here it is! 

Thanks for coming, y'all

I also baked an orange-almond cake and spent much time and effort writing a Happy Birthday message on it. It looked like I did it drunk and left-handed, but I figured my illiterate one year-old probably wouldn't care. In the end it was a moot point since the cake got lightly squashed in the cab and all the words were peeled off along with the aluminium foil covering. So it goes. 

Poorly lit cake photo, prior to brutal smooshing.

Nonetheless, the cake did a fine job holding up a single candle and subsequently transporting ungodly amounts of butter and sugar into everyone's bodies. 

We also used this fine opportunity to release the last five tadpoles into a stand of rushes on the side of the river. It seemed sort of safe, in that it was at least ten feet from a school of approximately 10,000 carp. Some guy who was watching with interest assured us that the tadpoles would be eaten within hours. I did not enjoy his attitude. However, it is true that I had to keep redirecting one of the little swimmers into the rushes and away from the fish. He (she?) seemed quite keen to die, really. 

We did not release any baby frogs. This is because they were all dead. Well, except one. One went missing and is only presumed dead, because of how we have two cats and zero ponds in our apartment. Overall, I don't want to talk about it. 

In happier news, this past weekend my brother Elliott arrived from Los Angeles. It's his ten-year high school reunion. This is significant for me in that it means I am super old. How have those little babies been out of high school for ten years? It blows the mind.  

My brother from the same mother. And father. Also, yes we have a fan and an air conditioner. What about it.

Post-reunion face. Day four.

We are, of course, delighted to have him moping around hungover every morning and cheerily recommending that we cook/go out to eat yet another heart-stopping, rib-sticking Austrian delicacy, generally consisting of pork and onions and potatoes. 

After eight consecutive meals the likes of which I generally try to space out over six weeks, I said: "I need to eat a salad for lunch today. Seriously." 

"Ugh, I'm only here for a week," he said. "YOU can have salad." And then he ditched me to have lunch with someone else. Quite astonishing. 

But really, I see him far too seldom and I wish he lived here. I love my brother. 


And also, Miss Noodle has figured out that socks belong on feet. She just doesn't know how to get them there. Behold: 

Abandoned!

In the wee hours of yesterday, my mom left town. She, my dad and my brother were all here for the last three weeks visiting the baby. My sainted parents were tremendous. They worked magic when we were not looking. A microwave materialized, our slightly askew dining table seemed to right itself (and we had been prepared to just live with off-kilter bowls of soup for the rest of our lives), groceries appeared, clothes and rooms were cleaned, and they played with the baby so that mommy could shower and nap... It was great. 

And now they have gone and it's all up to me to not destroy this child while her father is at work.  

AHHH! 

Munch-ing on hot air. HAHAHAHAHA! Ha. I'm very tired. 

Speaking of screams, this is a picture of our window. The hole in the middle of this little homage is our air conditioning vent. One of my dad's projects was to construct an airtight(ish) styrofoam pane to surround it. Ripping of Edvard Munch was his idea, too (although I drew it). It's obviously an ironic commentary on climate change and the futility of exercising our human agency. Ain't it grand? It keeps cold air in and blows hot air out on so many levels. 

**On a side note, I swear we only bought the a/c because I was nine months pregnant and it was hot as balls and I promise we only use it when it's above 35 degrees and I'm so sorry. Kind of. Although not sorry enough to get rid of it.**

This might look like a tremendous eyesore for our neighbors and passers-by below, but consider that previously Alex and I just dangled the hose out the window and filled in all the gaps with garbage bags and masking tape. This is an improvement. 

And this here is an Aperol Spritz, sitting in front of my man and his beer.  I got to soak in all of these on Sunday courtesy of a breast pump and my fine mother who is also good-looking and skinny. Thank you, mom and dad! 

YUM.