In defiance of every ‘watched-pot’ axiom on the books, my dad and Risa went to visit my sister in Seattle for the week of her due date. Naturally, the inevitable occured: everyone sat around looking at each other for a week, the family went for long walks on the beach, and the station wagon sat, fully loaded with baby-delivery gear, alone in the driveway. At the end of the week, the inevitable happened: my dad left for Albequerque, a giant meteorite exploded dramatically, and four hours later Bridget went into labor. It always seems to work out the same way, doesn’t it?

Sixty hours after the meteor, and fifty-six(!!!) hours after starting labor, I have a new nephew! We’re anxiously awaiting pictures. Meanwhile, my dad came by last night to visit the bird-in-the-hand baby, and dropped off book that’s gonna be really useful for the Time Travel Guide project!