We woke up yesterday morning to a frost covering nearly everything outside Emma’s parents’ house.

The lawn was crunchy underfoot.

I took a very muddy hike up to where the header image of this site was taken. The wheat fields were fallow. But this right here is the same hilltop you see at the top of this page. From lush wheat fields to a Martian landscape.

Somehow the English farm this ground. It’s rife with round stones. I don’t know much about farming, but the farm soil in the Hudson Valley is like coffee grounds, and here the English are toughing it out, farming what is essentially a rock field. First Brighton “Beach”, and now this.

There will undoubtedly be wheat here again next summer, though next time I see it in all its glory, knowing the state of the ground underneath, I’ll be far more impressed.

On Saturday evening we headed to nearby Rhinecliff to celebrate the arrival of something called the Sinterklaas (Dutch for Santa Claus). Rhinecliff used to have a celebration every year, but stopped at some point. This was the first Sinterklaas celebration in nearly 20 years.

It began with a bunch of dancers banging drums and percussion instruments. The audiovisual theme was sort of East Village-meets-Mardi Gras-meets-Mad Max.

Next we headed over to the dock, where the Sinterklaas was to arrive by boat. Evie was pretty much done with the whole experience at that point. Luckily my mom was there to help thwart Evie’s efforts to fling her mittens off at every opportunity.

The Sinterklaas boat approached. (See the Sinterklaas riding up top?)

The suspense was killing us.

Some folks posted themselves on the railroad trestle for a better view.

The boat finally arrived at the dock carrying… a puppet. It actually looked a little like a holiday version of King Friday. A few folks held this Sinterklaas aloft, and we proceeded to walk a circuit of the town.

At some point we were inexplicably joined by a full-sized, human Sinterklaas riding a white horse. Despite the white beard, I’m 99% sure this Sinterklass was a woman (which may or may not be part of the original Dutch tradition). I didn’t notice a sack of presents slung across the Sinterklaas’ shoulder, but she led our procession to the local bar, where all was forgiven.

We’re on the cusp of some actual milestones (crawling and waving, mainly), but we’re not there just yet. Most of the recent Evie developments are subtler. In just the two weeks she and Emma were away in England, Evie seems considerably more alert. She looks at you differently—more aware-seeming. The smiles appear to be less reflexive, and more responsive.

And Evie wants to crawl… she just hasn’t quite put it together yet. It makes for the occasional faceplant. I noticed that she had the hint of a fat lip on her upper lip this morning from kissing the rug at speed. Still, after a few tears, the determination returns.

And with Evie’s determination, we’re seeing a lot more of her personality. She’s a little more work now, but also much more fun.

No, it’s not another election post. It’s just a baby panda sneezing. And it’s well worth your 16 seconds.

Obama’s poll numbers were looking very strong going into the election. Still, after having the 2000 election stolen from Al Gore (damn you, Supreme Court and Florida!), and 2004 being promised in the polls to Kerry before going to Bush for another four years of Constitution-dismantling, it’s an understatement to say that we were nervous about this one.

I’ve been reading fivethirtyeight.com obsessively. Way too obsessively. But stats are calming, especially when the numbers are leaning your way. So through all of our whipped dog anxiety, my friends and I felt a growing sense of confidence.

The first numbers we saw on TV were the returns from Virginia. John McCain was up by eleven percent or so. “Oh no–this isn’t looking good,” my friend texted me from Texas. I told him not to worry about the early numbers. Only 4% of the Virginia votes were counted so far, and this might easily have been a Republican county that had come in early.

We knew the paths to 270 electoral votes and victory for Obama. Pennsylvania then went to Obama within the next hour, making his victory all but certain. McCain would have to pretty much run the board at this point to have a chance, and that meant winning Ohio, Virginia, Colorado, Nevada and New Mexico—all states in which Obama was leading in the polls. No chance. Still, we wanted just a little more proof before cracking the champagne.

Less than an hour later, Ohio went our way. Even though it was well before the official declaration of a winner, we knew that was it. Ballgame, right there.

A toast to President-elect Obama!

Emma checked in at 3am her time via video chat. We were sorry she couldn’t be there celebrating with us, but it was great to be able to share a little of the moment with her, as best we could over iChat.

After that we continued to drink and cheer for the next couple of hours. At some point I sent a gloating email to my dear old dad, who’d sent no less than 25 emails during the campaign to warn me and my siblings about the terr0rist/s0cialist/unpatri0tic Barack HUSSE1N 0bama. He wasn’t alone: they came from many Republican friends and acquaintances, too. Happily, all of that noise came to naught. Some of my Republican friends are even admitting that they’re not feeling as bad as they expected to feel with an Obama win. (Still haven’t heard from my dad. I’m thinking that maybe an apology is in order, along with an XL Obama/Biden ‘08 commemorative t-shirt.)

I’m still feeling the rush, three days later. Next up, we’re planning to be in D.C. to see the historic inauguration on January 20th, 2009. Evie will be there. She won’t have a clue as to what she’s watching, but one day we’ll do our best to explain to her what all of this means, and how many millions of dreams have been realized with this election.

I still can’t get over President-Elect Barack Obama’s amazing (though expected) win. This was undoubtedly one of the most important and exciting moments of my life. After the eight years of historic failures from the Bush administration, we clearly have a difficult path ahead of us, but never before have I felt so hopeful and patriotic. I believe in my country again.

Here are a few scenes from a day that will be recorded as one of this nation’s finest:

The local high school where I vote isn’t big on official signs.

I’m pretty sure that’s the top of a doughnut box being used to tell me where to go to cast a vote in a presidential election.

There were far more volunteers than voters. This is a sharp contrast to some places in the country, where voters had to stand on line for hours. I walked in, gave my name, signed next to the signature they have on record for me, and took my place in line.

There was one person in the voting booth, and another waiting. That was the entire line.

New York is the only state that continues to use the pull-lever voting machines. They’re definitely a throwback. I love them. Basically you pull the lever to the right to close the curtain and reset the switches. You then flip switches over your choices, then pull the lever to the left to cast your vote. The machine makes a loud “ka-chunk,” your vote is cast, and the curtain opens.

And with a bunch of levers pulled, buttons pushed, paper ballots inked, and holes punched, we U.S. citizens elected not only our first African-American president, but a once-in-a-generation politician. Our country is lucky to have him, and I’m incredibly proud to have given him my vote.

Nothing beats voting under a basketball hoop in the local gym, with a less than 5 minute wait.

That was the most exciting feeling, pulling that lever today—far more so than any other election I’ve voted in. Let’s just hope the actual votes match Obama’s lead in the polls. Nothing to do now but wait and see….

On Sunday, Emma and I took Evie to Storm King, about 30 miles south of us. It’s a 500+ acre sculpture park, most of the sculptures being on a massive scale, with hundreds of yards between them.

Emma climbed the hill to stand next to one of the sculptures for scale.

Evie surveyed the sights (and rang a bell) from her backpack.

Among our favorites were an easy chair and setee made entirely of U.S. coins—the setee of nickels, and the chair of Kennedy half-dollars. Emma points out a British coin that somehow made it into the mix (and happened to be the only coin that hadn’t tarnished.)

We took some new friends from England for a walk down to the Hudson via Poet’s Walk Park. They brought along their seventh-month-old, Finn, to keep Evie company.


Down near the tracks, we came across a painter rendering the old railroad trestle in oils. He wasn’t half-bad.

Evie is grabbing at everything these days.


After leaving our friends, Emma and I took a walk down to the local farm, stopping to check out the tree colors on our way to visit the kids down the road (in this rare case, I mean “kids” in the more traditional sense).


Evie had shoes on for maybe the third or fourth time in her life, so we let her step out on the trail. (They’re almost too small already, so they were pretty much a one-shot deal, those shoes. Thankfully they were hand-me-downs from Emma’s sister Hannah… though by the brand-spanking-new looks of them, Chloe must’ve worn them about as many times.)

It was getting late. We caught the sunset while walking westward toward our house, with geese honking overhead and Evie craning her neck to see what all the commotion was.