deWitt Construction Inc.

Well, the party's over. The men started a job in Seattle. No more playing around all day with me and reading books with heaping cups of tea. They get up way before the sun gets up and take the 6am ferry to the other side. It is an all deWitt affair including Uncle Nicky and Great? Uncle Victor who I call No-No-No. This is what it looks like to work for deWitt construction: My dad heaving heavy things all around and my Grandpoop standing nearby with one hand on his hip, biting his bottom lip, looking intensely at nothing:

Facets

As you all know I am a little boy. But I am beginning to realize that there are many different layers to all of that. Sometimes I feel all rough and wild and think about big trucks and heavy machinery. And then sometimes, I think about little kitties and bunnies and hugging and kissing. I like tractors AND I like little baby sheep. I am more than just a boy. I am more than that.

TIMBER !!!

She came down. The axing tree. We axed and axed and axed and the poor old tree just couldn't take it anymore. Everyone's that has ever visited here has thrown an axe into the old girl. She was a champ. Grandpoop finished her off with his mighty mighty chainsaw. Now who are we gonna axe?

Brown Dawn

It was a morning like any other morning...
The sunlight coming through the curtains, birds chirping out the window, my parents hear me talking and humming in my bed. Mama came into my room and instantly smelled that I had been visited by the poo fairy in the night. This happens sometimes. When she turned on the light, she discovered something that has never yet happened. I was lying on my back with my hands frozen by my side. The first thing she noticed was that my nose was completely brown. Then she saw that my pajamas were all the way unzipped, my diaper had exploded with the dirty #2, and brown, brown, stinking brown was EVERYWHERE. My face, my hands, my tummy, my legs, my blankets. No one really knows but me why I decided to unzip that morning and why finger painting with poop seemed like a good idea. The thing is, I can't even tell you. It's all a hazy dream to me, a hazy, stinking, brown dream. I am posting a picture of my clean cute self below because if you saw photo documentation of this story I am afraid that things might change between us. I'm still the same ole Gus, okay?

Confessions of a Jock

Turns out I'm good at sports. I hope this does not tarnish my chances of being an intellectual snob or a cool indie rocker.

So It Goes...

Well, now that my blog is working again and I can show you pictures, I realized I don't have anything really exciting to show except the same old normal stuff that I always do! The 2 year old rut--it happens. I've just been playing and eating and sleeping mostly. I kick the ball outside a lot, and I help garden with my little shovel, and I eat a lot of bagels and pasta and oranges and chicken soup (which I pronounce poop). I sleep from 8 at night until 8 in the morning, plus a two hour afternoon nap. My schedule is very easy maintenance now.

This is Grandpoop's room where its NO PARENTS ALLOWED. Just us guys and Charlie the Moose. We read our books and eat our bagels and kiss. Just normal guy stuff.

See No Evil

Something's wrong with my stupid blogspot and it won't let me post my pictures to show you. When this happens, I always wish I had audio so that instead of seeing you could be hearing. You could hear me say, with actual clarity, words and phrases and sentances. I'd tell you about Purple Herbie, my new car. And Ray the Dog, my best bed buddy. And Truck the Duck, who I bathe with. And you could hear my latest joke. You ask me how the Italian goes, and I answer: Mamma Mia! If you want to call me, I will tell you more jokes and show you more of my verbal skills. I LIVE to talk on the phone so next time you're feeling bored and have an extra five minutes, just call up here and ask for Gus.

Urban Monkey

Been getting over to Seattle more often. I'm bigger now and I nap later so we have more time to run around and see the city. The biggest perk of that side of the water is my Uncle Nick who has a house there. We stop by and I am allowed to stand in his room but not allowed to touch anything. I am allowed to touch and play with the hippie beads in the doorway but only for a few moments. I could really do it for much longer. Maybe I'll be a hippie when I grow up.

the party's over

Daddy returned to us. I always knew he would. He came back with a bag of records and a splitting headache. A night with the men leads to a day in the tub...

Happy Birthday Daddy

This is the final happy birthday wish, for a while anyways, and its one of the biggest. My dad's. In celebration of his birthday he finished and printed out the first draft of his second novel. It weighs two pounds (we put it on the scale) which means its pretty heavy stuff. He's been hard at work on this every day since we got to the woods of Washington. We are not allowed to read it because he has months of rewrites but we are still very proud and happy for him today due to the finishing of the book and the day of birth. Mama took him to a spanish film and now we are bbq'ing steaks for the family to have with twice baked potatoes and then ice cream. Tomorrow Dad gets to go into the city by himself and have time with men. He better come back.

DOH !

Mama says one of the best things about having me is that she gets to do all the stuff she did when she was a kid and feel the warm weird feelings of remembering that far away. Mamam bought me play doh and when I opened the jar the smell of it made my mom feel exactly the same as when she was my age. If you get a chance to sniff some doh, you really should so you can travel back in your mind to when you just sat and played and things were very very different.

party monster

Are you all sick of my birthday blogs yet? I don't know why everyone has their birthday at the same time, must be springtime loving or something, but I'm not complaining because I for one love a good birthday party. I went to baby Luca's first birthday. Oh, to be one again. The innocence, the carelessness, without all the stress and confusion that I know now. I had a super fun time. I got to eat a cupcake with chocolate. I couldn't take my eyes off that thing! I'd never seen anything like it. I just stared at it and touched it for a real long while and then when I bit into it -- kaplow! Sugary (refined of course, thanks mama Jenn) Sweetness! Somewhere after my first few bites Mama snuck the cupcake away into hiding, fearing for some sort of spastic ferry ride home I guess. But I was able to distract myself with a jack-in-the-box which I had also never seen (what am I, an amish?) and my new lady friends Clio and Romy who I've been talking about ever since that wonderful birthday day.