I've made a few more changes to the site layout, mainly in order to better accommodate mobile browsing. (For those of you who are into the design side of things, I've switched from my old static, fixed-width layout to a responsive layout, using the 1140 CSS Grid framework.) If you normally view the site on a large monitor, the differences should be fairly minor, but hopefully things will look better on small monitors and on phones.

As always, let me know if you encounter any problems. There are a few bugs I'm working out with the photo galleries—which are going to undergo a complete overhaul in the near future anyway—but apart from that everything should be working. One note: you may need to refresh your browser in order to properly load the new layout.

This is Jason's baby. His name is Deet. (I don't know why.) This was Eva's gift to her big brother upon the occasion of her birth. From what I can tell—and from what Jason tells me—Deet appears to be a nudist. (I don't know why.)

There were some surprisingly resilient blue bubbles at a birthday party we went to this weekend.

On Sunday, Juliette and Jason made some chocolate-chip-banana-apple-carrot-spinach bread. You wouldn't know it from the name, but it was actually quite tasty.

My baby, pushing her baby.

This is a picture of my baby girl with a mustache. That is all.

I remember doing this when I was Jason's age, falling asleep in the middle of a party, under a table or in a corner, waking up only when it was time to go.

Actually, I remember doing that in college, too, but I guess that's a different story.

The day after my niece's wedding, there was a brunch at the lodge where we were staying, during which I mostly ate, or chatted with family, or kept an eye on my kids. At one point, though, I found myself standing out on the deck, looking out at the ocean and watching the waves ripple through the water on their way to the beach. Letting my eye rest on one spot and watching each swell pass by like the ocean taking a breath, it felt like every little hill in the surface was something coming into being. Something familiar but somehow alien, lonely and yet comforting. Something short-lived but eternal. Something mysterious.

I stood there, transfixed. And then I turned away and went back to the party.

I realize that I sound like a grumpy, old curmudgeon—and this is not entirely inaccurate—but when I was a kid, pumpkin patches were just farms where you could buy pumpkins, not the huge affairs with hay rides and pony rides and food vendors (and petting zoos, bouncy castles, haybale mazes, craft fairs, and so on, and so on) that I see these days. There was a time when the excess of it all did, in fact, make me grumpy. But you know what? These new-fangled pumpkin patches? They're pretty fun. And the kids love going.

Look at how un-curmudgeonly I'm being. I'm as surprised as you are. Go me.

The prospect of a pony ride was sufficient to distract Jason from both the availability of ice cream cones and my willingness to purchase them during our trip to the pumpkin patch this past weekend. Say one thing for this kid, he's got focus.

Mind you, as soon as the pony ride was done, it was time for ice cream.

(Who goes to a pumpkin patch in September, anyway? Us, apparently.)