Pre-Dawn Walking

I've always enjoyed walking, but in January, started tracking my walks through an app because I'd seen this 500k program where you could get Sesame Street swag... and that ended up being a REALLY expensive program, but I thought it would be cool to see how far I might walk in a whole year.

What happened, though, as the month wore on, was that I found myself slipping into disordered behavior, where if I didn't feel like a walk (say, with an older friend, at a slower pace, and not as far as my regular constitutional) met certain criteria, I'd want to walk more later, just to get it tracked. Or if I gave myself a day off, I felt like that space was a glaring missing tooth in the week.

It wasn't healthy, so I decided to stop tracking and just enjoy walking. Which I do when I'm no being weird about things.

I'd heard about a lady who said that, in order to run in the morning before the onslaught of the day happened, she would wear her running clothes to bed so she could just get up and go. I've never wanted to motivate myself to run, but figured that early morning might be a good time to enjoy the neighborhood without having to excuse myself from the family for an hour or more on a regular basis, and also if I could build the habit up before summer, the future me would thank my present self.

Furthermore, we're getting a dog in August, and sleep is going to be spotty for several weeks or more, so waking myself up when it's still dark is some preparation for that, as well.

After I'd walked one morning and really liked it, I set an alarm on my phone to make sure I'd wake up early enough. That felt too official, though, so I turned it off. I would walk if I woke up early enough, and if I didn't... that would be fine. 

So far, this is working.

I'm tending to wake up naturally at 5:35-6:15 every morning. I guess I've probably always awakened at about that time, but just rolled over and gone back to sleep (which, actually, I've done several times, when it's been raining or I decided to give myself the day off, or knew I was going to walk with someone later in the day).

One thing I notice when I'm out and it's still dark out, is which houses already have lights on inside. It feels so early, that I am sorry for those people who have to get up to get their kids ready for the bus (one of them picks up before sunrise), or to head in to work. Today it hit me: I'm up. Dur. But the difference is that we are fortunate enough to have a lifestyle where we almost never need artificial lighting to start our days. 

James no longer has to commute, so the sun is well up by the time he checks in at "the office." Neither of my kids has ever been in school, much less ridden a school bus. And I can get around in the near-dark pretty well. So we all have the luxury of being awakened gently as light slowly breaks us into the day.

As an aside, we bought these to help see when we're out in the dark. They work very well, and they don't mess with your pupils' dilation, so if you're trying to stargaze (or you just don't want to shine a bright light into a neighbor's window), they're super! Highly recommend.

Here are a few pictures from my morning treks.

"Not a Normal Mom"

Mal came to me last week and said, "I'm glad you're not a normal mom."

Since I'm sure this is true on many levels, I wanted some specification. "What do you mean 'normal'?"

He said, "Like most moms are mean to their kids."

Okay, I got it. It's taken him six and a half years, but he realizes that we don't punish him.

I said, "Most moms aren't being mean to their kids; moms might punish their kids because they think it will help them be better people. Like, if they feel like their kid is using the computer too much, or used it without permission, they might take it away for a while so their kid will think about it more next time."

He said, "Yeah. I'm glad you're not like that."

Now TOTALLY changing the subject... on the Hidden Brain podcast this week, a guess was talking about the "comedy cliff," wherein at about the age of 23, people stop engaging in humor as frequently as they did when they were kids. One way this was determined was by asking survey respondents: "Did you laugh yesterday?" Almost all children answer yes (and most young kids laugh something like 400 times a day, and adults less than 20). Many adults answer no, until the age of 70, when I guess we start loosening up again.

I told James that those adults must not have kids like Mal.

He makes us laugh literally every single day, many times over.

One of the things I miss about our house in Sherman was the giant dining room we didn't use because there was just plenty of room at the bar in the kitchen... I mean, we have room at our bar here, too, but in Sherman, the seats faced each other because of how the bar was shaped. Here, we'd just be awkwardly facing the kitchen, like we did in the apartment.

Anyway, since we don't have a dedicated "homeschool desk," one of our repeated challenges is that Mal likes to get out his blocks and LEGO bricks and play sets on the kitchen table, and he wants to leave them out to play with "tomorrow." And the next day. And the next. And after a while, I just want to sit down to eat without having to shuffle small bits of plastic.

Yesterday was Day Three of Minecraft LEGOs on the table, and I'd told Mal I wanted to move the sets over to the coffee table. When I started, Mal followed me around, bringing the sets back to the table.

Later in the day, James was eating lunch while Mal was in our bedroom closet watching videos. As James and I chatted, I quietly moved things over to the coffee table. I figured that if I could get everything moved over, then Mal would be too overwhelmed to move it back. I was successful, and James and I continued our conversation. About five minutes later, Mal came into the room to show us something, and just said in a dead pan, "You monster."

He cracks me up every day. That's good, because he is also by turns demanding and emotionally exhausting. And his humor and mostly good nature goes a long way in injecting much-needed energy into the environment. 

Half a year of wood-working

Well, maybe 2/3. Or even 3/4. I'm not sure where/when I got a bug about working with wood. The first obvious notes I see in my journal are from August, 2020. The floor to my office had been cluttered up with books for long enough that Laura asked whether I was ever going to do anything about them. That made me decide that I want to. It also made me admit that it might take a while, because I had (and still have) a lot to learn. It's something that's been percolating in my mind since I was a little kid. My dad spent most of his spare time puttering around in our garage, building something.I've done little bits and pieces since then, but most of what he taught me never clicked. Last year was almost a black hole in terms of what I remember about my job. My relationship with Mal has grown exponentially since then, and that's far more important than anything about my career. But I was thinking about this thing that probably happened in February. But it couldn't have happened in Feb 2021. That was during the ice storm. During Feb 2020, I was still flipping over and starting to get used to being on a new team at the day job. So this conversation probably happened back around Feb, 2019. Our group at our day job decided to have its quarterly hype meeting at one office. We were based in another, at the same campus. There's a shuttle that circulates, but it starts at that one, picks up people at ours, cycles through at least a couple of others, and eventually works its way back to that starting point. We were young and arrogant. We wouldn't have waited even if it had been direct. We just decided to walk. We wound up walking our way around several gigantic holes in the ground. In hindsight, this was great fun. Actually, it seemed like good clean fun while we were wandering through all these holes in the ground. While we were working our way through these obstacles, my co-worker talked about his plans to build a new desk. That re-lit a fire inside me. I grew up with a father who was always building things. I spent a lot of my childhood resenting a lot of the details behind the way those things were build. I wasted a lot of emotional anguish over really basic facts. Like the fundamental idea that a rectilinear structure can possibly be strong, when it's easy to shave off edges and add support. Or that it's worth pre-drilling holes for the screws. I like to think that I've learned a lot and grown since then. I think that that conversation may have been a turning point in my life.

A parallel universe where Mal's teeth are drama-free?

This week, I was listening to the This American Life podcast, which was about alternate universes. There's a theory that basically every time any decision is made, or something happens, a parallel universe (or more) is created where other options happened.

On Easter weekend, Mal mentioned the tooth where the cap fell off last year "tickling" when he chewed apples on that side. So, dang it, I had to make an appointment with a dentist to get it checked out.

This happened just as we realized Rudy had lost a tooth, and needed dental surgery. For him, it turned out fine. He had about 8 teeth pulled, he'd already lost 5 or 6, and now he only has maybe 12 left. Fortunately, even toothless cats can eat kibble, so now that he's all healed up, he is back to normal. This whole thing led us to a new vet, which ended up being an absolute blessing in disguise. His normal vet couldn't schedule the surgery until May 13, and I found another one who could do it the following week. Turns out, this new vet is AMAZING.

But I digress...

This is supposed to be about Malcolm's mouth.

We went to a new dentist, and I had mentioned these items of concern: 1) the tooth with the cap that fell off, 2) the tooth with the cap that is tearing up, and 3) a cavity (that's about two years old) on one of his upper molars.

They managed to get a few x-rays, but Mal was crying the whole time. When it came time to look at his teeth, he was still hysterical. The dentist was fine, but came in, looked in his mouth, and printed out a treatment plan that did not include the newish cavity, nor did she mention it. Granted, Mal was freaking out, but it seemed like an important thing to note. She also didn't seem to know he'd had a cap that fully fell off, because she was assuming his tooth was flat because he grinds his teeth, even though that information was definitely in his paperwork and I mentioned it. She said that if Mal wouldn't drink a sedative (and he won't; James and I plan to get him some therapy soon for his phobia of new experiences, sounds, flavors, textures, etc.), we'd need to do anesthesia, like we did the first time.

Unlike the first dentist's office, they did not have in-office anesthesia. (Also unlike the first dentist's office, they might actually do a good job?) So the procedure would be to book an OR at Dell Children's. Mal would have to get a physical from his pediatrician stating that he was okayed for anesthesia. Then he would have to have a Covid test two days before the work. Also, he'd be wheeled back fully awake instead of having us there to help him go under. 

This sounded like a nightmare to me.

So, in another universe, I just took a deep sigh and went along with it, because I don't want my kid's grownup teeth to be damaged.

In THIS universe, however, I decided to get a second opinion. I told the dentist's office that I was going to do that, so wasn't going to schedule the procedure. I'd talked in the past to my sister about her kids' dentist, and I read the reviews.

They include things like, "My child has Down's syndrome, and they're so good about working with him," "My daughter has anxiety about the dentist, but they filled a cavity and she never even felt it." Thing is, I've read these glowing reviews about many dentists, and have never had the kind of magical experience they're describing.

But then, we did.

We checked in from the car ('cause Covid), then the dental assistant, T, met us at the front door to check our temperatures. Mal had to go to the bathroom first thing, then we went back to the examination room. Mal was the same level of panicked as he had been at the first office, but T just chatted with him and let him relax. They talked about the goodies he could pick from when he was done, and about his other dentist's visit. 

She tried to get him to let her clean his teeth with the polisher, and let him feel the tip with his hand. When she turned it on, he recoiled, so she opened up the toothbrush he was bringing home with him and asked him what flavor of toothpaste he wanted.

He assured her that he only likes his own toothpaste, but when he found out that they had watermelon, decided to try it. It was red, unlike his, which is green, and it had grit in it. He definitely didn't like the thought of the grit, but, again, she just took so much time and brought so much joy to it that he eventually let her brush AND FLOSS his teeth. He also had to go to the restroom two more times during the visit (his doctor said this is nothing to worry about and he'll grow out of it).

When the dentist came in, she examined his teeth and he let her do a fluoride treatment! The only time he's ever had that before was when he was under anesthesia!

In the end, here's what she said: 1) The cap-off tooth doesn't have a cavity, and she's not worried about it. 2) The cap-broken tooth also doesn't have a cavity, and except that it looks uncomfortable, she doesn't see a need to remove and replace it. But if he gets calm enough, she might eventually try to smooth it out a little bit (like I've done with a glass nail file... because that's how we roll around here). 3) The hole in his upper molar isn't "dental caries," meaning it's a hole but there's no decay. He has a small cavity between that tooth and the one behind it, but she doesn't think it requires intervention at this point.

She did notice that one of his front teeth, which is loose, seems to be infected under the gum and she wants to make sure it doesn't interfere with the adult tooth, which is in place and ready to emerge. I told her we'd work on wiggling it out over the next month. The first dentist did not notice or mention this at all. And it goes a long way in explaining why that tooth looks so gray; I've always just assumed it was the crappy cap the other dentist put on a couple of years ago. It slipped a bit after about a year, and I guess that gave room for something to get in. Ugh.

Anyway, the experience was AWESOME and we scheduled another appointment for next month to get his new molars sealed. The dentist said, "If we only get one done, that's fine. We like to give them little successes, so they feel good about coming to the dentist's."

Mal was really hyper and vacillated between terrified child and stand-up comedian the whole time we were there. As we were wrapping things up, he told the doctor, "No offense, but I like her [pointing to the hygienist] style better." The assistant gave him a fist bump, and the dentist said, "The honesty..."

I'm very hopeful now, which is something I haven't been ever in the history of Mal's life with dentistry. I'm glad we're in the universe we're in rather than the alternate one where I spend the next six weeks stressed about a hospital procedure. Folks who have kids with chronic health issues have far more emotional stamina than I can imagine. 

Review: Taylor Tools Block Plane (69.5)

Unboxing

I decided that I needed a block plane and bought one from Taylor Tools.

Actually, it looks like that link is to a #60 1/2. Mine is clearly labeled a #69 1/2.

I'm sure the difference matters

 

I'm not sure how much difference there might be between the two.

They packed it thoroughly in foam before they shipped it:

Still in the box

I basically bought this plane on faith because I have not been able to dredge up details about the product. But I trust the Taylor Tools brand (and, no, I don't have any sort of affiliate deal going with them).

Opinion

Construction

This is my first block plane. I don't really have anything else to compare it to, except a few wooden planes and an ancient Stanley #5.

In particular, I was mostly worried about the bed. I've run across a lot of horror stories about those, especially in cheaper planes (based on price, I think this one seems fairly middle-of-the road).

That brass screw is really important

They claim that it's milled to a tolerance of 0.001", but that doesn't really mean much to me.

Straight out of the box, that looked really rough.

The iron doesn't actually have a lot of contact points, which seems good to me.

One end sits on the shiny greasy part toward the left on that photo. It got shinier after I wiped away the travelling grease, but I don't have a picture handy.

The other, really, sits on the shiny part on the right. It fits into a notch on the blade and moves that forward and back.

The rest of it just looks like well-seasoned cast iron. Since nothing rides on it, I don't think it matters much.

Mechanisms

Just starting to experiment

There aren't a lot of moving parts. I appreciate that. That means there aren't a lot of things to break.

The brass wheel at the front locks and unlocks the pivot lever on which controls the throat opening.

I don't know why you'd open this wide, but you could

This plane has a few layers that seem like they're probably pretty standard for locking the blade into place. The blade sits on that bed I discussed above. You can wiggle it back and forth laterally to adjust for that blade being ground out of square. A lever cap sits on top of everything and uses that brass screw to tighten it all up.

After I pulled it all apart, it took me a few days (I don't get a lot of time to work on my hobby) to find a sweet spot for the tightness of that screw. Too loose, and you get chatter...along with a screaming vibration that's worse than a fork scraping across a chalkboard. Too tight, and it becomes very difficult to lock down.

For adjusting blade depth

I don't know whether this piece is something like a Norris screw (which you cannot adjust while the blade is under tension from the lever cap) or there's a "better," more complicated lever involved that makes it safe to adjust while the lever cap is snapped into place. So far, I'm playing it safe.

Sharpening

This is the part that worried me the most.

And, let's face it, the blade is a major part of what you're buying with a plane.

I was really afraid that I'd wind up with some thick A2 plane steel that would force me to buy some powered grinding wheel.

I was thrilled at how easily this sharpens and cambers (not that I'm going to use it to hog out massive chunks) using a couple of diamond stones.

Yes, that means I'll have to sharpen it more often. But I'd much rather do that than have sharpening be a chore. If I had to invest serious time and effort into it, I'd delay it as long as possible.

Usage

I've mostly been using it in my shooting board to flatten and square up end grain.

End grain cherry shavings

 

And smoothing out sharp corners.

And scraping off things like pencil marks and blood stains.

It's small and light enough that I feel comfortable just holding the work in one hand and taking quick swipes with this in the other. 

That's really stupid of me, since it's led to slicing off layers of fingernail.

Summary

It's a nice little plane. I'm quite happy with it. Maybe someday I'll try out an expensive alternative and discover that paying a lot more would have made my life a lot easier. But, right now, this one feels pretty darn luxurious.

I got my first COVID vaccination dose today.

Hmm. There's some back-story that might be worth sharing.

Laura and I decided long ago that, once the vaccine became available, we'd stagger our doses.

There's no way we could both be down at once. We can barely keep up with Mal's needs when we're both healthy.

Laura got her second on Tuesday. She's always juggling schedules, and, last week, she bravely scheduled a dentist appointment for Mal (who foolishly admitted that one of his teeth hurts) on Wednesday.

They called her to verify everything, and they totally ignored what she'd entered online. She thought they were just repeating back what she'd already scheduled, so she went ahead and verified his appointment. At exactly the same time she was supposed to get her shot.

We talked about it, and it was in a time slot with one of the weekly meetings for my day job that I really should not miss. So she decided to reschedule it. Which happened to be on Thursday.

Her appointment wound out turning out great. Mal wanted to go with her. The appointment was halfway to her parents' house. So they spent the rest of the day there.

I mean that it worked out great for everyone except me. D got a nice, quiet day at home. I mean that it was quiet except for my sobs of loneliness.

Anyway. After they got home, she got pro-active about finding an appointment for me.

We live in a weird area. We live far enough from Austin that we really should be part of Williamson County. But we live close enough to the lake that Travis County (which includes Austin) swoops around and encompasses us.

It's the sort of thing that looks like a gerrymander. But I believe this one is motivated about greed over controlling the water rather than things like racism and voter suppression.

Anyway. I've been on Williamson's County (since all the sites are going to be closer) vaccination waiting list since Mar 29. They basically sent me a "Don't call us, we'll call you" message.

Laura found appointment slots that evening while I was busy doing other things. When I came back, she told me to pick one. And hurry: we only had 10 minutes left.

I've been told that getting one of these slots is about as rare as getting a ticket to a Springsteen concert. I cranked up the computer from my day job to check my schedule.

Our options were either Wednesday or Thursday. I didn't want to just tell everyone "I'm taking the day off" with no warning, so I picked Thursday afternoon (that also minimized the meetings I would miss...looking back I wish I'd scheduled it the other way around).

Shortly after that, she forwarded the email confirmation. They warned us to 

• wear a mask
  
• not be more than an hour early
• bring a portable chair and water
• cancel if you were running a fever
  

My appointment was for 1:30.

Google maps predicted that it would take 30-50 minutes to get there. I planned on leaving right at 11:30. Crises at day job kept me until 11:56. Then I wolfed down some pizza and fended off Mal (who wanted me to join in a great board game from Khrys and Mei Li, about a racing an ogre in a treasure hunt) and rushed out the door. 

When I got in my car, it immediately warned me that it was low on gas.

We have one gas station on the way out of town, which is really expensive. Then two more, as you get into the next town. The second of those is always really cheap. I could tell I had plenty of gas to get to it.

But Waze had me turn off that main road before I got to either. The next one is notorious for stealing credit cards. I'm hopeful that the one I stopped at after that is honest.

After that, I rushed across Austin (there were times I might have actually exceeded the speed limit, although I was just trying to keep up with the cars around me, honest) and parked just after 1:00. 

After I pulled my chair out of my trunk, a guy warned me that it wasn't worthwhile, because the line was moving fast. I took his advice and replaced the chair and my water bottle.

It was at a pretty big auditorium. Depending on where you grew up, it falls somewhere in the range of "That thing is huge!" to "Eh, my high school could have graduated there."

My guess is that it normally holds around 10,000 people. I can't find anything online to firm that up.

When the vaccines first rolled out, this place was packed. There are "By Appointment Only" signs everywhere. I went through 3 pre-checkpoints before I ever got to anyone who actually checked anything.

In the early days, people would just show up and wait. At the end of the day, workers didn't want to waste leftover doses. So they were willing to give them away to whoever was left.

It seems a lot like it was an "I'm rich/retired and can afford to just take the entire day off" version of dumpster diving at a restaurant.

When I got there, it was a lot like rushing through an empty Disney World. They kept telling me things like "Just try to keep up with that couple in front of you" and "All the way to the end of the hall, then turn..."

Everything was very carefully measured and roped off, with stickers on the floor to help make sure everyone stayed 6 feet apart.

They gave me paperwork to fill out when I first arrived and promised that I'd have plenty of time.

I didn't.

When I finally got to the end, they had a bunch of the portable tables you'd use for big family picnics set up. People were very deliberately set up katty-cornered.

I got a little overwhelmed right then and there. Thinking back to it, it hits even harder.

Those of us who have had the wealth and luxury have basically spent the past year in isolation. And this is where it can end for everyone, if we will just get the vaccine as fast as possible.

This pandemic has "only" lasted about a year and a half. As I'm writing this, it has  561,356 confirmed kills in the U.S. Cases are trending upward. Deaths were dropping, but now they're heading back up. World-wide, we're so close to 3 million deaths that I'm sure the last 4 happened while I've been typing this article.

I can't imagine what it must have felt like for people who grew up knowing that their entire village could be wiped out by something like mumps or polio or rubella. Or to know that a vaccine exists, and may be available...someday.

Or to be right on the edge of that.

Those of us who have survived have mostly put our lives on hold for a year and a half, waiting for this.

What must it have been like to just grow up knowing that something like this could wipe out everything and everyone you know? Would it be worse to know that a prevention existed...but that it would take years to reach you, if it ever did?

While I was filling out my paperwork, the line started to build. I started to read, but one of the volunteers was watching carefully and told me to get moving.

I tried to get in the back of the line (something Mal will have to learn about someday), but that line was for people who were still filling out their paperwork and didn't show up early enough to get tables like mine to sit at.

I zipped through the rest of the queue, answered a couple of questions about ancient bad reactions to immunizations (spoiler alert: getting sick enough to spend a weekend crashed on the couch isn't enough to matter if EMTs weren't involved), and got a quick shot in my shoulder.

I probably didn't really feel it. But my brain totally insists that I felt tiny little crystalline stars sprinkling down my arm.

They gave me a grown-up card. And a sticker. And directed me to a waiting area to make sure I didn't have an immediate life-threatening reaction. We were very sternly warned to be responsible and wait 15 minutes before leaving.

This was the first chance I'd had to even let Laura know that I'd arrived OK.

I sent her a message, then played a pointless game for about 10 minutes.

Then they walked through and told us that we were welcome to wait the entire 15 minutes if we liked. But, assuming we didn't have any major pre-existing conditions, 5-10 minutes were plenty.

I was a little miffed that it was closer to 10 than 5. But, hey, I got a few more minutes at that stupid game. So I guess it was worth it.

I headed out.

On the way out of the neighborhood, I noticed a gentleman with darker skin and dreadlocks. I gave him a subtle wave, and I got a surly glare in response.

Laura and I both feel bad about the basic fact that we live in White World. Neither of us likes it. We both do our best to be friendly to all our neighbors...and especially to our neighbors who aren't as challenged as we are in terms of sun tolerance.

I drove a little further, and I realized that this is the area of Austin where Laura and I both wish we lived.

It doesn't have the giant oak and beautiful back yard. But the people who live there aren't going to poison Mal's ideas about good and bad just because they have the same skin color. Or maybe they will, but in what I consider the "right" direction.

I really want a workshop where I can build things out of the wind and rain.

I don't know how likely it is that I'll be able to build one where we are now, much less if we moved there.

But it's really tempting to look into it.

On the way home, I spent a lot of time behind an SUV. It had a sign in its back window. It said: "Have you noticed that 'pandemic' is 'dem' surrounded by 'panic'?"

I really wanted to pull these people over and ask whether they've noticed that half a million Americans are dead. I wish I knew how many this amounted to world-wide. Headlines suggest that cases are spiraling out of control in India.

I got home in time to break out my latest wood-working project. I'm building a thing to crush fruit.

I spent about an hour on that before rain started splattering down.

I put all my gear back away and headed inside.

Laura showed me pictures of hailstones from nearby.

They're about the size of goose eggs or pool balls.

Worrying about a pandemic seems easier.

Puppy Fever

We've been talking about and thinking about getting a puppy for months. D is not in favor at all, and I understand that. When we adopted Shelby, it was a last-minute decision, and we were just not prepared. Little did we know that some of Shelby's habits would prove to be triggers for D's mysophonia, namely the barking and the constant snoring (even when awake).

So this time, I wanted to make sure we knew what we were getting in to. Although in the past, I've always adopted animals, in order for this to work in our house with the two very special children I have (and the elderly cats), we needed to get a young pup who could be socialized in our home and grow up with our house's rhythms.

Also, we needed a dog without likely breathing issues, and one that doesn't bark (much). This shrunk our pool of options considerably, and since I am already familiar with sighthounds, that seemed like a good choice. I got on a waiting list for a borzoi up in Missouri, and I tried to get on a waiting list for a Scottish Deerhound up in Dallas (I never heard back from the breeder after the initial contact).

This past weekend, though, I found a very reputable whipped breeder in Dallas who is planning a litter in June. Although we found them through AKC, they seem to cater more to people who plan to have the dogs as pets rather than showing them, and this was a plus. I really liked the borzoi breeder, but she made it clear that she loves to have "her" dogs involved in the AKC on some level, and that's just not really my thing.

We actually put down a deposit and are in line to get our dog in August!

I'd already been purchasing some gear, and went ahead and ordered almost everything else we needed except for the food items. We've already moved the cats food to where we want to keep it so they'll have a private dining space once there's a puppy in the house. In late July, I'll put up the baby gates so they'll get used to those without having the dog to contend with.

One interesting thing is that the pair of dogs that is supposed to be paired has a litter of bi-eyed puppies. It'll be interesting to see if ours is.

Oh! Another VERY cool thing is that the breeder sets up a live feed when the mama puppy goes into labor. If we're awake, we'll get to see them all whelped. Then we can keep an eye on them when they're in the birthing nest until it's time to pick the dog up. We don't know whether we're getting a male or female, or what it will look like. We aren't super picky, so it's just fine that we're toward the bottom of this list. We just want a sweet pet!

We'll be spending the next four months getting everything (and ourselves) ready. We definitely need to take the cats in to get their vaccinations up to date (Rudy is good, as he's just now had dental surgery like five hours ago -- so he's been caught up) and give them time to calm back down before we introduce a new animal. And I'm learning lots of stuff on YouTube and podcasts that I think will be helpful. If I can remember all of it.