Sunday, January 13, 2013


The cat is learning that the new addition to the family will disrupt his life. We've explained to him that there is a baby coming, we've shown him the ultrasounds, he's sniffed around the many baby things already been given to us, but the reality hit home when we started to move around furniture to turn the office into a nursery. He was not amused.

When we first found this apartment, we couldn't believe our luck that it had 3 bedrooms. That meant one bedroom for us, a guestroom and an office - almost unheard of in a reasonable price range (without roommates) in NYC. But now one of those extra rooms has to go. With both our families out of the country, and friends scattered around the globe, we can't (won't) give up the guest room, which means the office is the weakest link.

The office really was H's office. I think I sat in there once. It is tiny, but baby won't mind.

H. believes in literary segregation, which means his books needed to be away from mine, in a climate controlled room of their own with an armed guard. But times are tough, and this little room is perfect for baby.

Unwilling to throw all these books away (90% of which, I might add, were dragged over the ocean, through the skies in suitcases over a series of visits back to London), we moved the bookcases into our bedroom. Now H's books sleep with us, so H. can keep a watchful eye on them.

What was this:

Is now this:

And what was this:

Is now this:

And now this guy watches me sleep:

I haunt your dreams.
As does this guy:

Tolstoy, not so scary.

And what has become of the office? I guess that's to come.


  1. Your husband has an impressive collection of books. Not gonna lie, I'm a wee bit jealous.

  2. He's quite bookish - did a PhD in philosophy and is now a book editor. Books just follow him home!


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