Howdy! Azja Kathleen here after a rather long period of blog silence. Not that I myself have been inactive, nor have my parents. In fact, their recent burst of constant activity is the primary cause of my blog absence, as well as the impetus for my busy wanderings throughout my cramped quarters. So what have we been up to lately? Well, since you asked, I feel obliged to relate to you the ongoing adventures of the Pennsylvania Dunhams.
As you may have noticed from my previous blogs, Mom and Dad have been hard at work lately improving the house. They improved the yard with flowers, grass, and a fountain. They improved the back room by turning it into a functional work shed. They improved the guest room by turning into a nursery. And now they focused their attentions on the living room. Mom has always disliked the red carpet in the living room. It had always been extremely efficient at collecting Eddy the Dog's hair, and the best option they had for dealing with the atrociousness until recently was a rug that wrinkled down the middle in a manner especially frustrating to Dad (who possibly suffers a very mild case of obsessive compulsive disorder - he alphabetizes the records and DVDs and even sorted the movies by genre - I have some organization ideas of my own involving the floor and drool that he's probably going to strongly object to when the time comes). They felt they were on a roll lately with all the other house projects and decided it was time to finally rip up the carpet and lay down a wooden floor.
Roll out the red carpet - right out the front door and into the trash! Mom and Dad were pretty excited about ripping up their first strip of carpet. 
With maniacal glee, Dad used a razor blade to cut a long exclamation point to accentuate the end of years of frustration with the Eddy hairnet that had adorned the living room since moving to Pennsylvania. Then, after prying up the tack-board lining the perimeter and the staples that held the carpet pad in place, they were able to sweep up the newly bare floor and marvel at the carpetlessness of the front quarter of the living room. There was relief I could actually feel through Mom's body, and the project had officially begun. Dad was also excited about once again being able to use some of the awesome tools Grandpa Dunham had given him over the years. Mom and Dad became an efficient floor-laying machine. Mom would measure and Dad would cut. The kitchen was utilized as the board-cutting workshop, which quickly led to the filthiest kitchen Mom had ever seen - but that was a problem for later. The front of the living room was the most difficult, as it had several tricky borders that Dad had to navigate with a jigsaw puzzle. I don't quite understand what that had to do with cutting, but apparently Dad felt he was pretty good with this part (I can't tell you whether or not this is the truth, having no ability to see for myself at this point).
They finished the front of the living room (the hardest part) on a Friday night,
giving them great confidence that the rest of room could be completed throughout the rest of the weekend. It was quite rainy this weekend, so it worked out well that the project they had in mind was indoors (and that the workshop had been set up in the kitchen, even if this was originally to Mom's dismay). 
The only one not happy with the rapid 
progess was Eddy the Dog, as he kept lying directly in front of the path of the boards as Dad put them in place. Perhaps he was upset about no longer having a soft spot to sleep wherever he felt like falling. Perhaps he felt like Mom and Dad were under-challanged and needed a further obstacle. Or perhaps he was just confused and truly trying (and continuously failing miserably) to
stay out of the way. Whatever the reasoning, he seems to have now abandoned any previously held animosity, as he now happily tap-dances around the new wooden living room floor at all hours of the day. Clickety-clack clickety-clack clickety-clack snort sneeze thump - that's the sound of Eddy the Dog finding a spot on the new floor on which to sleep. Mom and Dad finished the floor on Saturday night and were free to enjoy their new living room by Sunday (after cleaning up somewhat, that is - remember that the kitchen was a filthy mess that seemed beyond the conception of cleanliness at this point). Luckily they were afforded a modicum of relaxation and respite Sunday evening, as the week to follow would be quite the whirlwind of demanding activity - Dad would be in Chicago at a plastics exposition most of the week and Mom would be left at home to prepare the house for guests arriving in less than a week's time.
Before I move on to the details of that visit, I had to include a picture Dad captured before leaving for Chicago.
In a previous blog I mentioned the groundhog family we have living around our house, and Dad had included a picture of three of them roaming the hillside viewable from the guestroom window. Unfortunately, the critters were difficult to discern in such a distant view through the veil of the window screen. The same animals, however, have other entrances to their underground domain, and one of these is in the side yard beyond Mom and Dad's hammock. Dad was in the right place at the right time and was able to snap this excellent picture of the groundhog he calls Dave catching a bit of sun atop our neighbor's concrete porch wall. Just in case you were wondering, the other two groundies have been dubbed Gertrude and Rasputin. They really like apples and the paper plates the apples are served on - they seem to hold both in the same regard with respect to edibility.
The next Friday saw the return of Dad. I was quite excited about this, as Dad has now gotten in the habit of reading to me each night before falling asleep. He is currently favoring the tales of Edgar Allen Poe (which are not all as morbid and melancholy as most would fear but do contain enough French, Latin, Italian, and general linguistic flexibility to present nightly storytelling challenges for Dad to overcome - he's getting pretty good at this point), but sometimes he switches things up with some mythology, Nietzsche, and Plato. Plato's dialogues are especially entertaining, as Dad assigns funny voices to the men Socrates challenges to logistic sparring matches. I feel my blog-writing ability has also benefited from these nightly excursions into the world of classical literature and philosophy. Mom says she can tell that I am at least interested from time to time - so that's something, right? Actually, Mom also enjoys Dad's bedtime stories, as it helps her fall asleep, and I make it increasingly hard for her to find fruitful rest these days.
On top of this, Dad was now able to take a little burden from Mom's shoulders in preparing the house for guests (not that he really had that long to help out, but every little bit helps). That night Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen arrived. They had spent the week in New York City where they were able to, among other things, attend a taping of The Late Show with David Letterman. The guests on this particular show were Johnny Depp, who is apparently a very appealing man, and Megan Fox, who is apparently a very appealing woman. So that was pretty exciting. Johnny Depp had even signed some autographs after the show, which allowed Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen to get some pretty close-up pictures. Everyone seemed to agree that he was just as attractive and interesting in person as he is in the movies. Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen also visited a museum where they saw some famous paintings like Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. After all that culture and excitement what a better place to spend the weekend than Pottsville, Pennsylvania! Okay, so maybe this isn't the culture capital of the world, but Mom and Dad have something for which many city-dwellers hold a decent amount of respect from time to time: relative peace and quiet. Mom and Dad's firepit area, with its scenic overlook of the valley in which Pottsville resides and quiet nature-filled isolation from the row-home lined streets below, offers quite the getaway without having to leave behind the modern conveniences of home.
While here, Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen were able to take in some outdoor cinema (including the classic sasquatch documentary 'The Legend of Boggy Creek' which is so bad it couldn't even be endured under the pretext of campy hilarity), visit the Clover Hill winery (where they learned of the Broadway and
Marx Brothers connection to Pottsville's history), play some Rock Band (where Uncle Greg was able to wail away on some classic Stone Roses and channel the spirit of 60's Bob Dylan), and take in 18 holes of Heisler's putt-putt. They missed Cousin Lily, this being their first trip away from her, who had just turned one. But the relaxation they found was clearly welcome. Plus they got to play lawn darts for the first time ever while visiting Mom and Dad's friends Jay and Hallie. This is a game that is so dangerous it can no longer be sold in stores in which you toss weighted darts towards each other trying to stick them in the ground closest to a plastic ring. Mom and Dad said it was like horseshoes but pointier and with a better chance at winning money on America's funniest home videos (or at least visiting the hospital). It seems the highlights of the visit were a pitching golf game Uncle Greg and Dad came up with where they tried to hit practice balls from the upper level of the side yard into a dog dish in front of the movie screen and a sign outside a church on the way to Heisler's that had to be seen to be believed (as I did not see it, I find it hard to believe, but I tend to take Mom and Dad's word on these kinds of things). Pictures of both highlights are to the left along with a picture of Uncle Greg playing some Wii baseball (which left both Uncle Greg and Dad a little sore for the next couple days). It was great having Aunt Karen and Uncle Greg up to Pennsylvania, especially during such beautiful and enjoyable weather, and it was sad having to bid them farewell. I can't wait to meet them in person someday, rather than simply hear them through a belly quietly, to twist a literary expression.
Our next adventure was a 4th of July lake trip in upstate New York, but that is a tale for a different blog. Until then, I'm Azja Kathleen Dunham and you're not (that's one from way before my time!).
See you in August,
Azja
With maniacal glee, Dad used a razor blade to cut a long exclamation point to accentuate the end of years of frustration with the Eddy hairnet that had adorned the living room since moving to Pennsylvania. Then, after prying up the tack-board lining the perimeter and the staples that held the carpet pad in place, they were able to sweep up the newly bare floor and marvel at the carpetlessness of the front quarter of the living room. There was relief I could actually feel through Mom's body, and the project had officially begun. Dad was also excited about once again being able to use some of the awesome tools Grandpa Dunham had given him over the years. Mom and Dad became an efficient floor-laying machine. Mom would measure and Dad would cut. The kitchen was utilized as the board-cutting workshop, which quickly led to the filthiest kitchen Mom had ever seen - but that was a problem for later. The front of the living room was the most difficult, as it had several tricky borders that Dad had to navigate with a jigsaw puzzle. I don't quite understand what that had to do with cutting, but apparently Dad felt he was pretty good with this part (I can't tell you whether or not this is the truth, having no ability to see for myself at this point).They finished the front of the living room (the hardest part) on a Friday night,
giving them great confidence that the rest of room could be completed throughout the rest of the weekend. It was quite rainy this weekend, so it worked out well that the project they had in mind was indoors (and that the workshop had been set up in the kitchen, even if this was originally to Mom's dismay). 
The only one not happy with the rapid 
progess was Eddy the Dog, as he kept lying directly in front of the path of the boards as Dad put them in place. Perhaps he was upset about no longer having a soft spot to sleep wherever he felt like falling. Perhaps he felt like Mom and Dad were under-challanged and needed a further obstacle. Or perhaps he was just confused and truly trying (and continuously failing miserably) to
stay out of the way. Whatever the reasoning, he seems to have now abandoned any previously held animosity, as he now happily tap-dances around the new wooden living room floor at all hours of the day. Clickety-clack clickety-clack clickety-clack snort sneeze thump - that's the sound of Eddy the Dog finding a spot on the new floor on which to sleep. Mom and Dad finished the floor on Saturday night and were free to enjoy their new living room by Sunday (after cleaning up somewhat, that is - remember that the kitchen was a filthy mess that seemed beyond the conception of cleanliness at this point). Luckily they were afforded a modicum of relaxation and respite Sunday evening, as the week to follow would be quite the whirlwind of demanding activity - Dad would be in Chicago at a plastics exposition most of the week and Mom would be left at home to prepare the house for guests arriving in less than a week's time.Before I move on to the details of that visit, I had to include a picture Dad captured before leaving for Chicago.
In a previous blog I mentioned the groundhog family we have living around our house, and Dad had included a picture of three of them roaming the hillside viewable from the guestroom window. Unfortunately, the critters were difficult to discern in such a distant view through the veil of the window screen. The same animals, however, have other entrances to their underground domain, and one of these is in the side yard beyond Mom and Dad's hammock. Dad was in the right place at the right time and was able to snap this excellent picture of the groundhog he calls Dave catching a bit of sun atop our neighbor's concrete porch wall. Just in case you were wondering, the other two groundies have been dubbed Gertrude and Rasputin. They really like apples and the paper plates the apples are served on - they seem to hold both in the same regard with respect to edibility.The next Friday saw the return of Dad. I was quite excited about this, as Dad has now gotten in the habit of reading to me each night before falling asleep. He is currently favoring the tales of Edgar Allen Poe (which are not all as morbid and melancholy as most would fear but do contain enough French, Latin, Italian, and general linguistic flexibility to present nightly storytelling challenges for Dad to overcome - he's getting pretty good at this point), but sometimes he switches things up with some mythology, Nietzsche, and Plato. Plato's dialogues are especially entertaining, as Dad assigns funny voices to the men Socrates challenges to logistic sparring matches. I feel my blog-writing ability has also benefited from these nightly excursions into the world of classical literature and philosophy. Mom says she can tell that I am at least interested from time to time - so that's something, right? Actually, Mom also enjoys Dad's bedtime stories, as it helps her fall asleep, and I make it increasingly hard for her to find fruitful rest these days.
On top of this, Dad was now able to take a little burden from Mom's shoulders in preparing the house for guests (not that he really had that long to help out, but every little bit helps). That night Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen arrived. They had spent the week in New York City where they were able to, among other things, attend a taping of The Late Show with David Letterman. The guests on this particular show were Johnny Depp, who is apparently a very appealing man, and Megan Fox, who is apparently a very appealing woman. So that was pretty exciting. Johnny Depp had even signed some autographs after the show, which allowed Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen to get some pretty close-up pictures. Everyone seemed to agree that he was just as attractive and interesting in person as he is in the movies. Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen also visited a museum where they saw some famous paintings like Van Gogh's 'Starry Night'. After all that culture and excitement what a better place to spend the weekend than Pottsville, Pennsylvania! Okay, so maybe this isn't the culture capital of the world, but Mom and Dad have something for which many city-dwellers hold a decent amount of respect from time to time: relative peace and quiet. Mom and Dad's firepit area, with its scenic overlook of the valley in which Pottsville resides and quiet nature-filled isolation from the row-home lined streets below, offers quite the getaway without having to leave behind the modern conveniences of home.
While here, Uncle Greg and Aunt Karen were able to take in some outdoor cinema (including the classic sasquatch documentary 'The Legend of Boggy Creek' which is so bad it couldn't even be endured under the pretext of campy hilarity), visit the Clover Hill winery (where they learned of the Broadway and
Marx Brothers connection to Pottsville's history), play some Rock Band (where Uncle Greg was able to wail away on some classic Stone Roses and channel the spirit of 60's Bob Dylan), and take in 18 holes of Heisler's putt-putt. They missed Cousin Lily, this being their first trip away from her, who had just turned one. But the relaxation they found was clearly welcome. Plus they got to play lawn darts for the first time ever while visiting Mom and Dad's friends Jay and Hallie. This is a game that is so dangerous it can no longer be sold in stores in which you toss weighted darts towards each other trying to stick them in the ground closest to a plastic ring. Mom and Dad said it was like horseshoes but pointier and with a better chance at winning money on America's funniest home videos (or at least visiting the hospital). It seems the highlights of the visit were a pitching golf game Uncle Greg and Dad came up with where they tried to hit practice balls from the upper level of the side yard into a dog dish in front of the movie screen and a sign outside a church on the way to Heisler's that had to be seen to be believed (as I did not see it, I find it hard to believe, but I tend to take Mom and Dad's word on these kinds of things). Pictures of both highlights are to the left along with a picture of Uncle Greg playing some Wii baseball (which left both Uncle Greg and Dad a little sore for the next couple days). It was great having Aunt Karen and Uncle Greg up to Pennsylvania, especially during such beautiful and enjoyable weather, and it was sad having to bid them farewell. I can't wait to meet them in person someday, rather than simply hear them through a belly quietly, to twist a literary expression.Our next adventure was a 4th of July lake trip in upstate New York, but that is a tale for a different blog. Until then, I'm Azja Kathleen Dunham and you're not (that's one from way before my time!).
See you in August,
Azja
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