Freakishly massive rabbits

Several of my friends on Facebook posted links to this photo a few days ago, and although I don't think it looks real, apparently it is. That's one huge rabbit. The North Koreans are buying some of them from German breeders to increase their food supplies. I'd think smaller rabbits would be easier to breed and raise -- and less likely to attack people who were trying to eat them -- but since I don't live in a famine-ravaged country, I guess I'll keep my mouth shut.

How to downsize a holiday

I must admit I've found most of the news coverage of people planning more austere holiday celebrations to be a bit much. But I thought this New York Times story was quite good.
And if anyone does decide to serve twice-baked potatoes at their holiday party, I suggest Jill's recipe here.

Giving thanks

I'm thankful for Kevin and everything he does for me. I'm thankful for many other things, too, of course, but that's the obvious one I feel like mentioning at the moment.

Good for Michelle Obama

I saw a news story about her telling the White House staff to let her daughters make their own beds. Perhaps the little Obamas would be willing to come and set an example for my little Friloux.

Confessions of a 7-Year-Old Drama Queen

My mother has been bugging me for years to write a best-seller. I'm thinking when I get around to it, this might be the title. What's sad is that most of the drama in our house these days is over food -- as in Laura constantly wants to eat things I won't let her eat.
I won't have this problem with the next one. (Yeah, right. I know I'm fooling myself.)

There is only one baby inside Mommy

Kevin had convinced himself over the past few weeks that I was pregnant with twins. There were legitimate reasons for this, but I was somewhat concerned when I started wondering about it myself. (Those who were around for Laura's birth and its aftermath will understand my concern.)
But I was on medevac in Miami for various prenatal tests the past few days, and a high-definition ultrasound shows there really is only one baby. It'll be another four weeks or so before we'll know whether it's a he or a she, though.
But here's a shot of him/her:

Possible name for the new baby

Our friends the Norbergs left this morning. At least most of them did. June, William and Johan are on their way to Florida; Chad will be here another week and a half. (June and the kids will be living in Florida for the next year while Chad goes to Baghdad to work in the embassy's economic section.)
So we were going over to see them yesterday -- but not before Laura and I had this exchange:
L: Mom, I think if the new baby is a boy, we should name him William.
Z: Why is that?
L: So I'll always be able to remember him.
Z: Well, my dad's name is William, too.
L: Yeah, him, too.
I don't think we'll be naming the baby William even if it is a boy. But I guess there's time to change my mind.

The New York Times in Trinidad

I've walked and driven past this house literally hundreds of times in the year we've been here. Today's New York Times has a story on it -- and why it's likely to be torn down if it ever sells.

I could eat this stuff by the gallon

You'd think that, today being my birthday, I'd be talking about ice cream or something of the like. No, it's garlic-herb sauce for fish.
My friend Jill had the recipe on her food blog back in February, and I just got around to making it yesterday.
And even though I had it with salmon burgers, not a fancier fish, and even though I adjusted it (to exclude the wine, since we don't drink, and the dill, which I didn't have), it was glorious.
Then I made honey-lime chicken enchiladas for dinner last night. I know, I'm frighteningly domestic. But I'm not making my own birthday cake. I'm hoping someone brings one home.

Election Day. Election Day. Oh I how I love Election Day.

I was born on Election Day. Yes, that was 1972, the day Nixon was re-elected president.
Growing up, we often got out of school on Election Day. That made it pretty cool.
As a newspaper editor, I almost always had to work Election Day (except in 2000, when it was my birthday again). That meant voting early in the day and being at work until the wee hours of the morning when races were called.
Of course, none of those are in play this year. It's not my birthday, I don't go to school anymore (not that schools are closed anyway), and I'm not a newspaper editor anymore.
The lead-in to the presidential election this year has been excruciating. It's gone on forever, and I don't think I'm alone in just wishing it would be over.
But even so, I'm thankful I'm an American, where we get to vote, our votes actually mean something, and the changeovers are orderly.
So, whoever's president-elect in the morning, I look forward to BBC Radio eventually talking about something else.

Yes, this really is a photo of me holding a python

It was at our friend William's birthday party yesterday. And no, I didn't volunteer to hold the thing; I just was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not that it was scary, just not something I'd normally choose to do.