Please note the new and snazzy blog site that I have created. OK, fine, it is not really that new and not very snazzy, but in my defense I am a very uncreative and not too computer savvy dude. I should be given credit for the fact that I did make some changes and did not completely melt the internet, which I do have the power to do. What Al Gore giveth, so can I taketh away. (Betcha didn’t know that huh?)
As the new title of the blog indicates, we have expanded the scope of this blog to cover the entirety of the California Baker Clan. Many of you are familiar with this genetically superior offshoot of other clans, and are giddy with anticipation to be able to finally be able to follow all of your favorite California Bakers as they travel down this crazy road. Granted the road is crazy cuz the driver of the bus done lost his mind many many moons ago.
Now that the platitudes, beatitudes, and all the other *tudes have been extolled, we can get down to brass tacks (what a strange expression. The origin of this expression is currently being hotly debated on the interweb as we speak. More details to follow as they become available. Back to you Skip).
I will give a detailed, albeit a slightly loony, update on Cole in subsequent postings, but we have bigger news to report here at channel me.
Of course the big news is that on or about March 1, 2012 at approximately 10:00 am PST, we evicted(I would normally put a footnote marker here but not sure how that works when I covert this to the blog, and since I don’t want to destroy everyone’s favorite internet, I will just give credit to this expression to one Elisa Baker) our newest clan member, Oliver Aren Baker.
The tale of the tape:
--weight: 8lbs 9.2oz
--hair: more than me
Oliver (or Ollie Tamale as Colie Guacamole likes to call him) is doing very well thus far and has already started teasing Cole and Logan that he has his own room while they have to share. Elisa is also, of course, doing remarkably well.
I am reveling in being a new dad again. I just love holding that little ball of wrinkles and strange body noises because he is too young to tell me that my singing is horrendous and that I should really stop. He also can’t tell me that my stories are boring. In fact he seems to be totally enthralled with my stories, especially my explanations of various economic principals and philosophies (granted, that could just be gas on his part).
Hey, do you think that they name pancakes “pancakes” so that it would trick kids into thinking that they were having cake for breakfast? Odviously adults cannot be trusted to be around pancakes alone, and should always have supervision.
Well ok then, I think that my brain has leaked onto this paper enuf for the day. We will talk again later. In the meantime, please raise your glasses and toast the California Bakers, the odvious successors to the
5 legacy. Jackson