The Fastest Slowest Time

A colleague, and father to a wee one himself, wrote me a congratulatory email in which he declared that this would prove the fastest slowest time I would experience.

He spoke the truth.

TZog has only been with us for three months, but it feels that we have always had him.

I hardly remember him smaller - he's grown so much so quickly - but he's still so little!

Sometimes Tuesdays feel three days long, but I inevitably stare down each Saturday wondering where the week went.

As I emerge from the haze of late nights, early mornings and long days, I more fully realize that we have the privilege of watching TZog show us who he is - a smiling, singing, squirming little bear of a boy who has stolen our hearts.

Though I find now that many tasks and projects either take far longer than anticipated or fall by the wayside altogether, I have so far successfully insisted that each month we have family photo day to document the dynamic Zog tribe. Also, I realized that if did not set aside time to take photos together (with the help of a remote, a tripod and KZog) that I would have very few pictures of me with TZog, since I snap the bulk of the photos. Our attempts at capturing this fastest slowest time:

1 Month

2 Months

3 Months

XO,
JZog

And Now, What You've All Been Waiting For . . .

Over the last week and a half I have attempted to craft a new blog post between feedings, diaper changes, naps, and tummy time. Sometime yesterday, though, it occurred to me that: 1. It may realistically take me another week to render a coherent post, and 2. At this point, as clever a writer as I may be, what everyone is really interested in is more photos of TZog (and understandably so - he is quite the handsome little man!).

Without further ado, I present to you what you've all been waiting for:

One of His Favorite Naptime Places

Hold Your Head High!

Enjoying His Daily Live Concert

Chillin'

Mmmmmm

                           

'Til next time . . . 

XO,

JZog

Welcome, TZog!

Announcing TZog!

TZog arrived early Wednesday morning September 3, weighing in at an unexpected 8 pounds, 11 ounces and 20 inches long. We had quite a long adventure in labor and delivery, and the journey did not transpire quite as I had hoped. Suffice it to say that MamaZog needed an assist that required transfer from our birth center to the hospital. Though it sounds dramatic, and it felt so in the moment, at no time were either of us in an emergency situation.

Going Home

TZog's Sentry

The Zogs returned home Thursday afternoon, greeted by Pepperoni Pizza the Wonderpup and GmaR. Everyone continues to heal and enjoy getting to know one another.

TZog's World

Many thanks to all of our well-wishers, whether in person, via email, snail mail or phone. We look forward to sharing all of our new exploits with you!

XO,

JZog

LZog's Nest

In keeping with our avoidance of the conventional pink and blue, and even the neutrals, green, grey, and yellow, we present LZog's Nest in the aesthetic that I have dubbed Accidental Vintage (™ pending). We have some new items for LZog, but most everything we either made, acquired as the repository for family furniture and all manner of hand-me-downs, or some combination thereof. For now we have a Pack 'N Play in lieu of a crib (thank you Grandma and Papa), as KZog hopes to make LZog's crib/bed his second major carpentry project. Otherwise we have kept LZog's space fairly simple. Yes, we do have a television in the nursery for me during late night feedings and soothings. We will remove it once LZog decides to sleep through the night.

As Much of the Nest As I Could Capture in One Shot

While we feel pretty good about how LZog's space has evolved, both KZog and I will claim more than a small amount of pride in our family photo project. No, I did not find an example of this on Pintrest, though I suppose I would not feign surprise if I found that someone had already done a similar display in more spectacular (i.e.: expensive) fashion. The most taxing part of completing LZog's Family Album proved compiling the photos. In the end, however, we have baby, or at least childhood, photos of each of our siblings, parents, aunts and uncles, and grandparents.

Who Will LZog Favor?

Each row follows a branch of LZog's family tree. KZog, me, and our siblings have the bottom row; our  parents, aunts and uncles grace the middle; and grandparents, the top row. We also discovered photos of KZog's great great aunt and great grandfather who arrived in the United States in 1908 from Holland through Ellis Island. After scanning and printing each photo, I created frames for each (thank you to JHet for help configuring them) and tags with the full name, birthdate, and relationship to LZog. Any information about the photo itself - date, other people, location - I wrote on the back of the frame.

LZog's Family Album

I decided early on that I would prefer  to have a glider in LZog's room, but I did not prefer to spend the $400 or more it would cost for a new one. Luckily, due to our embrace of the Accidental Vintage (™) aesthetic, we already had two in the house for me to choose from. I settled on one that  KZog's family had long ago dubbed "Uncle Harry's Spider Chair." Though we cannot place an exact age on the chair, we have seen them in photographs from as early as the mid-1950s. Unfortunately, poor Uncle Harry's chair does not seem to have undergone any refurbishing since at least that time. Underneath the orangish-brown fabric, itchy and dated, the cushion material had begun to disintegrate. I landed on a gold fabric with a raised circle pattern to keep with the vintage-y vibe of the piece and ordered custom foam cushions to replace the icky ones. The frame of the glider also underwent some rehab, namely the detachment of the complementary orangish-brown ruffle from the bottom and a rub-down with Murphy's Oil Soap.

KZog Disassembling the Ruffle

The Original Fabric

Honestly, this project took me far, far longer than I care to admit. I only followed a pattern in the sense that I deconstructed the pieces from the old cover, and I worried that it wouldn't all quite go back together. In the end it all turned out better than fine, though not without repeated stabbing of my fingers with the pins holding all the layers of fabric together.

Hooray for a Sunny, Comfy Glider

I also made an ottoman to accompany my "new" glider with fabric from my ever-expanding stash and over fifteen pounds of stuffing.

Feet Propper Upper

So, LZog, we have the necessaries for your homecoming - a place for you to sleep, places to hold your clothes and other accessories, and a place for us to rock, feed, and read to you. We won't say we're "ready" for you, whatever that means, but we are ready to have you here with us.

XO,
JZog
Click Here if You Would Like to Check Out LZog's Registry

The Waiting Game/Pregnant and Public Property

Considerably less fun than the name game is the waiting game. Despite all my attempts to distract myself, I find myself obsessed with when LZog will decide to debut. Now? Maybe now? And what about now? Avoidance behavior worked far better when in relationship to the dissertation . . .

Everyone knows we are waiting. And most everyone has something to say about it.

Take the following dialogue, which happened late last week between myself and a seventy-year-old-ish woman with whom I have exchanged maybe twenty words over the five years we have lived two blocks away from her (not out of spite, only a matter of interest and convenience, I suppose). As I may have mentioned before, something about having a pregnant belly renders people senseless in conversation. Also worth noting, this entire exchange occurred with me in the street walking Pepperoni Pizza the Wonderpup and she shouting at me from the confines of her garage.

Garage Lady: "Haven't you had that baby yet?"

Me - Internal Monologue: Well clearly, no, I haven't. Either that or I have replaced my pregnant belly with a cyst the size of a watermelon. Perhaps I should look down at my belly and start screaming "Oh my gosh! There's a baby in there?" Or maybe, look down and say, "Yeah, I left him at home. It's too difficult to walk both the baby and the dog." Instead it proceeded this way:

Me: "Nope." 

Garage Lady: "When's it gonna be here?"

Me: "Whenever it's ready."

Silence. Not the answer she expected, I suspect. Of course, since I have not scheduled an induction or c-section, I have no idea when LZog will be here. I could have toned down the snark a tad. However, the inanity of asking whether or not I have had LZog when it seems quite obvious that I have not, affects me even more deeply as we see the lights flickering at the end of the tunnel, er, canal. For future reference to all of you who may encounter a pregnant woman ever: no matter how clever you may be or think you are, refrain from commenting on said woman's size, state of mind, or arrival of the little one. She may or may not react mildly.

But, this encounter proved nothing compared with the borderline assault the next day during the puppy walk. I thought I would be so, so smart and take a different route. Lesson learned.

In what at first appeared a redux of the previous day, it began with a different seventy-year-old-ish lady hollering at us (did I neglect to mention that KZog got to enjoy this one live and in person, too?) from her front yard while we walked the dog.

Yard Lady: "I'm ready for you to have that baby."

Me - Internal Monologue: Lady, I hardly know you from Adam. I've not shared a beer with you, and you don't know how to say or spell my last name. We are not friends.

Me: "Ok."

Yard Lady: "Is it a boy or a girl?"

KZog: "We decided to wait to find out."

Yard Lady: Gaining speed out of front yard, towards us. "Oh really? Looks like a boy to me." Still lumbering towards us.

Me - Internal Monologue: Holy crap, why is this woman scooting towards me with her arms out! Pepperoni Pizza, you better jump all over her so I can move out of the way. I should really not allow my eighty pound labrador to knock over an older woman, but . . .

Me: "The baby's already dropped, there really isn't anything to - - -whoa, whoa, whoa, Pepperoni . . . " (I attempt to waddle away, while my dog wiggles towards Yard Lady to lick her. This woman really, really wants to touch my belly, and I really, really want to run away.)

Yard Lady: "Well if I just - - - -"

Me: "I really don't like people touching my belly. And Pepperoni Pizza doesn't like it either."

And where did I find KZog during all this? Watching in amazement. I really cannot blame him, though.  I wouldn't have believed this entire event had I not experienced it.

Seriously. That I should have to explain that I don't want people I know not well palpating my very pregnant belly and, really, therefore, my kiddo, completely baffles me. When LZog arrives, I will bodily harm random people who run up and squish his body parts, so guess what, they don't get to do so now. Also, a question to well-meaning but misguided neighbors, random people in retail shops, and grocery store checkers of the world: what exactly do you win if you correctly guess, unsolicited, the sex of my kiddo, who you will likely never meet? Congratulations! You just made a prediction with a 50/50 chance of success! Impress me by predicting where LZog will go to college or something.

We have fewer than two weeks until the "official" due date, which means LZog could arrive any time or three weeks from now. I have much updating needed here on all the lovely gifts you have sent for LZog as well as photos of the nursery and more of my many mini projects. In other words, plenty of posting to keep me busy . . .

XO,
JZog
To Take a Look at LZog's Registry, Click Here!  

The Name Game

Zog, Zog, Bo Bog, Fa-nananana, Fo Fog, Me Mi Mo Mog - Zog!

Shirley Ellis - "The Name Game"

With LZog now at over 37 weeks (and me at over 37 weeks of enormous, oy!), the name game reigns as the favorite in the Zog household. As I imagined, we have not landed on the magic name that all our friends and family like, but we have what we consider a few solid selections for either LittleBoyZog or LittleGirlZog.

I have struggled with whether or not to share full names and/or photos of LZog on the blog, as I have serious reservations concerning the over-use of social media. For about four years I participated in Facebook; however, I deactivated my account in the summer of 2012 upon acknowledgement of my utter lack of self-control in checking it, along with my realization of greater need for discipline if I wanted to ever finish my dissertation. Also around that time that Facebook began changing and minimizing privacy options every few months. While I recognize the blog (and Facebook, Twitter, etc.) as valuable possible ways to share photos and information about one's life, I worry about posting much specific information about my kiddo. Slightly paranoid? Perhaps. Conspiratorial? Maybe.

For now, I will divulge that we have chosen names solely from our family tree. Since we have managed to trace each of our respective branches to the mid-1700s, these boundaries provide us with myriad, though not infinite, options. We have fairly settled on TZog for LittleBoyZog, though the middle name remains undecided; LittleGirlZog will likely either be LZog or MZog.

The "T" hails from KZog's side of the family, as a derivative of the middle name of one of the earliest Zog arrivals on American shores. "L" comes from my family - the maiden name of someone very important to me. "M" covers both sides, though I favor it because of a particular great-aunt with whom I share an affinity for learning. "T" and "M" fall into the category of more traditional names, while "L" qualifies as the most unique of the the three. Of course so far we've/I've changed my mind about the leading names once every two weeks. So, depending on how much longer LZog decides to kick it in womb land, we may have another completely different set of names . . .

XO,
JZog

Now Presenting . . . Dr. Zog!

One semester in the Middle East, two years of course work, three years of writing, six research trips, wading through the collections at twelve different archives, and culling over 8700 images from those archives have resulted in 266 pages worth of dissertation, one academic article (so far), over a dozen presentations, relationships with friends and faculty that will last a lifetime, and one very happy, almost mama, PhD.

KZog Caught Me By Surprise in My Special Spot Before the Big Show

Given my quite advanced stage of pregnancy (though no one need worry - I still feel great, only a tad unwieldy), I benefitted from accommodations for the commencement ceremony. Typically I have trouble asking for dispensation of special treatment, but Texas A&M particularly pushes that all graduates remain for the duration of the entire proceedings. If one leaves the floor early, an usher withholds your diploma; if you do not return, you must pick up your diploma at a later date. As good as I feel, I knew that at 37 weeks along with LZog three hours squished into a chair among my fellow graduates with neither food nor toilet would not work out in anyone's favor. The office in charge of such things proved wonderfully amenable (I am surely not the first requiring such assistance) and gave me several options. I decided to forego the processional (too long to stand in the holding pen) and instead sat at the side until they filtered me into my appropriate place in line (hence the photo above). Those watching would have a better sense of my success in waddling across the stage, but nary a teeter did I sense as I shook the many hands and as one of my fantastic committee members hooded me. I also received permission to leave the floor after I secured my diploma, of which I also took advantage.

Officially Dr. Zog!

The robe does nothing to flatter my 37-week belly, but it I think it accents my new status - no?

A Little Goofy, But Very Happy

Beyond the sheer excitement of recognition of the attainment of my PhD, KZog succeeded in rendering the entire day memorable. He managed all of our guests seamlessly and planned a perfect afternoon following the ceremony. Several family members and friends generously gave up their Friday to attend graduation and celebrate with us over a wonderful lunch KZog organized at Veritas, which I highly recommend to anyone whether for a delicious mid-week dinner or a special event.

One major life event for this month down; one to go!

XO,
JZog
LZog's Registry Link May Be Found By Clicking Here.

Happy Blogiversary to See Zog Go!

Well, I'm nearly two days late, but Happy Blogiversary to See Zog Go! 

Thank you to all who have stuck with me and my phasing in and out of the blogosphere over the past year. Though the pace of life and the lack of sleep promise to pick up again soon, I plan to keep my little corner of the inter webs running, if for no other reason but to inundate everyone with adorable photos of LZog with Pepperoni Pizza.

But really, the lives of the Zogs seem to hold only more and different adventures in the near future, so I cannot stop writing about them yet . . . 

XO,

JZog

For LZog's Registry, Click Here!

Made With Pine and Love

I knew that we needed more storage in LZog's room. Currently we have a dresser and only a small closet that really belongs to KZog. Living in a hundred-year-old house teaches and reinforces certain lessons about architecture and conspicuous consumption. We have no walk-in closets, a luxury that accompanied growing wardrobes and the economy in post-WWII America, it seems. After searching for a suitable, similar case for purchase, KZog decided that rather than pay for particleboard, he would try his hand at carpentry. I can assure you that he had previous experience with the necessary tools - saw, drill, square - but as far as following plans for a functional piece of furniture, this was a first.

We downloaded free plans from this site, which I believe KZog found accurate and easy to follow. At least the process involved little cursing or throwing of things. Like the nursery repairs and renovations, I mostly supervised and peered over shoulders during its construction. I lent some muscle to the staining process - which we will never, ever do again; painting or natural-look wood only - and quickly filled it up once placed in LZog's room. Ultimately, the building of the shelf took relatively little time; the finishing - sanding, filling, staining took far longer than the building.

When we first learned of the pending arrival of LZog, in his mind KZog leap-frogged basic bookcase building to wanting to build a crib that would later transform to a bed. I don't think I am the only one thankful that he took at least this one intermediary step. Though he sometimes hopes he had learned more about the practicalities of woodcraft from his Pa Pa, who practiced carpentry all his life, this first successful project has inspired him. What better way to spend one's time than creating something with his hands that recalls fondest, earliest memories of time spent with a loved one? We may end up with a crib/bed yet . . .

Anyone have a table saw we could borrow?

XO,
JZog
For LZog's Registry, Click Here!

Hurdles Cleared

For three years I have held the dubious academic designation of ABD - All But Dissertation - an assignation something like 50% of graduate students never surmount. Now, with only one more hurdle before TAMU officially recognizes me as PhD - successfully waddling nearly 37 weeks pregnant across the graduation stage - I find myself in another phase of ABD - All But Diploma.

Believe it or not, during high school I spent three years on the varsity track team (I even won MVP my senior year), bouncing between such events as the triple jump, long jump, all of the sprints (100, 200, 400 yards), and even the high jump (before you laugh too hard, I could clear more than my mere height). By the end of my first season, the coaches settled on rotating me through the high jump (keep on laughing!), a series of 400 yard races (anchoring the 800 medley and the 1600 relay; sometimes the open 400), and . . . the 300 yard hurdles.

Given my years of dance training and reputation as a quite decent jumper as a dancer, my track coaches determined that hurdles might suit me. As one might suspect, clearing hurdles requires some finesse and technique. Running up to them and jumping over rarely results in success. During practices I mastered the art of counting strides to the first hurdle and eyeballing the appropriate takeoff point to send my lead leg straight over and allowing my trail leg to follow through. Learning how to hurdle usually involves some crashing and burning. In addition to several skinned knees, I once managed to skid belly first on the track after catching the hurdle with my lead toe. My dance training did help me clear the hurdles, usually over-clearing, a habit that did not help my speed any as I battled my short stride. Luckily, track and field events do not award style points, so I found a degree of success as long as I completed the race and left all my efforts out on the track.

After I defended the dissertation way back in May, the wash of relief soon replaced itself with a frenzy over the bureaucratic hurdles necessary to clear before graduation. Silly me, believing that six years of research to write 266 pages with over 500 meticulously crafted footnotes and four appendices would prove enough to satisfy the TAMU graduation gods! I needed to apply for graduation (at which point they levy a charge for your diploma); order my cap and gown (of course, doctoral regalia costs more than all others - must be the velvet stripes); and, most importantly, clear my dissertation through the thesis office (for yet another fee). This feat requires copious paperwork and adherence to a series of strict deadlines, including copyright statements; approval documents from the dissertation committee - not only one from the defense, but a second confirming their approval of the dissertation; completion of surveys concerning one’s half a decade in graduate school; and the correct formatting of the dissertation according to a forty-page manual. In fairness, I understand that perhaps allowing the thousands of graduate students each year to turn in their projects in whatever form they so desired might end in disaster. Regardless, the process remains a soul-sucking exercise in hoop-jumping, er, hurdle-clearing, at a point by which it proves difficult to assemble the mental and physical wherewithal to complete these tasks. For instance, the act of securing committee signatures not once, but twice, may take days if not weeks, especially if one has a retired member, members actively pursuing research, or members generally busy teaching and administrating. Furthermore, the required formatting of the document leaves little room for creativity, though I suppose that is usually the first victim of bureaucracy, along with individual initiative.

What I found true of my high school track days holds true of completing the PhD.  Persistence pays. Did I need to be the most brilliant track athlete to win my team's MVP? Nope, but I showed up for and completed all of my events, compiling them into a tidy number of points and a not-too-shabby record by the end of the season. I have little sense now about the "score" of my work as a graduate student, but I do know that it is over, finished, done. As one of my fabulous dissertation committee members reminded me repeatedly: "Success is in the completion." So it was with track, and so it is with the PhD.

In two weeks, one may officially call me "Dr." Until then I wait, all hurdles cleared, everything "left on the track," as All But Diploma. 

XO,

JZog

For LZog's BabyList Click Here

Sweet Dreams for LZog

KZog has nearly as many projects in the works for LZog as I do. Nursery renovations, bookcase-building, and, perhaps most importantly, crafting ways to share his love and talent for music.

He has set a mission to record several songs with the aim of lulling LZog to dreamland. But no "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" for our future rocker. We have compiled quite an eclectic list of tunes, including Guns 'N Roses' "Sweet Child of Mine" (on ukelele),  Burt Bacharach's "Raindrops Keep Fallin' on my Head," and Tom Petty's "Free Fallin'". We'll ease LZog into the likes of ZZTop and Zep, though I think we did try a version of "Black Dog" on the ukelele (which, incidentally, our black dog hates. She prefers Stevie Ray's guitar to Bonham's drums.) 

Ukelele, you say? Earlier this year KZog acquired a baritone ukelele from his Granny and quickly adopted it as his go-to instrument for accompaniment. He tinkers more with this four-stringer than his guitar these days, but it does lend itself nicely to softening the edges of hard rock songs for new ears.

As he often does (and seldom do I protest), KZog has recruited me to act as vocalist, engineer, and video producer. So, we've put together a mini-video melding some of the photographs collected for our nursery decorations and part of our recording of "Hang on Little Tomato" by Pink Martini. 

(Since posting, I have learned that the video does not appear on some mobile devices. Click here to link directly to the video.)

We would love to add some songs to LZog's playlist. Post your suggestions in the comments!

XO,

JZog

Click here for LZog's Registry!

Knitting for the Knursery

While KZog undertakes the necessary repairs and renovations to the nursery, my fewer-than-8-weeks-to-go belly and I have logged some serious couch time, indulging in various iterations of BBC/PBS Mystery! as I knit cute and likely unnecessary items for LZog.

If knitting anything in Texas, especially during the hottest part of the year, strikes you as knutty, bear in mind that I haven't quite figured out a practical way to haul all of my sewing accoutrements into the living area and run a machine while kicking my feet up. Knitting, in other words, proves far more mobile than sewing machine projects.

Sometime last year I first attempted knitting animals, which I found more difficult than first imagined. Hence taking a year to finish them. Knitting up the separate pieces - arms, legs, head, ears, body - took little time. Piecing them together on the other hand . . . Eh. One ear would end up on top of the head and the other on the side. Or, the legs looked like the bear would have a pronounced limp if it could walk. Charming? Perhaps, though the mismatches aggravated me more than anything. Finally I evened the bits up enough to present a passable bear.

LZog's First Bear

Since I needed practice putting them together, LZog's bear has a twin in Louisiana that lives with his cousin, EMit, who turned one year old in June.

EMit's Blue-Eyed Bear

Yes I have made leg warmers. And yes, if LZog is a boy, he will wear them. Even the mauve-ish pair.

Ready for Flashdance

In theory, I suppose it matters on which side one places the buttons and buttonholes depending on whether the article of clothing will be worn by a boy or a girl. When looking at the piece, a "boy" sweater should/would have buttons on the left; a "girl"sweater, on the right. A cursory search gave me little to go on, though the response offered from website Stupid Questions Answered seems at least plausible. Several of women's fashion cycles have favored styles that required others - servants/slaves/relatives to dress them. Think corsets, cage/hooped skirt, and tight bodices (and no knit fabrics!). To fully dress, women's clothing had buttons on the left, as those dressing them would likely have been right-handed; whereas, men dressed themselves. Now, I've watched enough period dramas to know that this doesn't totally jive with the portrayals of, say, the English upper class, but it satisfies my curiosity for now. Unwittingly I have made this sweater for a boy, but I don't know that I would put any stock in this accident as somehow psychic. I have only to finish the sleeves and find some little silver buttons so that I may put it away until the weather cools enough for LZog to wear it, sometime in November if we are lucky.

Girl Sweater? Boy Sweater? How About Just a Cute Sweater?

I found all of the patterns used on Ravelry.com, a fantastic site for knitters and crocheters that boasts thousands of free patterns and many reasonably priced ones as well. The bears I based on Theodore the Teddy Bear; the leg warmers, Free-Range Baby Legwarmers; and the sweater, the Sunnyside Cardigan.

Here's to distracting myself over these last weeks!

XO,
JZog
For LZog's BabyList, Click Here

For the Family

Some of you reading this know the depressing realities of the current academic job market either because you have wrestled with it or know someone who has. Though I would still very much prefer to land a tenure-track position in a small liberal arts college (or SLAC in academic-ese) in the Midwest or South and focus on teaching while still working through my research projects, this prospect dims somewhat when I consider a number of factors: the proportion of jobs to job-seekers (I don't have the statistics in front of me, but they are not good); my stubbornness/persistence/refusal to move for an adjunct or temporary position; and the daunting pace of the publish or perish imperative necessary to obtain tenure. I understand that some may argue that beggars cannot and should not be choosers, but between LZog's pending arrival and a lifelong commitment to doing things my way, I feel little compulsion to sacrifice my soul to the academic gods.

That said, I neither regret the years I have spent pursuing the PhD nor believe that I cannot identify alternative avenues for the skills and talents I have cultivated over the past seven years. I refuse to assume a vitriolic position towards my lack of a tenure-track job immediately following graduation (or ever) and the vagaries of the job market.

Over the past year I have begun to tell people that if the professorial world rejects me, I will turn to writing historical fiction. Funny, every time I say it, the idea sounds better and better - and sometimes even more feasible. Though certainly no more stable or easier to manage than a career in academia, I may research whatever I want and publish on my own timeline. And I could make stuff up, which has appreciable appeal after some of the drudgery that I executed in the name of the dissertation. I aim to, though, err heavy on the historical and light on the fiction. Using family - facts and figures, legends and lore - offers me a fruitful foundation for future research.

Really I have several prospective projects, but over the past week I have focused on the Zogs and their entrepreneurial origins in St. Louis. By taking advantage of my waning weeks as a student, I accessed the most circulated paper in the area between 1911 and 1922, the St. Louis Post-Dispatch,  from the university library. Covering the years from the establishment of this Zog venture through the last year available in this database, I dug up some gems that lend some sparkle to Zog history.

Advertisements for their business, the Star Dyeing and Cleaning Company (spelling in context), comprised the bulk of what I found, but even these suggest a cheekiness true to both the time period and all the Zogs I know today. In 1919, they ran contests for the "Star Sayings" that accompanied many of the ads and informed potential customers of their "up to the minute equipment, long experience and extreme carefulness" that made "STAR SERVICE so successful - so satisfying" (May 27, 1919).

St. Louisans learned a little of the family roots from an ad that appeared in the July 29, 1918 edition. It declared that Star possessed "the best dyer that ever came out of Holland, but has been too modest to say so." I confess that I did not realize that Holland prided itself on its clothes dying traditions.

Modesty may/not have missed the mark as a genetic trend, but pronounced - and sometimes misguided - patriotism clearly began early, likely at least in part a reaction to American involvement in World War I. In 1916, an article titled "Warrants Charge Two With Using U.S. Flag in 'Ads'" explains that one FZog (KZog's great or great-great grandfather - we cannot confirm which) refused a request to remove a flag shield emblem emblazoned with the company name from their wagons. Another similar article followed the next day, though we have no indication of whether or not the authorities convicted FZog of the violation, which carried a fine of $100 or 30 days in jail for each offense (August 5 & 6, 1916). Advertisements later in the war focused on cleanliness as a patriotic duty.

My favorite find, however, remains the long-time slogan: "Our Proposition Is a Clean One".

To what ends will this work come? Who knows?. All the same, it gives me a productive project for the family in the meantime . . .

XO,
JZog
For LZog's Baby Registry, Click Here!

Texas Sate Time Trial Cycling Championships

During our morning puppy parade two weekends ago, KZog and I encountered the Texas State Time Trial Cycling Championships. Conducted this year by the North West Cycling Club, they chose to organize the ride to begin and end in our little town. We knew nothing of the event before we saw dozens of cyclists corralled in the parking lots of the middle and high schools near our house.

Why the middle-of-nowhere? Or, at least, why our middle-of nowhere? The race organizers actually made a solid selection in their 40 kilometer route, as the powers that be had this particular road recently resurfaced; it also has light morning weekend traffic, save for the occasional farm implement.

As many know, KZog and I met at a bicycle shop and have spent many a mile on the road/trail together. We enjoy watching races as well, and what better venue that practically one's own backyard?

KZog loaded up Pepperoni Pizza and a cooler, and we drove about one third of the way from the start to set up our vantage point. As an "out and back" race, we caught riders both near the beginning and near the end of the race. I took the opportunity to practice my camera skills on moving people/objects. Although I appreciate the convenience of the auto setting, I have found that I typically take better - clearer, more carefully framed - photos if I take the time to focus and choose my settings manually. I figured snapping photos of cyclists traveling upwards of 35 miles per hour would offer sufficient rehearsal for taking photos of a mobile LZog.

In the meantime, I still take lots of pictures of my current favorite subject:

Roni Rearin' to Go

Roni So Over This

Stationary wildflowers prove good for honing focusing skills, too:

Texas Summer Wildflowers

Texas Summer Wildflower 

We watched the team time trial, hence the tight packs of four riders. Some of the teams really whizzed down the road, sounding more like cars on the highway than two-wheeled human-powered machines.

Heading Out

Flying Tight 

Catching Up

Happy weekend, all!

XO,
JZog
Click Here for the Herzogenrath Baby Registry 

A Nursery Project and the First Special Deliveries for LZog

As anyone who has talked with me for more than ten minutes realizes, I am a person of many projects. Even though I have only today wrapped up the final edits to the dissertation for submission to the thesis office, I have several somethings at various stages of progress in preparation for LZog. Hats, leg warmers, blankets, newborn gowns - all begun but very few finished. Though my focus has mostly settled on wearables,  it seems one of the first questions anyone asks (following "When are you due?" and "Is it a boy or a girl?") involves the theme of the nursery.

Theme??? I find it funny to respond with something like: "Sure! The theme is 'This is where LZog will sleep, along with some guitars and other random stuff that won't fit in a closet.'" Most people - women AND men, I should add -  have not shared my cavalier attitude on the matter.

In fairness, I should explain that we do have a couple of factors that prevent us from adopting a whole hog approach to decorating. First, of course, we do not know how much longer we will stay in this house. It does not make sense to emblazon the walls with jungle murals only to have to paint over it in the next six months. Second, which bothers other people more than it does us, we have decided not to discover or divulge the sex/gender of LZog. According to any baby store and many people who have had babies, this is the deciding factor in how one decorates a nursery. Nonsense, I say.

While I have refrained from fully capitulating to slathering a theme all over the nursery, I have developed a couple of ideas that I plan to incorporate into LZog's room. The one of which I am most proud involves creating an area dedicated to baby photos of the immediate family. Not only will this keep the family close, but we will also see: from whom exactly did LZog acquire that nose/eyes/hair/expression? We think there lies a contest in this as well - whoever LZog favors most wins the privilege of a year of diaper changing, courtesy of LZog . . .  Maybe?

So far our quest for photos has proven successful, but we have a few more to collect before I begin organizing them.

In other baby news, yesterday LZog received their first special delivery! Aunt DBom and Uncle GBom (a branch of the Missouri Zogs) sent the adorable Snugabunny Bouncer, to encourage a restful LZog, and a Banana Brush (toothbrush), to help keep LZog's teeth clean. Thank you, thank you!

XO,
JZog
Click here for our Baby Registry

It Takes a (Virtual) Village

As most already know, I have returned safe and sound to the US from Doha. My time there has officially ended and now KZog and I have settled into a mad, mad mode of preparing our current house for sale and considering where we will settle down in anticipation of LZog's (Little Zog) arrival and my entrée onto the academic job market for fall 2015.

As we move into LZog's third trimester, many have asked if someone will host a baby shower. While some have offered, because of the far-flungedness of most of our friends and family, we have decided instead to hold a sort of ongoing virtual baby shower. KZog and I very much want everyone, near and far, to be involved in LZog's life and found this the best option for us at this time. Though some websites exist to formalize a virtual shower as an event, we will keep everyone updated through the blog. Each week or so, I will share the wonderful ways in which you all have helped create our (virtual) village for LZog.

Rather than registering at Target and/or Babies 'R Us (I have to confess, that place sends me into a panic - one cannot possibly need all those things. . . . right?), we have chosen to use BabyList, an online registry that allows us to compile products from across the web. At the click of a browser button I may add that fantastic book sling I found at Bed Bath and Beyond as well as our preferred diapers from the Honest Company. If interested, click here for the Herzogenrath BabyList Registry.

I'll admit that I am not the biggest fan of "baby bump" photos. But, our 20 weeks coincided with Easter, so we have some photos of me rounding out for those who require proof. Suffice it to say my roundness has become far more pronounced here as we approach week 28 . . .

Sassy as Usual - Will it Run in the Family?

Squinting, but Smiling

                                        
   

XO,
JZog
Herzogenrath BabyList Registry

I Saw the Sign

Overspeed Leads to Perdition. (I do believe three exclamation points follow!!!)

Well, then everyone in Doha will be in good company. Talk about signs unheeded . . .

XO,
JZog

Back in QATAR

Fast forward five and a half months . . . 

Despite my best intentions to keep up with the blog while back in TX, I failed at that as diligently as I worked on my dissertation. Much has transpired over the nearly six months since I last found myself in the desert (high today 112 degrees Fahrenheit!). A sampling:

. KZog and I learned that in early September we will welcome Little Zog (herein LZog. Yes, we have J, K and LZog - aren't we cute?).

. On May 8th, I successfully defended my dissertation. Graduation to follow in August (though if anyone wants to practice calling me DrZog, I will certainly comply).

. We began the process of packing up and fixing the house to sell; however, we do not yet have a firm timeline of when we will move (or where, really).

So after a busy, busy spring, I am now visiting steamy, sandy Doha to tie up loose ends and wrap up my year-long contract. I anticipate returning to TX by the end of the week, but if I have learned anything about in my time here, I know that planning often proves futile.

I did miss some aspects of Doha, mostly certain people and certain food. Any weight I haven't gained so far in the course of the development of LZog, I have taken care of over the last couple of weeks. How I have missed you delicious bread, pastries and dips! Thank goodness for kebab and kofta!

Everyone has taken quite wonderful care of me during my stay, so those of you stateside needn't worry. As for the Zogs' little piece of the blogosphere, take this as my return to regular musings. Check back here often, as we will use this as a place to keep everyone posted on the impending arrival of LZog, graduation, and whatever other major life events we manage to take on over the next few months.

Happy Memorial Day for those in the US. Though my family has a number of veterans, Uncle Kermit and Aunt Margaret reign as my favorites.

I like the name Margaret . . .

XO,
JZog