The continuing exploits of Mr. Finnegan as he conquers the world with his cuteness.

Being born in August, this October is my very first October, which also makes it my first opportunity to make the yearly pilgrimage to the Pumpkin Patch on Sauvie Island. From what I gather, this is a required yearly ritual that I am to perform as part of my membership in our nuclear unit.

Perfect Pumpkins

The place was filled with the milling denizens of Earth, more people in one location than I had imagined existed. There were so many, in fact, that I can only assume that the ones in the distance were in danger of being crowded over the edge of the horizon, and hence off the edge of the Earth. What happens then I have yet to find out.

We wandered about and took pictures and video to document our accomplishments. Mother and Father ate something called an “Elephant Ear”, which led me to be on the lookout for any angry earless elephants that might still be lurking near. We took the grand promenade which included the petting zoo of farm animals. I was amazed that the other people were amazed at seeing the animals, as I have seen many a chicken and goat right near my house, so I assumed that they were plentiful and even distributed across the planet.

Finally we visited the store where Mother had to battle the throng in order to purchase a special honey that is only found in that place. The shouting and jostling of the ensuing melee gave me the permission I needed and I lent my voice to the cacophony.  The only real problem was that my screaming lasted long after we had left the store area, and did not abate until I was safely ensconced in my carseat back. And so ended our delightful visit to the Pumpkin Patch.

I received a most enjoyable visit from my maternal granparents this Thursday, a visit for which I had made exceedingly careful preparations. At my behest, Father and Mother indulged me by launching into a veritable frenzy of house-cleaning. I simply felt that when entertaining it is of paramount concern that one present a clean and tidy appearance, both of house and of person.

As to the second point, i.e. my person, I insisted on a thorough washing of my entire body. This, of course, required the assistance of Mother, as I have yet to convert the unlimited depths of energy contained in my flailing of arms and stomping of legs into any semblance of useful motor skills, such that I might wash myself without the aid of others.

Father was tasked with the assiduous cleansing of surfaces permeating our abode, as regards floors, counters, and walkways. Rugs were also left within his purview, and he dealt with them accordingly, which is to say with much shaking and pounding out of doors. Father acquitted himself with great aplomb, leaving the household free of the detritus of our animal companions that often plagues our living spaces and collects in the interstices of our lives. “Bunnies of the dust” I believe you call them.

And then the visitors arrived. How we laughed and gambolled about, lost in the joys of common pleasures, talking of times and places past and future. My maternal granparents are a most frolicsome pair, and I found myself most entertained by their frequent drolleries. Papa Henry was most jocular, as is demonstrated in the daguerreotype below.

Papa Henry and I

After so much give and take, jib and jibe, we settled into a warmly familliar calm that included a most satisfying meal provided by Nana Pam by way of a bottle.

Nana Pam and I

Such were the idylls of our buccholic autumn repast. Much was achieved, much was accomplished, all were satisfied.

When dressing, a gentleman should always pay careful attention to the cut and style of his apparel. I chose this outfit based on the understated colors and the subdued pattern. The hat really brings the ensemble together, I dare say.

Looking Good

After a good soaking in the spa it is most important to dress in comfortable clothing that prevents one from catching a chill. This terry cloth confection works as both a towel for drying off and as a futuristic robe for space battles.

It does a body good to take of the fresh air on occasion. On a recent Saturday I suggested to my fellows that fresh air was in order, to which they replied that mine was a capital idea. With a brief frenzy of preparation and packing, our vehicle was readied for what turned out to be a most refreshing excursion into the local wilds.

Baby on the beach

We flew through what I assume are the giant tubes of the universe to a windswept vista of water and sand. What lay before me was called a “river”, which, if I have this right, is like a really long bathtub with the faucet always running. This seemed like a wonderful idea to me, but this visit was not to be a bath time, much to my lasting disappointment.

Mother Dear

This river of the Cowlitz was populated by funny little people in noisy little boats scurrying about. The four-legged creature who is always sniffing me, Maisy I think her name is, was also there, and seemed to enjoy herself immensely as she ran back and forth barking at the little boats.

Father and Maisy

After a short circumambulation about the grassy areas of the park, past the boat launch and the playground filled with screaming children, we returned to our vehicle. Once home again it was time for a light meal of milk and a nap. It was agreed by all that such outings are to be a regular fixture of our routine in future. Capital idea indeed!

In my long life I have learned many things, one of which is to focus on the now and not to waste time worrying about the past. And as for the future, I say let it take care of itself! The here and now is all that matters, and right now I am here in this vibrating chair. And now is the time to smile.

Good Vibrations

Such great wisdom has come to me slowly with the passage of time. With great age comes great wisdom, and I am old, so very old now. More than a month on this fair earth have I lived and loved, cried for joy and cried out in anguish, and experienced the heights and depths of this wide world.

It is hard for me to imagine being even older than I am now, but both Father and Mother must be older than I, of this much I am certain. Is it possible? Could Mother be two months old? Older!? These are mysteries for me to plumb the depths of. In another month of life I should be able to find the answer to all of life’s questions, for a month is a very, very long time.