13 Baseball Sundays with Sienna: Game 2
MANY YEARS AGO
I was pissed at my father. He knew it, I knew it, and at the risk of avoid the entire "I knew that he knew" conversation, let me just say there was no doubt between my Mother, Father, brother and myself that someone was in danger of losing his life that day.
Most likely myself since I was around seven years old.
There are several possibilities for the source of such as a tumultuous father-son moment. Girls. Money. Work. Or for a seven year old boy it would be leaving a baseball game during a rain delay that was in the third inning.
ME: DAD! WE'RE NOT LEAVING!
FATHER: We're leaving if I have to pick you up and carry you!
ME: NO!
We were standing under the Fenway Park bleachers, which during a rain delay doubled as a hide away cave with all the amenities that ancient caveman would have thought were terrible. The sun had long ago set along with the time when I was usually put into bed.
This was a special day though. A night game!
FATHER: Wayne!
I sat down at that point. Luckily my pants were already soaked from the rain delay so I didn't give too much thought to the sticky liquid that was suddenly seaping through my courderoys.
My Father turned a color that is best described as Fatherly Rage Red. Crayola could have made a million dollars off the color.
FATHER: The game is going to be called off.
ME: Then we can wait.
By now a small crowd had gathered. Mostly glaring at my father for daring to take his child away from a baseball game. I squeezed my eyes shut to make my father go away. At least that is how I remember the story.
Yes, I was ticked off. This was my birthday present. My first baseball game ever and my father - hater of sports - was ruining it for me!
Since my eyes were closed I felt his hands first. One on each shoulder. My eyes burst open long enough for tears to flood them as he bodily carried me out of Fenway Park.
Oh, where was my Mother during all of this? Shaking her head in disagreement as I was carried off.
FATHER: The ticket will be good for the makeup game.
The next morning I woke up to find out the game HAD been played. I didn't talk to my father for two weeks.
TWENTY SOMETHING YEARS LATER...ON A SATURDAY
Danielle was shaking her head in disagreement against me.
It was a gorgeous sunny day as we pushed Sienna through the cobbled streets of Cobbile Hill on our way to a play date with her daycare friend Tristan. Sienna was keeping a sharp lookout for dogs while she munched on her ever present cheerios. I was rehashing a conversation Danielle and I had been replaying for three days now.
There would be no Sunday baseball game for Sienna and myself.
On Danielle's side: weather reports, that she had been fighting a cold for nine days, and common-sense.
On my side: twenty years of fury at my father and a tiny bit of logic.
My logic was that Sienna would have to get used to inclement weather at some games. What better time than early in her life to teach her? We could layer her in rain gear - she loves the rain I had pointed out.
Danielle was not budging on this. I said a tiny bit of logic.
Danielle changed the subject to which bodega to get water from on Atlantic Avenue. I looked back at my daughter. Our children never know the battles we attempt to fight for them.
What we are willing to sit through.
A FEW MONTHS AGO
"I got enough sitting in the cold in Buffalo that's why."
My father was on the other end of the phone as I picked on him about not wanting to stay at the game. How I would never do that to my child.
I asked him what we was talking about. He never went to a sporting event in his life until my brother and I started sports.
Turns out not to be true.
When we lived in upstate New York the company he was Vice President for had Buffalo Bills season tickets. In the name of corporate synergy and happiness my father would go to the games with my mother.
I was shocked. It was like finding out there WAS an Easter Bunny.
"You sat in the cold?" I asked.
"Unfortunately," he laughed.
"What about us kids?"
"We'd leave you with your mother's friends, go tail gate, and watch the game. All I remember is how cold it was."
I wondered why my father would do such a thing. He laughed again.
"For the love of your mother."
YESTERDAY
"You know my mother will be here the whole day?"
I didn't answer. When the promise of a non-baseball game came through we had invited Grandma Trudy over for the day. It had been two weeks since she had seen Sienna.
It was 11:30 in the morning, Danielle had half an eye on the conversation with me, half an eye on her email as she was waiting for the game to be officially be called. The rain had just started coming down in bucketfuls, pushing toward Noah's Ark level at a rapid pace.
"Game is called," Danielle said, her Iphone bleeping at her, "you glad we didn't go?"
"No," I lied.
Danielle sighed as she tweeted out the game status. She knew she was right. I knew she was right. I'm just glad the game was canceled and would be made up.
Unlike twenty years earlier.
A kid doesn't forget such moments.
ADDENDUM
I should aside here that my father NEVER raised a hand to me. Actually his parenting advice to myself and my brother, If you get mad punch a door; never the child - the door can be replaced, not the child. My sister-in-law is horrified by this advice, my brother and I merely nod since we really did deserve a smack every now and again.
Wayne
Showing posts with label Mets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mets. Show all posts
Monday, April 23, 2012
Monday, April 9, 2012
13 Baseball Sundays with Sienna: Game 1 - part 2
Part 2 of Game 1
The wind always blasts you in the face.
That the first thing you take in when you exit the corporate office onto the right field ramp. On a hot day it causes a temperature illusion as you exit air conditioned offices into a wonderfully shading spot, giving you the not exactly true belief you are not actually standing in a New York inferno. On a cold day it peels your clothes off instantly and then attempts to freeze off your skin layer-by-layer.
Sienna scrunched her face up, nearly vanishing beneath her pink winter hat. I knew 1a child can make a face tinier, somehow she managed to minimize her head. Maybe she just slumped into her tiny sleeping bag. I know there is a different name for the bag that covers her in the stroller, really though it is a tiny sleeping bag.
The second thing you take in when you exit the corporate office onto the right field ramp is a surprisingly good view of the parking lot, the 7 train, and part of the chop shops. Oh, sorry, the "secondary car service market."
Sienna wasn't impressed by the view. She may have even growled at me.
I got her into the sun as fast as possible so she wouldn't start screaming. I will now let you onto a not-secret-all bit of parenting thought. 97% of the actions we take as a parent of a toddler is to minimize a potential upset child. Parents will claim we are trying to make them into better future citizens, or make the world a better place, or prepare the child for life.
We are lying. We don't want out child to cry. We inherently know our child will be cranky, upset, screaming little demon children and lead to conversations that my father and mother once had about myself and my brother:
"You keep the kids, I'll keep the pictures."
That is the level a child can cause a parent to reach.
When I say I don't want her to start screaming, I know this contradicts my earlier statement that I don't care if she throws a tantrum. I really do mean both. I also know that I wanted her in the sun as quickly as possible.
The Pepsi Porch
The Pepsi Porch were the first seats I ever sat in at Citi Field. I wish I remembered that at the time I taking the elevator up there - I wasn't. Either way, Sienna and I have a nice commonality, even when it is completely coincidental.
You could hear the low crack of batting practice, maybe even a little thump of the ball hitting the mitt, and definitely the early season sound of a child asking his father for a hot dog.
One picture and two minutes later we were rolling off the Porch. It was only 11:48 AM and cold. Sienna wasn't suitably distracted by the field going ons. There weren't enough people for her to check out. Daddy certainly isn't interesting enough.
Coincidentally the first time I sat in the Pepsi Porch is cold, there was a rain delay, and my friends and I lasted about the same about of time. Sienna and I continued the path of what my friends and I did the first time.
We went to the club.
Caesar's Club
I really wish the Caesar's Club would put a few slots or perhaps a black jack table in it. Even rolling my daughter in I felt that way. Being pre-noon and the first day to the park for a lot of people (or so I imagine) the club is thinly populated.
Which is great for Sienna and myself.
Caesar's Club has window the runs the length the exterior of the ballpark and it is slightly cordoned off by a large wall. A brilliant person added in soft couches, plush one person king seats grouped together and some coffee tables since the brilliant person most likely had children and knew they needed a spot to run around. Some large screen TVs add to the ambiance and are tuned in to SNY so the parents can still catch the game.
We parked ourselves onto an area with four king seats with a view of a TV.
Sienna was thrilled to be released. At least that was the reason I told myself as she threw her arms around my neck and clutched on for dear life as she peered over my shoulder.
Okay, maybe she just loves Daddy.
Okay, most likely she was exhibiting her usual caution for new situations. Caution for new situations entails 15 minutes of peering around, considering her options and then venturing out to the new environment.
In this case the usual 15 minutes took 18 minutes before she signalled that she wanted to be put on the floor. She she signalled for her cheerios. Signalling for her cheerios consists of bouncing up and down on knees while reaching skyward. This is not to be confused with "pick me" which is she performs the same action yet does not bounce.
Sienna's cheerio bounce was interupted when a mother with a baby carriage covered completely in Mets gear came to a rest at the seats next to us. How do I know it was a mother? You can tell, trust me.
I started talking with the mother. In the baby carriage was a four-month old going to her first baseball game. The mother was joined by her other child, a five year old boy dressed head-to-toe in Mets gear, and the father who was adorned similarly.
The entire scene was to Sienna's interest. Especially given the bag of popcorn the father was putting on the table of the son to eat.
Sienna can be cat-like when she wants something. Like the pieces of popcorn that came to rest of the floor of the Caesar's Club carpeted floor. I got my hands around her as she reached within a couple of feet of the renegade kernels.
The mother chuckled at the entire situation while the father gave a bored look. The mother was in the midst of feeding the newborn milk and then hustled off to change her. The father maintaining the same bored look the entire time.
Maybe someday I'll have that look. Either way I manuevered Sienna back to our spot where various older strangers cooed and smiled at Sienna. Sienna maintained her composure while nibbling on cheerios and taking everything in.
Sienna's first pitch & a Stroll
I made the decision that stuffing Sienna back into stroller to take her out for a live first pitch wasn't happening. She wasn't showing any interest in her milk, her toys, or even the cheerios anymore.
When she stops moving around this is the indication that she is tired and most likely wants a nap.
Therefore the first pitch of the Sunday season was...two guys nearly blocking the view of the tv. I guess not every Sunday will be perfect.
Still, it was now about 1:20 and Danielle was still working. Which left me with a tired child, too cold to go outside and the need to put her down for a nap. A parent will do what a parent needs to do in this situation.
I put her in the stroller and started rolling her around the Caesar's Club.
This isn't that unusual. At least judging from the lack of reaction from people. I don't know what I was expecting. From the staff it was complete indifference and from strangers it was knowing smiles.
I was just happy that Sienna was enjoying the trip. Her eyes darted about as she checked out the various food offerings. Definitely my daughter as she looked at a pastrami sandwich.
On the fifth strolled around the Caesar's Club I noticed a young girl sitting on a couch near Sienna and I had first started.
The girl with the bookNormally I would not have noticed a young girl, probably ten or eleven years old decked out in pink Mets gear (suitable until age 7, come on parents!). Except she had lounged herself on the couch and was reading a book.
I respect a move like that. Reading takes priority and there was no stopping her.
As she sat there her mother, carrying french fries, joined her on the couch. The young daughter repositioned herself to cuddle against the maternal one. The maternal one ate french fries and watched the game.
I had to smile. I KNOW I will be doing the same thing with Sienna at some point. At least the parent was in good spirits about the entire situation. She even gave a smile to me as I strollered past.
Starting my sixth time through.
Sienna makes her moveI made it a full circle before Sienna became restless. The nap was definitely NOT going to happen, so I released her from her baby bondage to see if she wanted to get a little exercise.
Maybe it was the familiarity of six times around the place but Sienna bolted the second I put her on the flood. The pitter patter of little feet as she headed toward the salad bar. The smile of a Caesar Club worker's face as Sienna headed toward her.
My look of concern as Sienna banged a left toward the main dining area and the foot traffic.
"Um, excuse my baby," I said as Sienna reached the dining area. Usually Sienna has zero interest in tiles. This time she left the rug and continued on her journey.
The patrons laughed. It is hard to be angry on Opening Day weekend. Though if Sienna crawls in there during a hot day during a losing streak she may get stepped on.
I picked Sienna up, turned her around and encouraged her to crawl back to our home base. I know, sometimes Daddy's are no fun. Danielle checked in around that time, saying she was done with her work and would be coming by with some food.
Which was good since I hadn't eaten all day.
Sienna's pizza
Sienna ventured back to our starting point.
Meanwhile the Girl with the book was joined by her father. The mother laughing as she headed back out to the game.
I arrived in time for the 1following conversation.
Father: Would you--
Girl: Reading.
Father: It's--
Girl. --cold. I'm reading.
Father: But.
Girl: Daaaadddd.
Boy I can DEFINITELY wait for Sienna to grow up and have those conversations. Some people say, "I can't wait for my child to talk!" Danielle and myself take a more practical approach. We don't wish for anything.
Danielle met up with us holding a culinary delight. Sienna gave her best "hi Mommy!" smile, which is an intoxicating grin that is specifically for Mommy (I get a more low rent version, which is slighly below the leve the cat gets.) I gave my best "hi wife!" smile, quickly spying the four slice of Two Boots pizza she was holding.
See, Mommy's always nourish. This was a no-brainer since I love pizza. My stomach can attest to this. Also Sienna has enjoyed pizza in the past. Nibbling off the ends while grinning madly. Though since she wasn't interested in cheerios she certainly wouldn't be--
Sienna went right for the pizza.
Mommy, Daddy, and Sienna then sat and ate four slices of pizza for the family's first food of the season.
Sienna goes home not having seen any of the live action
Less than half an hour later we rolled Sienna out into the parking lot. She didn't see a pitch the day, I think I explained to her a few terms, she certainly saw some colors. She WAS bribed with food, so at least that part of the plan worked.
On the way how she fell asleep to the sounds of the Mets on the radio. An event that is certain to be repeated time and again through out this summer. At least until she starts asking for Yo Gabba Gabba.
Wayne
The wind always blasts you in the face.
That the first thing you take in when you exit the corporate office onto the right field ramp. On a hot day it causes a temperature illusion as you exit air conditioned offices into a wonderfully shading spot, giving you the not exactly true belief you are not actually standing in a New York inferno. On a cold day it peels your clothes off instantly and then attempts to freeze off your skin layer-by-layer.
Sienna scrunched her face up, nearly vanishing beneath her pink winter hat. I knew 1a child can make a face tinier, somehow she managed to minimize her head. Maybe she just slumped into her tiny sleeping bag. I know there is a different name for the bag that covers her in the stroller, really though it is a tiny sleeping bag.
The second thing you take in when you exit the corporate office onto the right field ramp is a surprisingly good view of the parking lot, the 7 train, and part of the chop shops. Oh, sorry, the "secondary car service market."
Sienna wasn't impressed by the view. She may have even growled at me.
I got her into the sun as fast as possible so she wouldn't start screaming. I will now let you onto a not-secret-all bit of parenting thought. 97% of the actions we take as a parent of a toddler is to minimize a potential upset child. Parents will claim we are trying to make them into better future citizens, or make the world a better place, or prepare the child for life.
We are lying. We don't want out child to cry. We inherently know our child will be cranky, upset, screaming little demon children and lead to conversations that my father and mother once had about myself and my brother:
"You keep the kids, I'll keep the pictures."
That is the level a child can cause a parent to reach.
When I say I don't want her to start screaming, I know this contradicts my earlier statement that I don't care if she throws a tantrum. I really do mean both. I also know that I wanted her in the sun as quickly as possible.
The Pepsi Porch
The Pepsi Porch were the first seats I ever sat in at Citi Field. I wish I remembered that at the time I taking the elevator up there - I wasn't. Either way, Sienna and I have a nice commonality, even when it is completely coincidental.
You could hear the low crack of batting practice, maybe even a little thump of the ball hitting the mitt, and definitely the early season sound of a child asking his father for a hot dog.
One picture and two minutes later we were rolling off the Porch. It was only 11:48 AM and cold. Sienna wasn't suitably distracted by the field going ons. There weren't enough people for her to check out. Daddy certainly isn't interesting enough.
Coincidentally the first time I sat in the Pepsi Porch is cold, there was a rain delay, and my friends and I lasted about the same about of time. Sienna and I continued the path of what my friends and I did the first time.
We went to the club.
Caesar's Club
I really wish the Caesar's Club would put a few slots or perhaps a black jack table in it. Even rolling my daughter in I felt that way. Being pre-noon and the first day to the park for a lot of people (or so I imagine) the club is thinly populated.
Which is great for Sienna and myself.
Caesar's Club has window the runs the length the exterior of the ballpark and it is slightly cordoned off by a large wall. A brilliant person added in soft couches, plush one person king seats grouped together and some coffee tables since the brilliant person most likely had children and knew they needed a spot to run around. Some large screen TVs add to the ambiance and are tuned in to SNY so the parents can still catch the game.
We parked ourselves onto an area with four king seats with a view of a TV.
Sienna was thrilled to be released. At least that was the reason I told myself as she threw her arms around my neck and clutched on for dear life as she peered over my shoulder.
Okay, maybe she just loves Daddy.
Okay, most likely she was exhibiting her usual caution for new situations. Caution for new situations entails 15 minutes of peering around, considering her options and then venturing out to the new environment.
In this case the usual 15 minutes took 18 minutes before she signalled that she wanted to be put on the floor. She she signalled for her cheerios. Signalling for her cheerios consists of bouncing up and down on knees while reaching skyward. This is not to be confused with "pick me" which is she performs the same action yet does not bounce.
Sienna's cheerio bounce was interupted when a mother with a baby carriage covered completely in Mets gear came to a rest at the seats next to us. How do I know it was a mother? You can tell, trust me.
I started talking with the mother. In the baby carriage was a four-month old going to her first baseball game. The mother was joined by her other child, a five year old boy dressed head-to-toe in Mets gear, and the father who was adorned similarly.
The entire scene was to Sienna's interest. Especially given the bag of popcorn the father was putting on the table of the son to eat.
Sienna can be cat-like when she wants something. Like the pieces of popcorn that came to rest of the floor of the Caesar's Club carpeted floor. I got my hands around her as she reached within a couple of feet of the renegade kernels.
The mother chuckled at the entire situation while the father gave a bored look. The mother was in the midst of feeding the newborn milk and then hustled off to change her. The father maintaining the same bored look the entire time.
Maybe someday I'll have that look. Either way I manuevered Sienna back to our spot where various older strangers cooed and smiled at Sienna. Sienna maintained her composure while nibbling on cheerios and taking everything in.
Sienna's first pitch & a Stroll
I made the decision that stuffing Sienna back into stroller to take her out for a live first pitch wasn't happening. She wasn't showing any interest in her milk, her toys, or even the cheerios anymore.
When she stops moving around this is the indication that she is tired and most likely wants a nap.
Therefore the first pitch of the Sunday season was...two guys nearly blocking the view of the tv. I guess not every Sunday will be perfect.
Still, it was now about 1:20 and Danielle was still working. Which left me with a tired child, too cold to go outside and the need to put her down for a nap. A parent will do what a parent needs to do in this situation.
I put her in the stroller and started rolling her around the Caesar's Club.
This isn't that unusual. At least judging from the lack of reaction from people. I don't know what I was expecting. From the staff it was complete indifference and from strangers it was knowing smiles.
I was just happy that Sienna was enjoying the trip. Her eyes darted about as she checked out the various food offerings. Definitely my daughter as she looked at a pastrami sandwich.
On the fifth strolled around the Caesar's Club I noticed a young girl sitting on a couch near Sienna and I had first started.
The girl with the bookNormally I would not have noticed a young girl, probably ten or eleven years old decked out in pink Mets gear (suitable until age 7, come on parents!). Except she had lounged herself on the couch and was reading a book.
I respect a move like that. Reading takes priority and there was no stopping her.
As she sat there her mother, carrying french fries, joined her on the couch. The young daughter repositioned herself to cuddle against the maternal one. The maternal one ate french fries and watched the game.
I had to smile. I KNOW I will be doing the same thing with Sienna at some point. At least the parent was in good spirits about the entire situation. She even gave a smile to me as I strollered past.
Starting my sixth time through.
Sienna makes her moveI made it a full circle before Sienna became restless. The nap was definitely NOT going to happen, so I released her from her baby bondage to see if she wanted to get a little exercise.
Maybe it was the familiarity of six times around the place but Sienna bolted the second I put her on the flood. The pitter patter of little feet as she headed toward the salad bar. The smile of a Caesar Club worker's face as Sienna headed toward her.
My look of concern as Sienna banged a left toward the main dining area and the foot traffic.
"Um, excuse my baby," I said as Sienna reached the dining area. Usually Sienna has zero interest in tiles. This time she left the rug and continued on her journey.
The patrons laughed. It is hard to be angry on Opening Day weekend. Though if Sienna crawls in there during a hot day during a losing streak she may get stepped on.
I picked Sienna up, turned her around and encouraged her to crawl back to our home base. I know, sometimes Daddy's are no fun. Danielle checked in around that time, saying she was done with her work and would be coming by with some food.
Which was good since I hadn't eaten all day.
Sienna's pizza
Sienna ventured back to our starting point.
Meanwhile the Girl with the book was joined by her father. The mother laughing as she headed back out to the game.
I arrived in time for the 1following conversation.
Father: Would you--
Girl: Reading.
Father: It's--
Girl. --cold. I'm reading.
Father: But.
Girl: Daaaadddd.
Boy I can DEFINITELY wait for Sienna to grow up and have those conversations. Some people say, "I can't wait for my child to talk!" Danielle and myself take a more practical approach. We don't wish for anything.
Danielle met up with us holding a culinary delight. Sienna gave her best "hi Mommy!" smile, which is an intoxicating grin that is specifically for Mommy (I get a more low rent version, which is slighly below the leve the cat gets.) I gave my best "hi wife!" smile, quickly spying the four slice of Two Boots pizza she was holding.
See, Mommy's always nourish. This was a no-brainer since I love pizza. My stomach can attest to this. Also Sienna has enjoyed pizza in the past. Nibbling off the ends while grinning madly. Though since she wasn't interested in cheerios she certainly wouldn't be--
Sienna went right for the pizza.
Mommy, Daddy, and Sienna then sat and ate four slices of pizza for the family's first food of the season.
Sienna goes home not having seen any of the live action
Less than half an hour later we rolled Sienna out into the parking lot. She didn't see a pitch the day, I think I explained to her a few terms, she certainly saw some colors. She WAS bribed with food, so at least that part of the plan worked.
On the way how she fell asleep to the sounds of the Mets on the radio. An event that is certain to be repeated time and again through out this summer. At least until she starts asking for Yo Gabba Gabba.
Wayne
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Ten Things I'll Teach My Daughter About Baseball
Danielle and I are expecting a daughter this March. Beyond the general excitement/fear/we did what? of becoming parents there are some immediate questions that comes up. First, Daughter baseball fan allegiance - we have
My initial baseball fandom-and all sports- came from my mother. From her I learned how to do math using batting averages, the importance of going from first to third on a hit, and why bleacher seats are so much fun. I keep hearing about baseball being about fathers & sons - definitely true, just not in my house.
Let me cover playing baseball for exactly one paragraph.
Danielle has better fundamentals than I do. Ask anyone who has ever seen her play softball (or myself play softball). During Mets Family Day people were shocked at how good a player she is as my pregnant wife and I played long toss in the outfield.
So leaving the teaching of fundamentals to Danielle here are ten things I'll teach my daughter (in no order) about baseball
Follow me at www.twitter.com/wparillo
www.thejetscurse.com
- Mets fan -Danielle's side of the family
- Red Sox fan - my side of the family, or
- Disowned if she becomes a Yankee fan.*
My initial baseball fandom-and all sports- came from my mother. From her I learned how to do math using batting averages, the importance of going from first to third on a hit, and why bleacher seats are so much fun. I keep hearing about baseball being about fathers & sons - definitely true, just not in my house.
Let me cover playing baseball for exactly one paragraph.
Danielle has better fundamentals than I do. Ask anyone who has ever seen her play softball (or myself play softball). During Mets Family Day people were shocked at how good a player she is as my pregnant wife and I played long toss in the outfield.
So leaving the teaching of fundamentals to Danielle here are ten things I'll teach my daughter (in no order) about baseball
- Your team will give you the biggest joys and disappointments of your life
- If an opposing player reaches into the stands for a foul ball it is your DUTY as a fan to get in his way
- The importance of going from first to third on a hit
- A free baseball ticket is a good baseball ticket (and a thank you note a must)
- Become a Party Patrol person - because you get to fire the shirt gun
- Wins & ERA are useless - now FIP & K/9 are worth knowing
- Nothing wrong with Daddy having a shake shack, frites & a second burger
- Never wear a pink hat. Ever.
- When keeping score in the book and you miss a play look up the information on a mobile device (credit to Ben Kabak for that little trick)
- Every statistic, knowledge, or reality goes out the window when you're cheering your team and you just want them to win
I really hope she doesn't become a Yankee fan though. I don't know that Danielle or I could handle it.
Wayne
*If the Yankee situation comes up I'm brining in a child training expert in the form Danielle's old friend Jason - his son Joshua is a rabid Mets fan so obviously whatever Jason did paid off.
Follow me at www.twitter.com/wparillo
www.thejetscurse.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)