It's hard to follow up on the breathless wait for PTBNL news with something nowhere near as big, but I've qualified for the US Fencing Association Summer Nationals in Division III Women's Sabre. Div III is the lowest adult division, but I still had to finish in the top half in the state to make it this far.

I've been fencing for a bit over two years, and fencing sabre for exactly one -- you all have encouraged me through it all. Even though I thought for many years that it was a reallyreallyreally cool thing, I would never have actually started fencing if it weren't for the Buffistas. It's all your fault, really.

Can I ask for a bit of timely warmth, to send a dying acquainance?

Allen Cohen, founder of the Oracle, old San Francisco poet, and general beautiful man of peace, is about to lose a long battle with cancer. When he goes, a very lovely light in this world will go out.

Just a bit of warmth to ease him on his way, if you would. If anyone on this earth would sense it out there, Allen would.

Thanks.

This is Susan's DH again.

Annabel Charlotte W. Born 0423 GMT -7 (PDT) 6 April 2004 7 lbs 6 oz (3164g), 20" (50.4cm)

A hellish labor. If it could go wrong, it probably did. But mom is doing OK, dad is hanging in there, and Annabel is doing the best of all.

More details will follow after mom and dad get some rest.

Dinner/BBQ/eat-good-food thing at Deb's in SF, 4 PM, this Saturday (the 10th). Ha! I will finally be on the inside looking out when it comes to Grabien Cooking! Because man, I've been jealous.

She needs a headcount by Friday, so any local folks who want to come, let her know.

Speaking of cooking:

To those who requested lemony baked goodness (Matt the Bruins Fan, KristinT, Amyparker, Lee, Vortex, sj, Astarte and Betsy), all went out this morning via Priority Mail. If you can let me know when they arrive safely, that would be a Good Thing. And the lemons came from Betsy's trees, so it's double-Buffista baking.

Remember to heat your goodies up; they're infused with lemon syrup, and heating melts it down nicely.

damn. I think my DH just gave birth to a guitar. This is the second one he has made - but this is really the first.

Not apocolyptish, but...

I recently bought a pair of Vans sneakers , and have since found I just cannot wear them (they taper too quickly on the left foot and are pinching my small toes). They're a size 7 1/2, and barely worn, if anyone is interested.

ETA: taken.

Just a little something to say:

Please check HERE for special message.

This is finally Susan W. rather than the DH thereof.

Cliff Notes version of the last five days of my life:

We're both alive and well. Or, Annabel is well and I'm recuperating. The induction was slow to take, and when it finally did and I finally got to the pushing stage, our girl would barely budge and her heart rate kept decelerating with each contraction. Changing my position helped her but hurt my pushing abilities, especially since I'd been at it (the pushing part alone) for 3 hours at that point. I was completely drained and ready for a c-section, but after we discussed our options decided to try forceps first. Turns out the head of OB-GYN at UWMC was there, and is one of the world experts on forcep-assisted delivery, so after that everything went quickly. I ended up with a fairly severe tear (3rd degree), but that was the fault of the anesthesia rather than the forceps--I couldn't control my muscles quickly enough when they told me to stop pushing and she just kinda shot out all at once.

Annabel is beautiful. I think she looks like DH and he thinks she looks like me. (Those of you who've met us both will recognize that this is a matter of nuance.) There are some pictures on DH's fotolog:

Pictures here.

More later, perhaps days later. We're working on feeding and sleeping now.

My father's going in for a PET scan tomorrow to determine if his cancer has metastasized. The results will determine whether he gets palliative care or has a small hope of a cure.

Simultaneously, my grandmother has been hospitalized with severe digestive problems; we don't know the cause yet.

All the -ma you can spare, please.