dug 
When I started the log, it was going to be somewhere for me to put thoughts about our pregnancy. It seemed like I had never written anything down and life was most definitely feeling like sand between fingers. So there has been the odd post about the pregnancy and there will be pictures as soon as we have some (scans don’t show much as the one we have a print-out from is quite early) and if Nicki changes her mind, there even be a webcam in the hospital. Mind you, this last idea is probably not such a good one as who really wants to watch somebody else’s birth first hand?
Recently, I find that instead of reporting on daily goings on, I am spending considerable time with memories.
If anyone reads this thing, and you think my past is less interesting than my future, (and who wants to listen to dug waffling on about something that happened ten or even twenty years ago) write in and complain. For now, my take on it is that I’m going to enjoy the reminiscing on paper for a wee while longer, because in a way, it completes the log - not that I plan on dieing any time soon, but better be on the safe side ;-)
For those that don’t know me and don’t connect with where I’m from, the potted start-line summary is as follows (semicolon / colon ?):
Born in San Francisco, USA on 20th January 1963 - a few months before Kennedy is shot. Mother (Ruth - which means mercy if I’m not mistaken) is American, from New York, daughter of Norwegian immigrants Tonny and Reidar Ohna. Father (Jed - Americanised from John Edward Douglas) is English, escaping post world war UK gloom in the groovy sunshine of California (probably quite sensible). He is the son of Douglas and Elsie Falby.
I lived in sf for a couple of years, then moved to New York City (August 1965), living on 3rd Ave and 9th street (Ruth tells me) in Manhattan. A year or two later, Jed and Ruth make the inevitable evolutionary step and move to Cos-Cob Connecticut (April 1967) where they buy a perfect house and set about raising their perfect children (because I have a sister - Ohna, born a year after me). I say perfect, because a) the one or two fleeting memories I have of the house are all happy ones and b) because Jed worked in advertising, Ruth stayed at home and this really was the American dream incarnate.
1968 arrives and Jed and Ruth embark on the European adventure (moved to France July 1968). More about this when I’m not falling asleep (it’s 1 am here in London). Suffice it to say that my Eurotrash roots are now set in motion (one can’t set roots in motion but you know what I mean) as I am not to return to the united states until the Summer of Sam.
Strange dug trivia - Manhattan has only ever had two complete black-outs. The first in 1965, the second in 1977. I was caught in both of them…