The ParkerCam is back, and this time, it's personal.

Parker is at home today, but I've decided to give up a little of my own privacy so that he can continue to be famous:

Did anyone else remember that a year ago today (Feb. 13 in the U.S.), Dick Cheney shot someone? How time flies...

So I'm walking home at 8:15 pm, and I hear Civil Defense sirens. I'm just old enough to find the sound chilling. When I was a kid, CD sirens meant "tornado" or "Soviet missile attack." They sounded for about two full minutes, which I thought was gratuitious.

See, Evanston, Ill., sounded their CD sirens tonight to tell everyone to move their cars, just in case people missed the 20 cm of snow on the ground (parking restrictions take effect after 5 cm of snow).

I also found out, this storm has dropped more snow on Chicago than any other since I returned here in March 2000. As I walked home in my long underwear, thich Irish sweater, ski gloves, fleece scarf, snow boots, and heavy jacket, I thought, "you know, it's not so bad..." Not to mention, Parker is having a grand old time, though it did pain me to see him try to do his business with snow all the way to his chin.

This weather builds character, after all.

Late update: The Chicago Tribune has picked up the story.

So I'm in my office, working on stuff, when all of a sudden my speakers go haywire, then dead. Yup: Parker bit right through the speaker wire, destroying the best computer speakers I've ever had, which were about $150 back in 1998.

You know, sometimes I forget things. Today, for example, in getting Parker to give my boots back to me and rushing to get to the play group, I forgot the ParkerCam at home.

So, Parker is in the office, but this is probably the only office-puppy shot we'll have today:

The temperature in Chicago hasn't gotten above freezing since the 27th, and we're getting more snow—50 mm so far today. At least it's warmer: for 7 of the past 9 nights the temperature has fallen below -18°C, but right now it's a balmy -3°C.

Oh, who am I kidding? Syracuse, N.Y., has over 30 cm of snow on the ground, which is nothing compared with the 3 m reported in parts of nearby Oswego County. And up in Crane Lake, Minn., it's -31°C, and not likely to get warmer any time this week.

I guess it's not so bad here.

It's amazing how long the hand puppet has survived, despite Parker's best efforts:

It seemed like the perfect toy: a hand-puppet with extra padding and a squeaky, so that Parker could play with our hands and (a) not really compute that hands are involved and (b) not bite our hands to shreds. When finished with the toy, we put it back in Parker's toy basket.

Well, last night, Parker decided to play with the toy, and as is his wont, he disemboweled it:

It turns out, despite a brief plateau in January, Parker continues to grow by about 600 g per week. He's now up to 22.4 kg:

Ordinarily I would not be happy to wake up at 5:15am. Today, however, I was overjoyed, because except for a brief moment around 1:30 when I had to shove Parker's fuzzy butt out of my space (he was laying across the bed almost completely), we both slept through the night.

I love Parker. Who wouldn't? I mean, look at him, sleeping so peacefully:

But last night around 2:30am he was neither peaceful nor adorable.

The smartest person in Texas, Molly Ivins, died yesterday at age 62. She knew Dubya better than he did. She will be missed.

If there was one thing Molly wanted us to understand, it's that the world of politics is absurd. Since we can't cry, we might as well laugh. And in case we ever forgot, Molly would remind us, several times a week, in her own unique style.

[T]here was more to Molly Ivins than insightful political commentary packaged in an aw-shucks Southern charm. In the coming days, much will be made of Molly's contributions to the liberal cause, how important she was as an authentic female voice on opinion pages across the country, her passionate and eloquent defense of the poorest and the weakest among us against the corruption of the most powerful, and the joy she took in celebrating the uniqueness of American culture—and all of this is true. But more than that, Molly Ivins was a woman who loved and cared deeply for the world around her. And her warm and generous spirit was apparent in all her words and deeds.