Working in Crescent City, Calif.

After working in Palm Springs for a year-and-a-half, I made the big leap and became a managing editor of a newspaper once again. In October 2006, I went to work in Crescent City, Calif., at The Daily Triplicate newspaper.

It was a wonderful opportunity, and my staff and I made a lot of changes in the news we covered and the paper's look. Perhaps the biggest story we covered was when a tsumani wiped out part of our harbor. We won lots of awards for our writing!

I lived in a really nice three-bedroom ranch house with a garage and huge yard. It was about a mile or so from the Pacific Ocean.

But the most important thing that happened to me in Crescent City was that you were born while I was living there! I shall tell you all about that in a future entry!

First moments together as father & son

I want to share my very first moments with you, Kieran – they came only seconds after you were born. Once the nurses had cleaned you and wrapped you in a blanket, they handed you to me, and I held you in my arms for more than an hour. Your mother had a C-section and so was wheeled off into recovery; why they wouldn’t let all three of us be together, I don’t know.

But there you were in my arms, no more than a few minutes old and already looking around at the room around you with this most confused look on your face, as if you wondering where in the heck you were and how the heck you got there. Your irises were so blue against the white of your eyes.

So I said, “I bet you’re wondering where you are?”

You looked up at me as if you recognized my voice but couldn’t quite figure out who I was.

“You’re in the Milky Way galaxy on a star about a third of the way from its center,” I said, and your face lit up as if you were all excited by the prospects. “That star is called Sol, and you’re on its third planet, Earth, specifically the North American continent in a city on the Pacific Ocean called Eureka.”

I no more than said Earth and you grimaced, as if thinking, “Of all my lousy luck, I end up on Earth!”

Then I continued, “And I bet you’re wondering what time it is, too.”

Once again, you gazed up at me as if you recognized my voice but couldn’t quite figure out who I was.

“It’s about a 14.5 billion years after the Big Bang,” I said, and again your face lit up as if you were all excited by your good fortune. “It’s the 21st century, specifically the year 2007, and it’s just a few minutes after midnight on Feb. 24.”

I no more than said the 21st century and you again grimaced, as if thinking, “Oh damn, of all the times to be born on Earth, it had to be the 21st century!”

I smiled and we gazed into one another’s eyes for a while, and then you fell asleep. You looked so peaceful.

The night you born, and as holding you, I wore a T-shirt with the mission patch for Gemini VII, the craft that was in space the night I was born. When you are older, and we meet again, I will give you that T-shirt. It still has your sweet baby scent upon it.