the shirt still fits

July 2006:

And today:

Party of five.
January 31, 2009.

The Big Sister has stated, for the record, that she would prefer a baby PUPPY this time around.

party in back

I wish I could take better pictures. But can you see what's going on here?

Excepting the two dread locks we've had to snip off this month, the bird dog has never had a haircut. We figure if it starts to bother him we'll do something about it, but the front is surprisingly well-behaved.

It makes me sad that I can't take better pictures. Have you seen Robin's blog? And Margie's? And Hilary's? And Chrys'? And Bethany's? And Ari's (people PAY her to take pictures!) They are all over there in my favorites. It's inspiring I tell you. Artistry.

I decided to stop reading One Hundred Years of Solitude after 200 pages. I rarely don't finish a book but it was oppressive and strange and I was having to force myself, which really defeats the purpose of recreational reading. I was validated when the other couple of girls who were reading it with me had made the same decision. Time is short, art is long. That's Longfellow I think. I picked up The Bell Jar last week and read it again. It's depressing, which, you know, isn't particularly surprising considering that even though it's supposed to be fiction, it is an almost totally autobiographical account of Sylvia Plath's suicidal descent. I think it's cheating to call a book fiction when all you do is change everyone's name and have a few composite characters. To her credit, she did originally publish it under a pseudonym to protect all involved. Then after she died it was republished under her real name. It always feels a little invasive to read books that are published after the author dies. John Kennedy Toole's mom found the manuscript of Confederacy of Dunces in his desk after he killed himself (writing is a happy, happy profession) and, though she had no real understanding of its merits, had the sense to send it to someone who did. Walker Percy, if I remember correctly. Anyway, now I am soothing myself with some Jane Austen. I wish there were more than six. Though I never seem to get tired of rereading them.

Well, it was Tuesday so I felt I really should post. That should be enough.

Glory days

We let Harper stay up a little past her bedtime to watch gymnastics a couple of nights ago. She has been talking about it for weeks so I found her response a little underwhelming actually. She watched the first floor exercise intently and, about halfway through it said, "They don't do gymnastics like I do gymnastics." I think what she meant is that most of "her" gymnastics is fairly limited to the ground, while theirs is mostly airborne. She went on, with a nonchalant air: "I used to do it like that, a long time ago." The husband and I barely contained our glee. "When did you do it like that, Harper?" he queried. She took a nice long pause, clearly searching the time-space continuum for that exact moment when she had actually been able to do a full twisting double back somersault into a punch front. "I did it like that," she finally explained patiently, "before Hudson was very tiny." Ohhh, way back then. She lost interest after about 15 minutes, which meant that I had to miss an entire rotation while I read her bedtime stories. I am TOTALLY LOVING the Olympics. Staying up way too late, weeping during national anthems (not just ours either--though I found Japan's rather uninspiring), pumping my fist all by myself (I mean SERIOUSLY did anyone see the ending of the 400 m freestyle relay?? Come ON. Lezak was SUPER human). I think I have mentioned before the rather ambivalent feelings I have toward Sport in general, but I am a sucker for this stuff.

The husband and I got to have a date Friday night so we missed the opening ceremony. I didn't care very much. We went to see "The Dark Knight." It was intense. It should really be titled "The REALLY, REALLY Dark Knight." I closed my eyes quite a bit because even the stylized violence was too much for me. But I thought it was a really well done movie. All of the press about Heath Ledger's performance is merited--he really is so bizarre and fascinating to watch.

So I saw a bumper sticker on Friday that made me think about the presidential election. It read:

CATS NOT KIDS

Now, here's the thing. Why is this lady not just okay with liking her cats? Why does she need to proclaim (and it really is a proclamation when you put it on your car) that not only does she choose to have cats, but she chooses to disparage having kids. I mean if you love something or someone, by all means extol its virtues, but why does something else have to be put down in the process? SO. This illustrates why I loathe negative campaigns. Why can't we just want to vote FOR someone because they have the positive attributes (or at least some of them) that we're looking for, instead of voting AGAINST someone who frightens us? Three long months until election day and I'm tired already.

Mr. Bean

I heard Hudson using his higher than normal pitched voice in the kitchen. He only uses this special voice when there are animals or insects to converse with so I was a little leery at what I might find. He was squatting down having a very animated discussion with an errant coffee bean that had fallen under the counter. He mistook it, I suppose, for a little bug friend. (The coffee bean, incidentally, came from Nicaragua, where our church has developed a relationship with some coffee farmers from whom they buy the beans directly. Fair trade at its most basic.) Here is the boy with Harper's new frog (with which, most surprisingly, she has been incredibly generous) wearing his new frog pj's:
In other Animal Related News, we had, when we first moved into the new place, a veritable tribe of rolly-pollies (sp?) roaming around. Most of them have moved out but there's one unfortunate little fellow, long dead, who has been laying on his back for several weeks right at the baseboard behind the rocking chair in Hudson's room. I don't know why I didn't dispose of him when I first noticed. The same reason I still haven't unpacked 75% of my closet, I suppose. Anyway, Harper discovered Dead Rolly Polly, only she refuses to believe that he is, in fact, dead. She has thought of all sorts of amusements and enticements to raise him from his eternal repose. She tries to persuade him to hop on the rocking horse for a wild ride. She leaves cars and books nearby. It's very sweet and more than a little sad.

Is anyone else a little creeped out by the enormous, tumor-like mass of seeds inside of bell peppers? We like bell peppers around here (red, orange, and yellow only--the green ones only the husband enjoys) but every time I cut one open I am a little frightened. What if the Bible verse said "faith like a bell pepper seed mass" instead of mustard seed? We'd all be in trouble.

I was an inveterate speeder most of my life. I was an appallingly bad driver in high school (passed the driving test on the THIRD try) but did not let that stop me from whizzing around at excessive speeds in my V-8 Camaro (I know, it's like a John Hughes movie). Then in college I got approximately 27 speeding tickets a year because for some reason it seemed terribly important to cut 15 minutes off of my drive time from Port Neches to College Station. I got a little better when I had to start paying for my own tickets and defensive driving, but I still sped, mostly because I was always running late to something. This changed when I had kids. Now I usually drive a little under the posted speed limit and, since I read in a Wall Street Journal article that I could save anywhere from 24 to 84 cents per gallon, I don't drive over 60 on the highway. This, it turns out, makes some other drivers Extremely Frustrated. I stay in the far right lane (feeling smug that instead of complaining about High Gas Prices!! I am actually doing something to alleviate part of the problem) and they fly past shaking their heads and their fists.

Latest cable indulgence: Jon and Kate Plus 8. This couple had twins then sextuplets, then they invited a camera crew to film their days. It's highly entertaining. Especially considering that tonight's network offerings included Wipeout!, Celebrity Family Feud, and I Survived a Japanese Game Show. Seriously? What poor sap had to call the advertisers on those gems?