07 April 2007

before i call the vet


dwindling supply, originally uploaded by McBeth.

Before I call the vet... I will brush his coat. He's either disinterested or having difficulty cleaning himself and he could use a de-matting.

Before I call the vet... I will sort out where he'll be buried.

Before I call the vet... I will continue giving him IV fluids so he's not too weak to make what I can only imagine will be a long journey.

Before I call the vet... rather than listening to him yowling on the other side of my closed bedroom door I will bring him inside to sleep with me.

Before I call the vet... I will whisper a few more secrets to him, because I know he will keep them safe, as he has with hundreds of others over all these years.

scarlett's hands




I have two weeks' worth of nephew and niece visits to catch up on but it's been a little chaotic at the McMansion and I can only do what I can do. That means I have a backlog. That means I feel some guilt for having let more than is balanced and comfortable for me go. That means it might slightly resemble a constipated digestion tract around these here parts for a bit, but I can promise that it will be neither horribly painful nor will it last long.

So please enjoy my youngest niece's hands while she learns the secrets of untying the knots on her momma's drum. She and I hung out together for a little while when her momma had an appointment (and a not-exactly-small need to get the heck outta dodge for some grownup time). Daddy had to work today too, so Scarlett and I flopped on pillows, played with stuffed animals, made noises like real animals, read books, and played music until The Momma(tm) returned.

Scarlett's parents encourage her to try nearly everything that won't outrightly hurt her. In that 'don't break the baby' category there are only a few no-nos and the few are mostly diet-related. She is life-threateningly and intensely allergic to tree and ground nuts, eggs and dairy so she eats nearly entirely from a whole food diet to avoid the hidden bombs that might be waiting for her in prepared foods.

She's got a somewhat frightening amount of language for an 18 month old. I don't remember my son speaking in sentences at that same age but Scarlett can string together 4-5 words that make grownup sense. She appropriately uses pronouns. She can ask questions. She can save and recall complicated multisyllabic words. Wow. As the parent of a boychild I never bothered getting my knickers in a knot over where he was on that imaginary bell curve; you know, the one that indicates the precise, the accurate and the earlybirds along with the dingbats, the slowpokes, and the late bloomers ... frankly, I had enough to contend with raising him on my own, so I was glad to have him however he developed. And he's done perfectly.

As for my sister, I tease her by telling her she's gotten exactly the child she was meant to have. And that her baby is a freak.

05 April 2007

goodness me, what terrible google manners


dam yellow dot, originally uploaded by McBeth.

Confidental to Rhode Island:

You may well be trying to find disparaging compatriots in your googlesearch but I think you'll have to move along 'cuz there's nothing to see here.

Fine, you think Tret Fure sucks. Got it. But consider for a moment that you, yourself, might not be Tret's cuppa tea either.

At least Tret has the decency to keep that information to herself.

02 April 2007

noise




Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she has laid an asteroid.

-- Mark Twain

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