A few more swimming pictures in honor of the last day of August.

Ky is a fearless jumper. 
Seb is an anthropomorphic sprinkler. 
Abe is too busy holding his breath to be photographed. 
Daisy slept through it all in her stroller.


Things we accept in fictional dialogue, that are never actually said in real life

Exhibit A: the repeated fragment (aka "the Lord of the Rings Movie Rule").
"Oh Samwise, will we ever reach the end of this dark place?"
"Indeed we will, Mr. Frodo. Indeed we will."

I think this one is intended to add weight and finality to a saying that doesn't have enough weight on its own. You feel you can't simply end the scene/chapter with "Sure we will!" so you add in another just for good measure.

Exhibit B: The prescient interruption
M: I don't know if you're mad or . . .
P: Desperately in love?

Interrupting to finish someone else's sentence? Who's quick enough on the uptake to do that? Takes too much foreknowledge on the part of the interrupter. And even if that part worked out, the interuptee would still be finishing his/her original sentence, rendering the interruption too hard to hear/decipher.

Exhibit C. The lovey-dovey full name (aka the "Work and the Glory" rule)

"You'll be the death of me yet, Jenny McGee!"

[often used in combination with exhibit A:
"You're a spirited woman, Jenny McGee! A spirited woman!"]

According to books and movies, there's no term of spousal endearment like the full name. (A close second: calling your wife "Mrs. ___": "What a woman you are, Mrs. McGee! Come and kiss me!") But I've never heard this usage in real life. For the child in trouble, yes. But for your spouse? What are you, a telephone directory? If your spouse doesn't know who is being referred to when they hear their first name alone, something is wrong. ("Jenny? Jenny who? Oh . . . Jenny McGee! That's ME!") And if you think "Mrs. McGee" is a good substitute for "darling" . . . something is also wrong.

Well? Any others?


A few photos, as I'm clearing out my "share" folder:

The family a couple days before Daisy was born. (Who is that poor woman in the middle? She looks exhausted.)

Bear sweater and hat I made for baby Benjamin
3 boys holding cameras up to their eyes

Pretty sunflower

Darling superhero outfits made for us by a friend (there's also a Superman one for Sebby)---don't you love "Wonder Woman"?

Abe wanted his cape to fly out behind him



Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the word

Sweet the rain's new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light Eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God's re-creation of the new day

(lyrics by Eleanor Farjeon)

Daisy's birth didn't happen as quickly as I expected it to. I figured that each baby would come faster than the last, so when I woke up around 3 a.m. Friday morning feeling some contractions, I thought we'd probably have a baby by that evening. I got up and walked around the house and the yard, enjoying the quiet. There was a nearly-full moon.

When it got late enough, I called my mom, and she came to pick up the boys. My midwife, Cathy, came over and checked me. "Everything looks good," she said. "Just relax and enjoy the day."

It was the most beautiful day. Sam stayed home from work, and all the boys were gone. We hadn't had a quiet day like that in ages. It didn't feel like August outside---the air was a little bit cool, and the sun was warm, almost like it was Fall already. I felt great---good enough to walk around and be active, but not SO good that I didn't think things were progressing along. We went on a long bike ride. We went on a walk. We went to the store for fresh bread and made turkey sandwiches and a berry smoothie for lunch.

There, I fixed it



I've always wished I was one of those fragile women that faints when upset. I've only even felt faint a few times in my life, and I've never actually managed to go through with it. Sometimes when I was fasting or something I used to close my eyes and think of floating and try to will myself into falling over, but it didn't work. Once I went running right after giving blood and I hoped the whole time I might faint. But I didn't. I just felt sick and hungry. And tired.

There was a girl at the temple the other day (and she wasn't even pregnant) who swayed delicately and nearly fell over. She looked lovely doing it. I was jealous. I think I'm one of those sturdy German farmwife-types with good birthing hips and "ample arms." I do appreciate it mostly, but sometimes I just wish I was more of a delicate flower. *sigh*
Powered by Blogger.
Back to Top