There is going to be a wedding! We are very excited for Seth’s Uncle Mike and his beautiful bride, Anya (such a pretty name, too). Time to celebrate with them in Memphis can’t come quickly enough.
Seth and I decided that if we could go back in time, we ALL would have made it to Amanda’s wedding last summer. With a newborn and nearly two-year old at the time, it was hard to know what we could manage. But I think what we really can’t manage is missing out on important family events.
I’m a town in Carolina, I’m a detour on a ride
For aphone call and a soda, I’m a blur from the driver’s side
I’m the last gas for an hour if you’re going twenty-five
I am Texaco and tobacco, I am dust you leave behind
I am peaches in September, and corn from a roadside stall
I’m the language of the natives, I’m a cadence and a drawl
I’m the pines behind the graveyard, and the cool beneath their shade, where the boys have left their beer cans
I am weeds between the graves.
My porches sag and lean with old black men and children
Their sleep is filled with dreams, I never can fulfill them
I am a town.
I am a church beside the highway where the ditches never drain
I’m a Baptist like my daddy, and Jesus knows my name
I am memory and stillness, I am lonely in old age; I am not your destination
I am clinging to my ways
I am a town.
I’m a town in Carolina, I am billboards in the fields
I’m an old truck up on cinder blocks, missing all my wheels
I am Pabst Blue Ribbon, American, and “Southern Serves the South”
I am tucked behind the Jaycees sign, on the rural route
I am a town
I am a town
I am a town
Southbound.
Love this song by Mary Chapin Carpenter.
(image from Shelby Farms, Memphis)
31.8 percent of all U.S. birth are now surgical, says CDC.
Unnecesarean – clever blog name.
I’ve noticed this family making the news. I’m so sorry for their situation, but I am so glad the country is hearing about the problem. Considering the fact that the maternal mortality rate in the U.S. is the highest it’s been in decades, it’s about time the issue came up. Let’s at least listen to someone’s story. In countries where midwives attend the births outcomes are worlds better.
Poor thing!
It seems Andy has coughed up some bronchitis. In our house being sick and under age 3 usually means that all of us are sleep-deprived to some extent. The only reason I have time to blog right now is because Seth took Andy to the ER at TMC (more on that below), and Daisy is fast asleep.
Andy slept a portion of last night on me. We finally brought him to our bed by 3:30 or so in the morning, and he sat sideways on my lap with his head just tucked under my right collar bone and my shoulder. And it was in this position that I made such a delightful discovery about our son. He talks in his sleep! Between snores, he managed to communicate that it was, “Andy’s turn,” and something about “Winnie-Pooh.” I am crazy about him.
The doctor ordered a chest X-ray today. Daisy and I went to Target to get Andy’s prescription filled while Seth took Andy to have his picture taken. I would love to have copies of those X-rays. I bet they were cute. Little toddler X-ray. Right now I’m just worried and anxious about his droopy spirit and his little dehydrated body. I can’t seem to tell him enough how much I love him. He’s very lethargic and keeps to his fever, not to mention the little guy wont eat or drink a thing. So we hope that they (the ER peoples) will get him hydrated. I’m praying that Andy will have a stout heart, that Daisy will NOT come down with bronchitis , and that Seth will have mountains of energy for tonight. Love you, Seth.
My heart goes out to Stephen and Merri Hackett, and their darling Josiah. I have much to learn from you.
On Friday, Andy, Daisy and I get on a plane to see my parents in Denver. I am so excited about putting on a sweater! We will likely spend every waking moment OUTSIDE since our hometown villain, heat-exhaustion, will be miles away. I can’t wait to go to BSF with my mom. Dad and I will probably take the kids on many strolls around the neighborhood. The little prairie bunnies will probably make Andy very happy, as well as the harvest corn maze the neighborhood puts up every fall. This is by far my favorite season…in just about every other state in the nation.
Unfortunately, the getting in and out of the airport thing, the flying by myself with two kids in diapers thing, and missing Seth so much that I feel sick, will have to be endured. Here’s hoping for a kind and sensible seat-mate!
or “A Bicycle Built for Two”
My Granddad started singing it to our little Daisy when we went up to Prescott for a visit, and naturally I fell in love with the song. (Someday I can tell Daisy that her very special great-granddaddy sang this song to her.) Since then, we have been singing our little version of Daisy Bell.
The song would have been considered an “oldie” to my Granddad when he was a boy, and over the years many have created their own versions of the melody. Andy really likes the song (he says “bi-cuh-cuh”), so we got onto the iTunes store to sort through them all and pick one. Most of them are sung by children or for children, and they all sound the same. Pretty much all of the rest are of the country bumpkin sort. I was hoping to find one that I could appreciate for its uniqueness, since our Daisy is one of a kind. Something a little jazzy and fun (think Stacey Kent), but dainty and a little other-worldly (like Priscilla Ahn) too.
You’re given a 30 second preview of the track on iTunes, and I stumbled across a Jazz group called Tin Hat (see track #5). I bought it for 99 cents, and instead of the 30 second preview repeated and re-arranged, what we got was a haunting, hell-ish disaster! The longer I listened to “sweet Daisy Bell,” the more I felt certain I had heard Jack Nicholson sing it in The Shining*. There was nothing left to do except purchase one of those country bumpkin versions to clean up the mess. Maybe I can write Priscilla Ahn and ask her to re-do the song.
*In defense of Tin Hat, it should probably be mentioned (and I should just admit to myself once and for all) that I am easily disturbed. For instance, I can hardly sit through a BBC film of Charles Dickens’ Nicholas Nickleby with my literature loving husband without feeling quite frightened and upset before the end. (sorry Seth)
“…Christ gave the Holy Spirit to the Church as the divine gift, and as the
incessant and inexhaustible fount of sanctification.”
Pope John Paul II
Cinderella’s slippers. Don’t be deceived, I’m not referring to her glass dancing shoes. To be sure, she did all of her chores wearing these darling little black flats. For only 12.99* at Target, you too can hide your ever-un-manicured toes. Unfortunately, upon arriving at home and walking in them some, I discovered that the pair I bought is actually a bit too small. Alas.
*Cheery, sing-song spirit in spite of bad circumstances not included.
