Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Still life with humble beginnings

May 13, 2008

Today after a good day of sunshine the ground dried out enough that I wasn't afraid of my elder daughter being swallowed whole by the muck if I took her outside. So we planted this small plant, a mystery plant that she brought home for me on Friday, that she had planted and watered and grown for weeks with her teacher as part of my Mother's Day gift. (I also received from her a keychain made from a key ring attached to a plastic frame with a picture of her in it, which was wrapped in purple tissue paper, which her teacher probably used because she knows how much E likes purple, not realizing that that would also drive E to open the gift herself, convincing herself, because it was purple, that it was hers, and which I held in my hands for less than a minute, only long enough to attach it to E's keys, which she walked around with so proudly, so proud to have her own keys and so proud to have her picture on them, that the keychain broke somewhere, and her picture is lost in the house, after which she walked around still clutching her keys, despondently repeating I broke me.)

Anyway. She's so proud of this plant, and it's been home five whole days and not died yet, and it's begun sprouting roots through its cardboard pot, so we planted it right between the rose bushes. And my daughter, she brought this thing to life, and she's got so much spunk and vim and faith in the power of possibility, I have to watch it grow carefully. It just might be the magic beanstalk. Pin It

The anticlimaxes

The basement is fine, except maybe a little cleaner, leaner, and more organized. The sump pump is fine, except what’s the point of having a sump pump if it just pumps into ground so wet that the liquid comes back in the house anyway, as said ground isn’t taking any more visitors at this time, leave your name at the door, maybe we’ll call you tomorrow. The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain, and no longer in our crawl space.

And L took so easily, so naturally to rice cereal that it almost wasn’t interesting. She opened her mouth for the spoon, and ate. When she was full, she stopped opening her mouth. No cereal in her hair or on the high chair tray. I don’t actually think she even touched it at all with her hands. It only took one wipe to clean up from that meal. Maybe her sister can learn from that. She’s eaten it twice in daycare too, just like a pro, just like the big kids do it, those crazy seven-month-olds. So maybe it’s time to move on to the really good stuff. Like sweet potato.

My brain – it’s so quiet inside. It feels so unfamiliar, this way.
Pin It