I was up way early today – 530. Couldn’t tell why. It actually cooled down a bit last night, what with the rain, so the sleeping was comfortable enough. One of the neighbors’ babies was crying (we are a block full of babies and toddlers, this is a not-uncommon occurrence); but it didn’t wake me up, I just noticed once I was awake. I actually feel pretty good – no low-lying hum of anxiety or morbid thoughts swirling thru my defective brain. Sometimes you just wake up early, I guess. And so you blog : ).
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I came home from work yesterday to a package containing a book – John Irving’s Son of the Circus, which I want to read and thought I’d just buy until Peg offered her copy. Thanks, Peg!
It’s such a cool thing to get a book in the mail. My friend Allie once called me, very excited, because a friend of hers who worked for a publishing house in New York had sent her a random box of review copies and new books that were just lying around the publishers. Not that she had even opened it yet; just the *anticipation* of a WHOLE BOX OF BOOKS, all for her. She told me she called me because I was the only other person she knew who would be as excited, and would be excited for her.
It reminded me of receiving a package from my mom when I was in college. My mom was a world-class package-sender. I got them for all major and most minor holidays, and sometimes just because. Sometimes she’d send one to my roommate too, or my best friend, or my boyfriend, depending on her mood. And they were marvels of packing. Not an inch of space was wasted, and they were always full of the best, most unexpected things, and comfort foods, and little doodads that just cheered me up and made me happy. I think one of the things I miss most since she’s gone is my mom’s packages. The only thing that remotely approaches that happy, anticipatory feeling is when someone sends me books in the mail!
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The French Lieutenant’s Woman is picking up steam. The characters become increasingly compelling. However, I am finding a very strange juxtaposition between the 19th-century Hardy-esque tone of the narrative concerning the characters, and the parts where the narrator steps beyond what in theatre we call the fourth wall and explains his motivation behind the characters’ actions, or his lack of control over his characters, or whatever. It’s written well, but each time he does it, I feel as if I am missing something about the story, and sometimes I get annoyed and just want him to go away and let me, the reader, get on with the story: can’t he make his characters and their actions do the exposition for him? I am hoping I discover his purpose for this device as the book continues.
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Yesterday Jude brought home his Humpty Dumpty art project. He was wildly excited and couldn’t wait to tape it to his bedroom wall. I’ve know for a while now that he loves Humpty; I have a Humpty cookie jar on a shelf in the kitchen that sends him into paroxysms of joy. So I guess Humpty is his favorite nursery rhyme. I have always liked Hey Diddle Diddle the best, although the sinister nuances of the word diddle do give me pause for thought. Am I crazy that, at the age of 35, I have a favorite nursery rhyme? Hmmm…
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In honor of this website with hilarious commentary on modern-day baby-naming practices (and atrocities), which has kept me entertained at work for several hours (thank you, Jeenah!), I am renaming my children. Or at least re-spelling their names. Si will be Psymn, and Jude will henceforth be Jhood. The new one will be Jhamyz if a boy and Eallynhoor if a girl. The cats will be Emmmi and Sep will become 7timus. The goldfish will become Kneemo Aenghys.
Wow, I give those people credit, that’s harder to do than you’d think!
3 comments:
I've always liked Peas porridge hot/Peas porridge cold/Peas porridge in the pot/Nine days old.
It's got a nice rhythm. :-)
Ted never cared for any of them--unless I sang them. Ever notice that the ABC song, Baa Baa Black Sheep, and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star all have the same melody? I used to sing them in a loop, over and over. Good times.
Glad the package arrived. It is cool to get a book in the mail, isn't it! Or any package or card or letter. I like sending people mail -- and receiving it too for that matter. Your mom sounds like she was a neat lady.
Si makes me do the Peas porridge hot rhyme like the Clash...you know, normal till the last line, that you then growl and yell simultaneously: "NINE DAYS OLD!!!!"
And yes, I do love mail. Sadly most of my correspondence has gone to email, but a nice lengthy email is pleasant enough as well.
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