Photo Friday

View the entire Photo Friday collection on Flickr.

Labels: Photo Friday

The music meme

I desperately wanted to go to bed early tonight, so I asked for meme ideas on Twitter today, hoping to avoid the pattern of staying up too late wracking my brain for something to say. Alas, technology problems caused me to stay up too late anyway, but I appreciate Meg's tag for the music meme.

As usual with this one, most of the answers make no sense whatsoever, but there are a few funny song / question pairings:

1. If someone asks "Are you okay?" you say?
"Better" by Regina Spektor

2. How would you describe yourself?
"Cats on Mars" by the Seatbelts

3. What do you like in a guy/girl?
"One Piece at a Time" by Johnny Cash

4. How do you feel today?
"Restless Sinner" by the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

5. What is your life's purpose?
"Silent Sea" by KT Tunstall

6. What is your motto?
"My World" by Olive Lucy

7. What do your friends think of you?
"Pentagram" by Cake

8. What do you think about very often?
"Say it to You" by Caroline's Spine

9. What is 2+2?
"Babylon" by Don McLean

10. What do you think of your best friend?
"Carbon Monoxide" by Cake

11. What is your life story?
"On Call" by Kings of Leon

12. What do you want to be when you grow up?
"Modern Romance" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

13. What do you think when you see the person you like?
"White Trash Wedding" by the Dixie Chicks (HAAAAAA!)

14. What will you dance to at your wedding?
"Strawberry Wine" by Deanna Carter

15. How do you want to die?
"Mountain" by Tonic

16. What is your hobby/interest?
"Ozone Baby" by Led Zeppelin

17. What's your biggest fear?
"Zombie Jamboree" by Rockapella

18. What do you want right now?
"Rehab" by Amy Winehouse

19. What do you think of your (boy/girl)friend?
"Sin Wagon" by the Dixie Chicks (OMFG. Hilarious That's right, I said 'mattress dancing.' )

20. What is your favorite song?
"Swagger" by Flogging Molly

Labels: memes, music

Rest well, dear friend

My thoughts today (and beyond) are with my dear blogfriend Meg, who lost one of her wonderful dogs to cancer this morning. I can't remember exactly how Meg and I "met" online, but it seems to me that we clicked from the very beginning. I have long held onto the unlikely fantasy that one day we'd get together for a puppy-dog playdate so that Indy could meet her fabulous pack of three -- Mack, Clara Bow, and Streak.

In all probability we'll never manage, since we live quite far apart and will only live farther from each other when she completes her long-dreamed-of move to Alaska one day. But it's still a nice thing to wish for. Sadly, our meet-up with Mack will have to wait until a day far off in the future, when all are reunited again (because I've long felt that there's little point to having a Heaven unless dogs and people get to go to the same one).

Even though sassy little Clara Bow seems to easily capture people's attention (and I do love Clara Bow) and Streak the retired Iditarod sled dog has a wonderful backstory, I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Mack. Perhaps it's because his black coat and smiling eyes remind me so much of Indy, perhaps it's because there's something so endearing about the quietly quirky brother of two much more flamboyant girls. For myriad reasons, Mack will be dearly, dearly missed, by his pack of dogs and humans, and by those who have come to love him from afar through photos and stories.

Rest well, dear boy, and maybe one day we'll finally meet.

Clara Bow & Mack

You will know that I am gone

On my first post of the month, Little Miss Sunshine State asked what lullabies I'd be singing to the brachiopod when he arrives. When I was little, my mother sang a mix of lullabies ("Hush, Little Baby"), traditional songs ("Michael, Row Your Boat Ashore"), and Peter Paul & Mary. One of my favorites was the ant song, though she didn't sing the "to get out of the rain / Boom boom" part.

I suspect our own child will be serenaded with the songs I grew up with, and maybe a few others. Though I have to admit, the only song I'm sure I know all the lyrics to by heart is "The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia." No, I take that back. I'm sure I'll sing Camp songs to him, too.

While I was thinking about lullabies over the past day or so, I was also thinking about music other than lullabies that we can play for him. I have a suspicion that while he's very small, we'll pretty much play whatever we're in the mood for, and of course as he grows and becomes more parrot-y, we'll have to watch for language and content.

So far, he's only been given one CD of his own, and it's a really good one (Here Comes Science by They Might Be Giants). I've also listened to the Barenaked Ladies' kids' album Snacktime and figure he'll have that one at some point, too, and I'm not opposed to a little bit of Raffi here and there. Other than that, though, not sure (and we're open to suggestions)!

Labels: music, the brachiopod

How is a raven like a writing desk?

(click to biggify)


* Pickles & Dimes

* Greeblemonkey


Reading:  Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett

Playing:  Here Comes Science by They Might Be Giants. (It's technically the brachiopod's CD, given to him at his shower, but I figure he's listening to it, too, so it's fair.)

Fun Monday

I'm participating in this week's "Fun Monday" bloggy thingamajig, hosted by Ari at Beyond My Slab. The theme is What is the oldest possession in your house or flat? Describe it or show us a picture. Where did it come from? Why do you hang on to it?

I decided to go with the thing owned by me for the longest time. I have a book that belonged to my mom's father, but I've only had it in my possession since college, and I'm sure somewhere in my house there are photos older than the one I have of myself playing the piano at 9 months old. Come to think of it, the piano may be the one of the oldest things in the house, but it's only officially been mine since this summer.

The oldest thing in the house owned by me is...well...it's one of these guys:


I planned to write the post about the bear, but then when I went up to take his picture, I saw the rabbit and remembered that I don't actually know which one came first. The bear's name is Pumpy, and I can't be certain, but I'm guessing his name was inspired by the "pumping" of his internal mechanism. He winds up and plays "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." I got Pumpy in my Christmas stocking when I was very small, either two or three years old, judging by the pictures I remember seeing of me that go with the photo of him peeking out of the top of my stocking, all sleek and new and decked out with a white ribbon around his neck. Pumpy had a very close call when I was in middle school. His music box hadn't worked in years. He was wound tight, but the key was stuck. My mom was cleaning up my room, saw him, and thought I might not notice if she threw him away. I definitely would have noticed, so it's a good thing that the next thing happened. She told me as she picked him up to drop him into the trash bag, he spontaneously started to play, and he's worked fine ever since.

The rabbit is Bun Bun, and I'm not sure when I got him. I know he was in a very early Easter basket, because that's what Mom told me, but I don't know if it was my first Easter basket, or my second, or my third. If it was my first, it would make Bun Bun the thing I've owned the longest, since I had my first Easter when I was about five weeks old, a week after my parents brought me home. Bun Bun doesn't have any near-death experiences to share, at least as far as I know. When I packed up the last of my stuffed animals and moved into our house, I brought Pumpy and Bun Bun over with me. I truly can't remember a time when I didn't have them, so it felt like the right thing to do. They sit on a shelf on the bookcase in our bedroom, along with the teddy bear my mom made for me when I was four, the teddy bear I gave MB the first year we were dating to keep him company when I wasn't around, and the stuffed turtle MB gave me on the day we'd been going out for four months. I suspect they'll stay on the shelf even after the baby is born. They're a bit old for a rambunctious kid, and besides, he'll have his own toys to grow up with and to one day recall as the things he's had for the longest time.

No sleep 'til Brooklyn *

It's becoming harder and harder to sleep in, and I am disgruntled. On the rare occasion I have a weekend day when I can sleep in with MB (like, well, today), I'd really like to take advantage, considering how likely it is that our sleeping-in days are soon to come to a very definite end. However, lately it's become a challenge. If I stay in bed too long, my knees wake me up with the old-lady aching. One morning it was so bad that I dreamed my knees were aching, then woke up to find that they were. They don't hurt during the day, but if I try to sleep too long they have something to say about it. I wake up every few hours to roll over, which is getting harder by the week, and of course I have to get up at least once a night to pee, and sometimes more if I try to sleep late. Oh, and when I wake up to pee, I'm always absolutely parched and have to get a drink of water, which just perpetuates the getting-up-to-pee thing. I've been told that sleeping patterns naturally change during the third trimester to prepare the mother for what is coming, but this is one test I'd rather not study for ahead of time.

In other pregnancy news, I'm apparently at the point where people feel it's okay to comment on my size. Up until now, the comments I've received have been overwhelmingly sweet and supportive. One Monday, three coworkers exclaimed over how cute I looked before 10 AM. I was also told over the course of things that I looked "tiny," that I didn't look as far along as I was, and that I was "all belly," which is a good compliment (at least to me). But the other day someone said, "You're going to be a house by the end!" (I am a house, dammit, a house for a baby!) and then yesterday someone asked when I'm due, and when I said "January" he said, "That's going to be a big baby!" I'm not horribly offended, but really...I'm not that big, and I only have 8 weeks left. At least, I don't think I'm that big. Of course, I know I'm going to get bigger, but that's sort of the whole idea, right? OH. And for some reason it bugs me when people accuse me of waddling. I AM NOT WADDLING YET, Y'ALL. Ask me again in another few weeks, but for now I maintain that I am still mostly non-waddly.

In other-other news, I had to take the three-hour glucose tolerance test on Friday. It wasn't so horrible, but I'm starting to get nervous about the results. Being on a restricted diet through Thanksgiving and Christmas while pregnant sounds like a special kind of torture, in addition to worries about being pushed toward an early induction for a "big baby" and the increased chances of developing diabetes later in life if you have GD. So, if you can spare a few fingers to cross, I'd appreciate it. I'm hoping my OB's office will call tomorrow with the results so I don't spend the whole week sweating it.




* This title would be really funny if we were planning to name our baby Brooklyn, wouldn't it? Don't get all excited, though, it's not a clue. Staten is a way better name for a boy anyway.

Labels: the brachiopod

Randomocity

( 1 )  This amuses me greatly:

(click through to read the table of contents)

( 2 )  FreshMD wrote a great post about knitting. I love the idea of simple handwork-type crafts "priming the well" of our creative resources, though I admit that my knitting is FAR from perfect...I started a new scarf today and only got to the fourth stripe before I did a color change on the wrong side and kept going for a bit without noticing.


( 3 )  Click here to see the most hilariously wonderful pictures of a really pissed-off great horned owl in a box (via Mimi Smartypants).


( 4 )  This is one of the happiest sights on Earth:




( 5 )  Here's a photo of my own dog being inexplicably clingy, curled up under my chair with his head on my feet:



( 6 )  Thrift stores are awesome. They always feel full of potential.



Yes, that is two racks of dickeys. There was a third one, but I couldn't fit it in the photo. I have been shopping at thrift stores for years, and I've never seen a dickey for sale before. So, which is a more bizarre explanation -- this thrift store somehow accumulated enough dickeys from various donations to fill three racks, or one individual amassed this impressive collection of pseudo-shirts and then donated them?


( 7 )  The Belly at 32 weeks:


We went out to dinner at one of our favorite restaurants last night and the manager was holding the door when we arrived. He showed up at our table mid-meal, congratulated us on the impending baby, and offered us free dessert in celebration. Well, hell yes!



Reading:  Unseen Academicals by Terry Pratchett

Playing:  Hazards of Love by the Decemberists