Archive | August, 2007

Beach sky

In keeping with the breezy, content-lite nature of this week’s late summer fare, I offer a handful of beach pics and the reminder that poo still dominates the imagination of the eldest child.

The beloved took the picture above, studiously not looking through the camera viewfinder. I had to stay back and work that day, and begged for photographic documentation of their time at the beach. She brought back dozens of pictures and the lil’ monkey brought me a shell, which almost took the sting off my not being able to be there.

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How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways.

‘Cause Baba does have a thing about schmutz on the fingers. Only the true love of a bairn would get me this be-schmutzed. Dirt, of course, is another thing entirely and more than welcome. (My thanks to Elizabeth Barrett Browning for the loaner.)

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It’s enough to make an ichthyologist out of you

We spent a week with the beloved’s dear friend and her kids, all at this friend’s parents’ place in Carmel-By-The-Sea (yes, it’s everything you’d expect from a town with so many hyphens in its name). The kiddles spent most of the time romping around the house, the garden, or the beach (or watching those who were romp-capable do so, while gnawing on a Baba’s or a Mama’s finger). Great fun was had by all, not least of whom was the lil’ monkey, who ricocheted between replicating the every move of the bedazzling older gal (seven), or directing around the sweet and accomodating younger brother (three). In honor of the lead kid, we dubbed the week “Lucypalooza.”

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Weekend bonus shot, 08.18.07

Lawn pixies, Carmel, CA.

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Gone fishin’ sneaky-post 2

Waiting for Godot Mama.

Given the number of rehearsals she’s seen with kids singing and dancing to beat the band, it will basically be a miracle if we manage to keep her off the stage. Mama, after all, is Artistic Director of a local youth music theater company. Ergo, reasons the lil’ monkey, singing and dancing on stage is what you do once you’re, like, twelve.

Not everyone feels this way, though, most notably Noel Coward.

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Gone fishin’ sneaky-post 1

When she’s all grown up, will she remember the Music Together class, where the sweet guy leading it has accomodatingly woven in “Hello, to the Babas,” after he’s sung “Hello, to the Mamas” and “Hello, to the Daddies”? I hope so.

What if instead she remembers the didgeridoo at the Farmer’s Market?

And if she does, will she remember it fondly, or with a shudder? Only time will tell.

[Didgeridoo sound clips aplenty for the didgeri-hardy here.]

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Gone fishin’

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If we were French, or had more samolians for the vacation budget, we’d be gone for a month. But we are grateful for the upcoming week away, during which time I hope to work as little as our Commander-in-Chief. Internet access and/or familial tolerance for my noodling away in front of the computer might be spotty (though I may sneaky-post the occasional archival picture). Meanwhile may the week treat you kindly.

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Weekend bonus shot, 08.11.07


Sleeping baby (2), Berkeley, CA.

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