Why we live here



So it is clear we have been pushing the season lately, ready for spring, anticipating summer. We have spent about four of the past six weekends at Hilton Head--three of those visiting with Grammy and Poppa. 20 Belted Kingfisher is a great place for visiting with family and enjoying new friends, as these shots of Sadie and Elsie over spring break show.... yet more good times for the old digs. We'll be back there for Easter this weekend! I hope Johnny, Kate, and Baby Tad rest up!

Accomplices

A Taste of Spring: Peeps have hatched!



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Planet Elsie


Sometimes it feels like we are prisoners on Planet Elsie. We find ourselves devoted to strange wild life--governed by laws of nature only Elsie understands--with her as interpreter, we are ordered to speak quietly, pet things, sing to things, wet washclothes for things, make food for things, we don't recognize as things that need our caretaking. As in these pictures here, we found ourselves unable to make and serve breakfast yesterday because of the needs of the above plastic lizard.

Time and again, still, we are subject to brutal interrogations about the origins and meanings of everything from how the car got painted to why it rains. We find ourselves repeating answers to questions that are systematically drilled at us repeatedly. We can't understand why our responses are incorrect. She can't understand how her parents are so dense. We can't figure out where this child came from.

We are beaten down in a language we thought we were masters of by a three year old with terminology and parlance aggressive but not all together accurate--a sample exchange:
Elsie: "Mommy, I dude that."
Me: "What, Elsie, I don't know what you mean. You dude that..."
David (supposedly helpfully): "Maybe she is referring to the Big Lebowski..."
Elsie (exasperated): "MOMMY, I SAID I DO-ED THAT ALREADY.... I ALREADY WASHED MY HANDS."
Me (defeated): "Oh did that...you did that? David, deal with that tone."

Ultimately, we are at war here. Elsie is attempting a coup, and we are attempting to hold our ground. Some days, we maintain control better than others. Some days, cocktail hour comes early. Some days, we are strangers in a strange land. And some days, we can't believe our good fortune at discovering this place... some days...

Happy Birthday D!

Well, David has had quite the 38th birthday--with the Wilco show and She & Him concert bookending the big day, he has had no reason to complain. Lots of calls and messages, cards and gifts, a night out with Indian food (E is a huge fan of paneer tikka masala) as well as an ice cream birthday cake made him feel well feted... and of course, the attention from all of his girls made this birthday boy feel like a king.... And then tomorrow Grammy is taking him to see How to Train a Dragon in 3D with Elsie while I cook a birthday feast.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

A rose by any other name....

Baby Ballerina

Green Eggs and Ham: Dr. Seuss' Birthday Dinner!

Kit Thompson, Big Game Hunter

Rhetorically, with prolepsis, a narrator discusses a future event as if it has already occurred. After we spent the first weekend in March at Hilton Head and made our habitual visit to the petting zoo at Lawton Stables, David and I became convinced that one day when Kit is a big game hunter we will look back at that weekend as the origin of her deer antipathy, the reason for her deep-seated love of veal. Kit was attacked by a baby deer--yep, she was knocked down by Bambi. And so one day, when Kit has her own TV show and movie, when she has travelled down under, a modern day Crocodile Dundee, when she has wrestled with grizzlies and has faced off with tigers, we will know it was because of that day.