Dang she's a sweetie. Okay, I'll go clean up now. Unbelievably, Lazarus is still asleep. -- Oh, scratch that: "Doo-doo dah doh, Aah gah go oh..." Sounds like he's in a good mood.
Saturday, March 20, 2004
What a beautiful first day of spring. I haven't been outside yet, but the warm breezes through the open windows and doors are almost intoxicating. And it's unexpectedly peaceful here at the moment -- Lazarus is almost 2.5 hours into his nap, and Maggie has been dozing lightly for over an hour, which has given me time to shower, lunch, and get on the computer. I suppose I should sleep (up for good at 4:30 a.m. yesterday, 5:00 today), or clean the place up, or get the rest of the laundry off the line, but... nah, I'm doing what I need to do right now. And I wanted to post these pictures -- Maggie is opening her eyes so much now, and they don't seem as blurry or confused as they did a week ago. I love it when she looks intently in my eyes... and then farts and lets out a deep sigh....
Dang she's a sweetie. Okay, I'll go clean up now. Unbelievably, Lazarus is still asleep. -- Oh, scratch that: "Doo-doo dah doh, Aah gah go oh..." Sounds like he's in a good mood.
Dang she's a sweetie. Okay, I'll go clean up now. Unbelievably, Lazarus is still asleep. -- Oh, scratch that: "Doo-doo dah doh, Aah gah go oh..." Sounds like he's in a good mood.
Friday, March 19, 2004
Good morning
Maggie woke me up around 4:30 this morning, and I couldn't manage to get her back to sleep before Lazarus woke up at 6:00, so I might need two cups of coffee this morning. But now that everyone is fed, we're having a peaceful morning, listening to the Weavers and Doc Watson and enjoying the warming day. Maggie is having another "don't put me down morning" in the sling...
and Lazarus is running around playing with the grown-up toys -- he looks so serious when he picks up the phone, like he's calling his stockbroker or something (he's just listening to the dial tone -- I don't think he's managed to dial a real place yet):
We're going for another walk this afternoon with Christine and Jai, and this time I might see how Maggie does in the stroller with the snuggler support Mom got for her. Jai might object to riding separately, though -- he likes being with his buddy "La-la." It's so interesting to watch them learn how to play together and try to work out rudimentary social skills.
I hope this great weather holds up. Everyone says we're supposed to be in wind-tunnel mode by now, so we'll enjoy it while we can. I've already seen some trees (cherry? peach?) starting to bloom (though they won't likely fruit, if we get the usual mid-spring hard frost to knock them out), and people report that gardens in Socorro are already budding and blooming. We have lots of new birds, too. I'm hearing songs I haven't heard all winter, and even Lazarus notices all the activity -- he points up at the trees and says "eee-eeee," and gets excited when a small flock passes overhead. God do I love spring.
and Lazarus is running around playing with the grown-up toys -- he looks so serious when he picks up the phone, like he's calling his stockbroker or something (he's just listening to the dial tone -- I don't think he's managed to dial a real place yet):
We're going for another walk this afternoon with Christine and Jai, and this time I might see how Maggie does in the stroller with the snuggler support Mom got for her. Jai might object to riding separately, though -- he likes being with his buddy "La-la." It's so interesting to watch them learn how to play together and try to work out rudimentary social skills.
I hope this great weather holds up. Everyone says we're supposed to be in wind-tunnel mode by now, so we'll enjoy it while we can. I've already seen some trees (cherry? peach?) starting to bloom (though they won't likely fruit, if we get the usual mid-spring hard frost to knock them out), and people report that gardens in Socorro are already budding and blooming. We have lots of new birds, too. I'm hearing songs I haven't heard all winter, and even Lazarus notices all the activity -- he points up at the trees and says "eee-eeee," and gets excited when a small flock passes overhead. God do I love spring.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
More pictures, at least
When naps coincide, I can either sleep or get stuff done around the house. When naps don't coincide, I play tag-team with the babies and try to stay sane. Things get kind of rough by late afternoon, but with the weather getting nicer, maybe that's the best time to go out for a stroll. Lazarus and Jai took a test run last week in the wonderful stroller my mom got for us -- now we can go all over the dirt roads and trails here, mama and babies and dogs and all. Maggie's too small for it now but will grow into it very soon (I can carry her in the sling till then)...
Maggie is growing fast -- she's not quite out of the newborn clothes yet but is definitely starting to fill out. And her head grew a half inch so the hats I've knit for her might fit sooner rather than later. Here she is after an afternoon snack the other day:
She's opening her eyes a lot now, so I'll try to get more pictures (gotta get some AAA batteries for the camera... it's very difficult getting out to the store now, but I guess I'll get the hang of it soon...)
Lazarus has had a great time playing at Jai's lately -- Christine said he pushes this little toy around and around the yard every time he's there, and she lent it to us so he can play with it here at home:
I love this shot just because it was one of our first warm spring-like days, and Lazarus got to play outside at Jai's all afternoon:
Lazarus rubs his near-naptime eyes, and Maggie stirs, so I guess it's another tag-team day.... Better go take care of those babes.
Maggie is growing fast -- she's not quite out of the newborn clothes yet but is definitely starting to fill out. And her head grew a half inch so the hats I've knit for her might fit sooner rather than later. Here she is after an afternoon snack the other day:
She's opening her eyes a lot now, so I'll try to get more pictures (gotta get some AAA batteries for the camera... it's very difficult getting out to the store now, but I guess I'll get the hang of it soon...)
Lazarus has had a great time playing at Jai's lately -- Christine said he pushes this little toy around and around the yard every time he's there, and she lent it to us so he can play with it here at home:
I love this shot just because it was one of our first warm spring-like days, and Lazarus got to play outside at Jai's all afternoon:
Lazarus rubs his near-naptime eyes, and Maggie stirs, so I guess it's another tag-team day.... Better go take care of those babes.
Monday, March 08, 2004
A Sunday kind of love
We've had the best Sundays since we moved in January. We putter around, Antonio does some laundry, and eventually we get in the car or Bronco and go somewhere scenic. A few weeks ago Antonio drove us through Bear Trap Canyon, a surprising oasis in the mountains just south of us, and since we were in the Bronco, which doesn't offer much style or comfort but has rock-solid 4-wheel-drive, the mud and snow were no problem. We scoped out some camping sites along the way, Lazarus oooohhed at all the big trees, and Lucy the dog tried to leap out every time she saw cattle or, deep into the canyon, the two elk who just watched us go by.
Yesterday we managed to get ourselves and two babes ready, get in the car, and drive to Pie Town for a late lunch and, yes, pie. It was my first time out of the house since I'd gotten home Wednesday night, and it was also the first truly warm, spring-like day in a few weeks. As we drove west across the Plains of St. Augustine and past the Very Large Array, the snow left on the higher edges of the plains looked almost like whitecaps on a distant ocean. Heading into and past Datil, we were back in hilly territory, with strange rock formations shaped less by the rare water than by the raw wind that's so bountiful here. At Pie Town, we ate at the Daily Pie Cafe -- which, aside from a gallery/land sales office and perhaps one or two other businesses, is the only act in town. Lazarus looked around and exclaimed at all the wonders he saw -- the old hats hanging above a window, the tuba suspended in front of another window, the big pile of wood next to the wood stove -- and I felt the same, just to be in another place for a while. Maggie just stared, then went to sleep. We finished (the coconut cream pie was divine), drove home, and I nursed Maggie while Antonio made a great roast and Lazarus tried very hard to stay underfoot.
Our Sundays make the week wonderful, Antonio said last night.
Here are the road-trippin' babes, with Lazarus giving the "ready to go" signal:
and here's a closeup of Maggie, dressed for her first outing in a sleeper and sweater that Christine lent us (I love dressing my baby in heirloom knits!):
Both babes are actually asleep. I should be, too. Tired, stubborn me.
Yesterday we managed to get ourselves and two babes ready, get in the car, and drive to Pie Town for a late lunch and, yes, pie. It was my first time out of the house since I'd gotten home Wednesday night, and it was also the first truly warm, spring-like day in a few weeks. As we drove west across the Plains of St. Augustine and past the Very Large Array, the snow left on the higher edges of the plains looked almost like whitecaps on a distant ocean. Heading into and past Datil, we were back in hilly territory, with strange rock formations shaped less by the rare water than by the raw wind that's so bountiful here. At Pie Town, we ate at the Daily Pie Cafe -- which, aside from a gallery/land sales office and perhaps one or two other businesses, is the only act in town. Lazarus looked around and exclaimed at all the wonders he saw -- the old hats hanging above a window, the tuba suspended in front of another window, the big pile of wood next to the wood stove -- and I felt the same, just to be in another place for a while. Maggie just stared, then went to sleep. We finished (the coconut cream pie was divine), drove home, and I nursed Maggie while Antonio made a great roast and Lazarus tried very hard to stay underfoot.
Our Sundays make the week wonderful, Antonio said last night.
Here are the road-trippin' babes, with Lazarus giving the "ready to go" signal:
and here's a closeup of Maggie, dressed for her first outing in a sleeper and sweater that Christine lent us (I love dressing my baby in heirloom knits!):
Both babes are actually asleep. I should be, too. Tired, stubborn me.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
With hope, good morning
Around 11:45 p.m. last Sunday night, as my husband drove fast and anxious down Highway 60 and I labored, we listened to the following on KUNM's "Spoken Word Hour" program. I'd read and heard this poem before, but it struck me as incredibly fortuitous that it would air just before the birth of my daughter. The words and the cadence of Maya Angelou's strong reading gave me such strength in the 12 hours of labor that followed, and that next morning, the final lines echoed in my ears as I held my beautiful Magdalene for the first time.
On the Pulse of Morning
Maya Angelou
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow
I will give you no hiding place down here.
You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance
Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
But do not hide your face.
Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
It says, come rest here by my side.
Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,
Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the Rock were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The River sings and sings on.
There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.
They hear the first and last of every Tree
Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.
Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.
Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.
On the Pulse of Morning
Maya Angelou
A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
Marked the mastodon.
The dinosaur, who left dry tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.
But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow
I will give you no hiding place down here.
You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness,
Have lain too long
Face down in ignorance
Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.
The Rock cries out to us today, you stand on me,
But do not hide your face.
Across the wall of the world,
A River sings a beautiful song,
It says, come rest here by my side.
Each of you a bordered country,
Delicate and strangely made proud,
Yet thrusting perpetually undersiege
Your armed struggles for profit
Have left collars of waste upon
My shore, currents of debris upon my breast.
Yet, today I call you to my riverside,
If you will study war no more. Come,
Clad in peace and I will sing the songs
The Creator gave to me when I and the
Tree and the Rock were one.
Before cynicism was a bloody sear across your
Brow and when you yet knew you still
Knew nothing.
The River sings and sings on.
There is a true yearning to respond to
The singing River and the wise Rock.
So say the Asian, the Hispanic, the Jew
The African, the Native American, the Sioux,
The Catholic, the Muslim, the French, the Greek
The Irish, the Rabbi, the Priest, the Sheikh,
The Gay, the Straight, the Preacher,
The privileged, the homeless, the Teacher.
They all hear
The speaking of the Tree.
They hear the first and last of every Tree
Speak to humankind today. Come to me, here beside the River.
Plant yourself beside me, here beside the River.
Each of you, descendant of some passed
On traveller, has been paid for.
You, who gave me my first name, you
Pawnee, Apache, Seneca, you
Cherokee Nation, who rested with me, then
Forced on bloody feet, left me to the employment of
Other seekers--desperate for gain,
Starving for gold.
You, the Turk, the Arab, the Swede, the German, the Eskimo, the Scot,
You the Ashanti, the Yoruba, the Kru, bought
Sold, stolen, arriving on a nightmare
Praying for a dream.
Here, root yourselves beside me.
I am that Tree planted by the River,
Which will not be moved
I, the Rock, I the River, I the Tree
I am yours--your Passages have been paid
Lift up your faces, you have a piercing need
For this bright morning dawning for you.
History, despite its wrenching pain,
Cannot be unlived, but if faced
With courage, need not be lived again.
Lift up your eyes upon
This day breaking for you.
Give birth again
To the dream.
Women, children, men,
Take it into the palms of your hands.
Mold it into the shape of your most
Private need. Sculpt it into
The image of your most public self.
Lift up your hearts
Each new hour holds new chances
For new beginnings.
Do not be wedded forever
To fear, yoked eternally
To brutishness.
The horizon leans forward,
Offering you space to place new steps of change.
Here, on the pulse of this fine day
You may have the courage
To look up and out and upon me, the
Rock, the River, the Tree, your country.
No less to Midas than the mendicant.
No less to you now than the mastodon then.
Here on the pulse of this new day
You may have the grace to look up and out
And into your sister's eyes, and into
Your brother's face, your country
And say simply
Very simply
With hope
Good morning.
Friday, March 05, 2004
Welcome baby!
Magdalene Ruth made her dramatic entry into the world on Monday, March 1, at 11:34 a.m. -- "natural" birth, no drugs, and a fast, slippery landing on mama's belly!
We stayed at the hospital till Wednesday, and right after we came home we got the brunt of a heavy late winter storm that knocked out our electricity for most of yesterday. Sorry for not updating sooner! More details later, but here are some pictures:
Magdalene on Tuesday, just one day old:
and on Wednesday, before we came home:
We stayed at the hospital till Wednesday, and right after we came home we got the brunt of a heavy late winter storm that knocked out our electricity for most of yesterday. Sorry for not updating sooner! More details later, but here are some pictures:
Magdalene on Tuesday, just one day old:
and on Wednesday, before we came home:
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
