Perspective

Last Friday night we went to the annual business meeting of our electric co-op, mainly to hang out and listen to our friends play (fiddle/guitars/mandolin) but also to see if we'd win the car they were giving away as a door prize. We didn't win the car, but I did win $100! I put the bill carefully in my wallet, thinking I might deposit it in the bank (to help with bills) but leaving my options open in case I decided to let myself splurge a bit.

Wednesday morning, as I was hanging out laundry, I heard the dogs wimpering -- they never wimper; they always bark happily when they see me -- and looked over to see two very pained prickly faces. Apparently they'd tangled with a porcupine the night before and came out on the sore end of things. They also smelled of skunk -- talk about a bad night. So I called the vet and said I couldn't pull many of the quills out because they were in pretty deep. She said to bring them the dogs in to have the quills removed under anesthesia. We went, the dogs are fine now, and it cost me $97.11.

So... I still came out $2.89 ahead of where I was last week. Heh.

And now for the entertainment news. We have (nearly) live footage of more monkey-boy eating adventures:



He's so proud of himself. He managed to cram a whole handful of cat food in his mouth without dropping one piece. *Sigh.* How do you like the haircut? It's a real one (professional) -- we all went into town for haircuts on Tuesday, and I joked with Karolyn that we were like wild people coming down out of the hills for our yearly haircut. Considering I haven't had a real cut and style since last July, that's not too far off. Lazarus howled and fought the whole time, but Karolyn persevered and did a good job. She also paused while cutting my hair to let me bring Maggie up under the cape for some nursing. Now that's my kind of place.

Maggie smiled big at me this morning, and I am enchanted. Haven't managed to capture it on camera yet, but I will soon. Here she is, a few days ago, lounging around like babies do:



I'm still on dial-up, and will remain so for at least another month. And perhaps beyond that -- I'm seriously considering not renewing the Starband contract in May. Turns out the modem wasn't bad; the satellite dish got kicked out of alignment, probably during the recent winds. To get it back, I'd have to call the installer and have him come out to realign it, to the tune of $200 or so. I'd have to call him again to set the whole thing up when we move in June, for another $200. And I'd have to keep the dial-up account because I can't work with the seemingly constant service disruptions. So... I think I'll bail out when my year is up. It's too pricey and too unreliable -- definitely not ready for prime time.

We start moving a month from today. I'm getting impatient, especially since the flower and vegetable seeds I ordered arrived today... but we can hang on for a while longer.

Dial-up is faster than satellite Internet

... especially when the dang satellite modem goes bad. Again. I wish I'd just gone with the local dial-up in the first place, because it's not that bad... well, it's 28K on a good day, but I've had so many headaches with the Starband system (at $100 a month, plus $500 start-up) that that seems just dandy now. Reliable is good.

Anyhoo. Here's a recent self-feeding experiment gone awry (that's Lazarus in the picture, not me, though I've had similar adventures in my grown-up life):





Maggie will be seven weeks old on Monday, and she's getting bigger and more interested in the world every day. She also looks a lot like Lazarus did at that age -- though she's much more serious, I think. Here's my littlest sweetie-pie:





We all got out for a walk this morning, before the winds got too fierce, and now we're camping out in the house because I don't want the babes to get taken away on a gust of wind. Ah, spring in New Mexico.

The babies are fine -- Maggie is healthy and alert and almost smiling for real, and Lazarus is starting to really talk. I haven't updated lately because my digital camera batteries are dead and I can't manage to go get more (and I'm not willing to pay $7.50 for four batteries at the new local convenience store). Lame excuse, I know. Maybe I'll steal some from the remote controls... then Antonio will be compelled to go get new batteries himself. Or, I could just ask him directly to go get me some. Naahh, the sneaky underhanded approach is more fun. Heh. Besides, I need to take pictures now, while the babes are still cute. Heh, again.

Assuming I finish my editing job today, we might get outside for a walk -- I think the rain/snow/hail/sleet have moved on, finally, and we're due for a warm-up over the next few days. People here say it's been a bizarre spring so far -- all the rain and snow is unusual, apparently (though welcome), and we haven't had the wretched winds that usually start in March and go through May. I'll take this any year. Things are starting to green up, and as much as I love New Mexico, I do miss the abundant green springtime I grew up with.

One more note: I have a few final details to take care of, then we meet with the sellers of our house-to-be and sign papers and get everything ready to go for escrow. They told Antonio last night that they're leaving by June 1 -- so in two months I'll finally be in "my" house again! I'm itching to have my own space again, and of course to start gardening -- I realized yesterday that I'll only be a few weeks late with planting, since our last frost date is May 15, so I might just go ahead and put in that veggie garden! In fact... when we meet with the sellers (Kurt and Lisa) on Tuesday, I think I'll ask if I could go over there for a day in May and start getting a few garden beds ready. They're very cool people (and I'm sorry they're leaving town), so I'm sure they'll be fine with that.

Now I know what to get Lazarus for his birthday: a little wheelbarrow, spade, rake, and garden bib. I need a garden helper.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

Pictures!

Lazarus pulls his hat on now before we go out the door -- just like Papa:


Eating today -- gettin' better with the spoon:


You want ME to do your taxes???


And here's one of my favorites, from one year ago yesterday, when we traveled to a remote place in New Mexico for a break that has turned into a lifetime:

Pictures to follow, I promise...

Just found my camera and will take some pictures today.

But I had to post this -- step aside, al-Qaeda, you've met your match:

"The NEA [National Education Association, the nation's largest teacher's union] is a terrorist organization."
--Rod Paige, education secretary for G.W. Bush

Sign me up, baby.

Picture fest (with just a short rant)

I hope this trend of states resisting Bush's No Child Left Behind nonsense continues -- the only way to change something is to oppose it, actively. Give courage to others considering the same action.

As promised, the picture fest!


Mmmmm, hot dogs.....


What? You gotta problem wit' dat?


More outside playtime:


Look what grandma made for MEEEEEEEEE!!!


Whaddaya mean this one isn't for me? Who else could it be for?

I looked down in the trash can. The trash can at the bottom I could see was filled with some cardboard packing material, including the kind of nylon-type straps and maybe some bubble packing. On top of that was a page or two of standard white, low-grade packing-type paper. And on top of that is this little, loosely thrown or tossed group of pages, standard 8 1/2--by-11-size pages and I guess what struck, what got my interest, was on the top page at the top of it was a handwritten entry in a standard form with the name "Bush," comma, "George W," comma, "On Lt." That was in pen ink entry. That intrigued me. It concerned me, looking back at it, I knew initially that it bothered me that was in the trash can. It struck me pretty hard initially. The total number of pages I've estimated were between 20 and 40 pages.
-- Retired Texas Air National Guard Officer Bill Burkett, speaking to Salon.com of an incident that occurred in Spring 1997

God bless and protect the whistle-blowers.

"Eighty percent of the nation's property -- land, stocks, bonds -- is now in the hands of 10 percent of the people: the 13,000 richest families have a net worth equivalent to the assets owned by the poorest 20 million people."
--Molly Ivins and Lou Dubose, "Bushwhacked"

I can't do much these days -- feeling breathless and tired -- but at least I have some good reading material thanks to a friend's bountiful library. Gotta read, rest, stay calm... I just have to make it to Friday -- 35 weeks -- and then I won't have to get transported up to Albuquerque (now 114 miles away) for the birth. I was fixated on birthing prematurely with Lazarus, too, so I keep telling myself to relax and stop obsessing over it.

It was sunny and close to 50 degrees out yesterday... and we finally managed to get outta the house! Lazarus was, to put it bluntly, a pain in my butt all morning (he's testing boundaries a lot these days and probably has figured out that I'm not terribly mobile), but a nap, lunch, and some time outside playing in the dirt and watching the dogs wrestle cheered him up a lot. Me too.

Speaking of moving around a lot...

It's interesting to see this in graphic form -- the 31 states I've been in/passed through are in red:



create your own visited states map
or write about it on the open travel guide

States I've lived in:
Pennsylvania (was born there)
Delaware
Massachusetts
New Jersey
New Mexico (home sweet home again)
California
Colorado

Clearly I've been partial to the northeast (where I spent my childhood and part of my 20s) and the southwest (where I've lived for the past 10+ years) -- I've made most of my state "touchdowns" while criss-crossing the country from one to the other -- and haven't had occasion to visit the deep south or northern plains. Or Hawaii. *sigh* (I shouldn't sigh so heavily, since it's sunny and nearly 60 degrees here today...) Lazarus has already lived in three states and visited 11.

And now he's standing at the back door calling "boo-deeeee" (for "Lucy") because he's worried the dogs have taken off to Arizona, his would-be 12th state visited, without him:

Walkin' man

We've been seeing a lot of this lately, especially since we moved (yes, again -- but phone no. and PO Box remain the same):



Lazarus just stands up and starts walking now... he can almost make it all the way from one end of the house to the other and doesn't have five goofy sets of up or down steps to negotiate. And he loves being in a warm place again -- the sun warms this place up in no time -- where he doesn't have to wear four layers of clothes.

So does mama.

Merry Christmas!

Lazarus doesn't quite know what Christmas is yet, but he sure woke up happy. After I changed and dressed him, he stood up on the bed and gave me a big hug. Definitely the best present I could possibly want.

On top of the world... (and what always comes after)

About two weeks ago, Laz and I took a road trip way, way up into the Magdalena mountains (in papa's truck, of course):



No updates since then because we've been sick. Really, really sick. Lazarus caught something at my doc's office just before Thanksgiving, and not two days after he was finally over it I caught something violently unpleasant from God knows where. I went to the hospital because I knew I was so dehydrated that I was in trouble, especially since dehydration can bring on premature labor. Sure enough, they kept me there, monitoring the baby (she's fine) and getting fluids back in me and giving me stuff to keep them from exiting right away. William took care of Lazarus for a day while Antonio kept me company. The day after I came home, Antonio got sick; the next day William got sick, and Lazarus didn't seem so happy, either. So I was back on my feet trying to take care of stuff, and I got sick again, too.

I think Lazarus and I might finally be getting over it. I think. Lazarus is pretty chipper and is exploring more than ever, including, yesterday, the usually-forbidden zone of my office (off limits only because it's so messy):



One bonus: the boy is now binky-free, since I decided to try to get rid of any and all harbors of infectious disease. (He also lost every last one of his binkies, and we got tired of scouring the house and cars desperately seeking just one to placate him to sleep.) He's still fighting it a bit at naptime and bedtime, but we're almost there.