Something Else I Was Googling

...the full lyrics to Loch Lomond. Enjoy.

(Miss Boo likes to fall asleep to this song and one verse just ain't enough.)

Cheers,

Breanna

Pictures, Pictures

I promised, and I deliver, although a day late.
He's really a smiley kid. I keep trying to take a picture of him smiling, and he gets all mesmerized with the camera and stops smiling. So you'll have to take my word for it.

Here are bare Brother toes, since it was pretty hot when we took the picture.

Miss Boo has been fond of "ize"--which is Boovian for, of course, "icewater".

See? Hot for May, at least 'round these parts.

So Brother has been hanging out in just a t-shirt and diaper, chillin'.

We're still doing good as far as the foot thing goes. I was sort of moping around, feeling like I couldn't do anything, until I realized that there must be lots of mothers out there in wheelchairs, and they get things done. Of course, they probably also have handicapped-accessible houses, but hey-- I can hop and wheel around and get some things accompished. I discovered yesterday it's possible to sweep the kitchen floor in a wheelchair if you're very creative and think it through thoroughly.

The church folks have been wonderful, popping around with meals unexpectedly and offering to babysit and do laundry if we need it. I admit that I'm going to have to be more hard-up before I let the church ladies see my holey socks and spit-up stains, but we may come to that yet. I suspect the Lord is teaching me something about pride. Anyway the babysitting thing may be the start of a long-term deal, should I access the 14-year-old who's been offered up to me and should she turn out to be steady. I could see myself paying her to help out afternoons in August, when I've got to deal with (hopefully) a bumper crop of tomatoes, or when I've got a backlog of sewing to do. (She is homeschooled and done with her schoolwork around 1pm, so I'm not flouting the child labor laws. Though I do love a good excuse to use the word "flout" in a sentence.)

Well, that is about all the news I have for now, except that I did find an article on how to keep potatoes overwinter in my climate. If you want it, comment, and I'll post, but I suspect only Mom will want it and I'm going to show it to her anyway. :)

Cheers,

Breanna

The Long Twilight

"The hand on the heart for the national anthem... and you and the Romans are the only ones to ever do that, so be very careful."

--Eddie Izzard, Dressed to Kill

A theological/philosophical/social post, so skip if you are just looking for the cute babies. :) Haven't had a second for a camera today.

This is a detail from a bigger picture called "Triumph of Death," painted during the most recent Dark Ages-- the ones that included the Black Death, among other niceties. I include it to show that even the people who lived during the Dark Ages thought that they were, well, Dark Ages.

The Dark Ages, referred to a bit more euphemistically as the Middle Ages, have been on my mind lately both because I've been reading a biography of Eleanor of Aquataine and because I've been viewing our recent progress here in the West with a troubling image of the last two centuries of Rome twiddling in the back of my mind. (How can something twiddle and be troubling at the same time? Not sure, but this does.)

Rome wasn't built in a day, and it didn't fall in a day either; it sort of slowly declined, whatever Gibbons wants to say. In Gibbons's famous opinion, Rome declined because the namby-pamby Christians took over and made it stop being such an effective military dictatorship. This may be true, in which case it was not the Goths but actually the namby-pamby Christians who took down the greatest military power the world had known since Alexander. In any case, Roman society was rotting, because Roman society was based on values that do not keep well--namely, civic pride ("Rome is awesome!"), monetary gain ("you make a little, I'll make a little, everybody wins"), and a sharp demarcation between the real people ("citizens") and the conveniently non-people ("slaves"). It had its other downsides too, of course, like the whole feeding religious dissenters to lions as public entertainment thing, but for the sake of discussion, let's just take the three attitudes I've listed.

Now I'm going to hit a sacred cow with a hammer and point out that Americans love to bash themselves. In a perverse sort of way, this is our version of civic pride ("America is horrible"). It's been an American tradition since at least the War Between the States to point out our deficiencies. Back then we usually compared ourselves to Europe, and now we generally compare ourselves to places like India or Tibet, but we still like to compare and come up short. (Christians are not immune to this, but by the grace of God we might compare ourselves to Scripture instead of other countries.)

So there's one Roman attitude we have, and it's a dangerous one; it makes people stay self-focused while feeling very self-righteous at the same time.

We are, of course, seeing the outcomes of our attitude toward monetary gain at the moment. "You make a little, I make a little, everybody wins" only works when everybody is also honest. The Bible has plenty to say about debt, swindlers, and rulers who make life rough on the poor, so 'nough said--go look it up in Proverbs yourself.

"Well," you are thinking, "at least we don't have slaves any more, so the third thing isn't happening." I would argue, however, that we have all sorts of categories for "real people" and "convenient non-people". The most obvious and heinous convenient non-people are, as I've written before, the unborn. However, there are other categories of people who fit the bill too.

We don't really believe that old people have anything to say about today's society; still less that a white, blue-collar guy who watches football and eats red meat might have anything to contribute to the discussion. We already know what he thinks, right? And anyway he probably didn't even vote for PBO. We don't think stay-at-home moms, especially if they chose to stay home, have much to contribute, being as how they're not self-actualized and all. And don't lets even get started on those fundamentalist Christians-- they can be counted on to be wrong.

So what's my argument, then? Do I expect the darkness to descend here within the next five years? Since only the Wicked Witch of the West has a crystal ball that actually works, I don't know. It's possible that America, the modern Rome, could fall quicker than her counterpart. After all, Rome lasted 800 years and spent about 200 years falling. We've had about 200 years, so proportionally our fall should take 50 years.

But I think we are in what you might call the long twilight. While this makes me sad for a country that has been at times truly great and that has always striven to do the right and noble thing (even if it failed), that's not really the biggest concern for Christians. For us, the biggest concern is whether we will let God light the coming Dark Ages the same way He lit the last ones-- with people copying and studying and reciting Scripture in the darkness like the beacons of Minas Tirith.

My simple suggestion, in case our fall is accelerated and the barbarians come a-knockin'? Memorize your Scripture now. You should be doing it anyway.

Miss Boo has just wakened early from her nap, so even tough there is more to this topic, I must go. I'll write more later about the actual Dark Ages.

Cheers,

Breanna

You Might As Well Learn New Things

If you have to be in a chair a lot, that is. I have been learning...in articles like this.

In case you are someday surviving on rose hips to avoid scurvy, you're welcome.

Now if I can just find someone who can tell me how to keep potatoes overwinter when your winters are pretty dang wintery, I'll be set.

Cheers,

Breanna

Wheeling Solo

I almost entitled today's post "flying solo" but then realized that while flying would be really convenient right about now, I can't fly, I can only wheel around in my chair. So anyway, today is the first day that the Husband had to be back at work and Miss Boo, Brother and I are by ourselves. It's going surprisingly well.

I've moved everything we might need out to the living room and barricaded off the areas of the house where Miss Boo can get into more than the usual level of mischief; I've set up a little temporary nap-bed on the couch for Miss Boo (which she is enjoying at the moment); and Brother's bassinet continues to reside beside my chair(s). I've got one necessary phone-call out of the way, and am dressed although I haven't figured out yet how I'm going to brush my teeth and am thinking it will have to wait until the Husband shows up for his lunch hour. So all in all, I think we're doing pretty well.

There is a pair of robins who are trying to build a nest in the fir tree outside my front window. The lady robin tends to choose sticks and things that are a nice, middling size. The husband robin tends to haul up things that are too big for him to carry, thus he ends up either trying to fit them in the nest and then finding they don't fit, or he drops them before he gets them all the way up to the nest. It's quite entertaining to watch and just confirms that one way men and women are different is that women are born nest-builders. If it was all husband robins out there everything in a house would be one color and there would be no such thing as curtains. Or doilies.

Well, enough pictureless post for now. I'll try to get some pictures tomorrow and get them posted. Brother changes by the day now.

Cheers,

Breanna

P.S. Thanks for all the prayers. I know that's why things are going as well as they are and why I'm nearly pain-free. Love you all!

It's a Good Thing I'm Sitting Down A Lot

Beacuse Brother is turning into a moose through much eating. Seriously, I think the kid puts on chins and inches in the night. Not to mention the record-setting pooping. But that's good, right? :)

Magical mystery fingers, chins and...

..inches.

(A picture from earlier this week for comparison purposes. See what I mean?)

On the foot front (which makes me sound like a war theatre) the swelling is mostly down but the bruising is now awesomely impressive; I can look very noble by sticking my foot out and saying modestly (and honestly) "well, it doesn't hurt that much..." Note that this would be less noble-seeming if everybody didn't believe I was lying. Simpering in the wheelchair adds to the whole pathetic-Colin-in-The Secret Garden vibe I'm trying to achieve. (He was the one in the wheelchair who threw fits, remember? Not Dickon the cool Yorkshire peasant kid who was probably autistic now that you think about it.)

The Husband is impressing me hourly. Not only did this beautiful man let me SLEEP IN this morning (do you realize how rarely a mom of two littles sleeps in?) but he's been fetching and carrying for me all day and watching the very mobile Miss Boo, and cooking for all of us. What a guy.

Does this mean that if you were all able to beam here from your respective homes that I wouldn't take the help? Noooo.... but it does mean that when God gives you a broken fifth metatarsal, He apparently gives you the grace to deal with it as well. I knew He would; it's just hard to feel graceful sometimes when the lady is telling you how to turn your broken foot for the x-ray machine.

(Speaking of, you know that part in Logan's Run where they're going to give Logan a new face in the Facetron 3000 or whatever it's called, and they the lasers go all crazy and kill the Facetron operator? Well, the table that moves you around for the x-ray machine at the urgent care clinic sounds just like the Facetron 3000 did in that movie, and I kept expecting lasers. Amazing what your mind will leap to if you've seen too many movies and are not allowed to have any of the good painkillers.)

Anyway, happy Saturday!

Cheers,

Breanna

Real Pictures at Last!

Firstly, the foot: This is my Darth Mom foot. (Turn to the dark side.)

This is my Regular Mom foot. (There are starving children in Sri Lanka that would be happy to have that.)

Here's my crutches-- they are easier than the wheelchair for a surprising number of things, including maneouvering in the bathroom.

And finally, a sleeping baby picture to make up for all the foot news. :) He sleeps in his bassinet right next to my recliner and my wheelchair, making it easy to deposit him when he's sleeping/when Miss Boo is about to ride the dog.

I'm fairly pain-free today unless I forget and do something stupid, when my fifth metatarsal reminds me I need to keep the foot at 90 degrees and not put any weight on it. :D The foot doc also said yesterday that I don't need to sleep with the walking boot on, so last night was heavenly in that I could let my leg air out all night. It's amazing what becomes a pleasure.

Well, well, I hope you have a good day, and we will have the best day we can.

Cheers,

Breanna