Friday bullets, Feb. 3, 17

I am tempted to write this in Morse code, but I'll save us all a lot of work and restrain myself. (As I type this, everyone is busily decoding today's message about what the day holds. I kind of like this morning secret message-thing.) Anyway, all the non-spy related news that might be vaguely interesting follows.

  • I need a brain hat. How perfect is that? It's perfect in sooo many ways. I think I will knit mine with a white base (for the all-important white matter) with greyish pink I-cords for the the surrounding grey matter. It might be done in time for the march in March.... 2018. Plus, I would just totally wear this all the time. Don't you just love brains? And knitting? And knitted brains?
  • To clarify from an earlier post this week as to who the human tornado is. It is actually the 10yo boy, and not R. I would be thrilled if R. started leaving detritus in her wake. It would mean that she was voluntarily picking up toys and things to play with as opposed to sitting endlessly and doing nothing until I notice and find a toy she likes and insist she play with it. K., on the other hand, is very much like a cross between the Peanuts character Pig Pen and a Family Circus cartoon where you follow the dotted line of the child as they wander about. The difference is that instead of dirt, the trail of the child in question is the debris left behind as he moves from activity to activity. No tracking skills are needed to follow the trail and find the child.
  • A. adores packing and has swung by a few times this week as she has time and packed up stuff for me. It is incredibly helpful. She finds it relaxing. I do not. I'm happy to have her help and have much more relaxing in store for her.
  • I've discovered the author Dick Francis. He's been writing mysteries for ages and they are almost always vaguely related to horses, so you would think I would have discovered him earlier. Anyway, I am finding his books to be just the right amount of brain candy for this particular season. They are interesting and remarkably unformulaic, but still just enough formulaic to be soothing to an overly agitated brain.
  • I am often quite happy to be an autodidact and to not have a string of letters after my name. Sometimes, though, I do wish I had the appropriate letters and credentials to throw about. This is usually when I have written a long opinion somewhere, on a subject I have quite a bit of experience with, and am completely discounted because I am not an "expert". I don't mind people disagreeing with me. I don't mind healthy discussion. I do mind (very much) being completely dismissed out of hand. Applications are now open to any institution of higher learning who would like to bestow any and all honorary degrees upon me. 
  • Midnight had his annual vet check-up this week. He is healthy and fine and the vet was thrilled to see a slender cat. See Midnight? It's a good thing that we don't let you eat your weight in butter. Nefertiti has her appointment in two weeks. She is slimmer than she was when we brought her home, but slender is still not an adjective which anyone would us to describe her. L. has decided that Nefertiti is her own personal stuffed animal, because she is so soft and squishy. L. doesn't seem to mind the unhappy noises her new stuffed animal makes when hugged. I spend a lot of time rescuing the cat from L.'s clutches. Thankfully, while Nefertiti makes a lot of noise, she is essentially a very good natured cat and puts up with the love.
  • H. continues to process how love works. It can be hard to be a 14 yo girl even in the best of times, but it can be even more baffling when your functioning age is younger than that. Hormones are not always friendly things. We have spent the week assuring H. that we love her not matter what, even if we do not particularly care for how she is acting at the moment. So to her litany of perpetual questions... Do Mommy and Daddy still love you when you cry? Do Mommy and Daddy still love you when you're sad? Do Mommy and Daddy still love you when you're angry?... she has added a new question. Do Mommy and Daddy still love you when they're angry? I significant mental leap in my book. And yes, H., we still love you when we're angry.
  • Would we still be having these conversations after nearly five years if H. had been able to join our family earlier? Probably not. The years of neglect and the years of missing out on unconditional love took their toll. None of us can do anything about those lost years, but wait to see how God will redeem them. There is another little one, though, who does not have to wait and have quite so many lost years redeemed. We CAN do something about this little one. Please, take a look at little Sapphire. Let's not wait until it is nearly too late to find her a family. Let's allow her to know the unconditional love of a family now. Let's not waste her childhood. 


Lucy said…
When we moved last year, we had various gentle musing about the potential fate of the moving van that held all our stuff, how perhaps it might get stolen, or a fire might strike it (trailer only of course, with the tractor and nice driver safely out of the way), or perhaps in a moment of thoughtfulness - I mean thoughtlessness, HAD we given the correct destination address, and not, say that of the local goodwill?

thecurryseven said…

That's hilarious.

Dick Francis! I've read all his books. I like the jockey with the prosthetic arm.

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