Two healthy baby monkeys! And the proud, um, father?
We should be able to meet the new little guy (or girl) sometime in August.Just so you know . . .
Eight
These last eight years together have been as good (or better!) than:
eight gold medals
eight primary emotion dimensions
Eight Fish and Squid
eight simultaneous babies

eight limbs
Cool
It doesn't matter if people think you're nerdy.
And I need to just be happy when I make good choices and learn good things, and try harder when I don't, and not worry about whether or not anyone else is thinking those are good efforts or not. Because for ME (and us---our family), I'm so happy---I mean, last night we told the boys a story about The Pea That Didn't Want to Be Eaten (it was a real nail-biter) and then they went to bed and Sam and I put together a puzzle called "Rainbow Forest" while we listened to opera arias and made fun of the German ones [German! Can you believe it's a real language?] and ate peanut butter ice cream. And it didn't involve anything that could remotely be considered "cool" (I don't think, but as you know I'm not really up on these things), but it was lovely. And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
A trend that I've noticed lately, and which bothers me, perhaps unduly:

- The writers actually think they are being clever, and that people will be impressed.
- The writers don't think it's clever, but they think it's what the people want/expect. "Punchy prose! None of this lifeless, dry, "informational" writing for us!"
- The writers are frustrated English majors who take some kind of odd delight in pulling up all the cliched phrases from their brains and matching them with prose that relates on the surface only. Sort of a random word-association exercise.
- The writers do not notice that they are doing this. They have become immune to their own bad writing by reading too much of it.
Now don't get me wrong, I enjoy true wordplay as much as the next person (I know I've sent you here before, for example, and I love it), but in my opinion, doing it poorly (or in the wrong venue) is worse than not doing it at all. I hate reading a cutesy, poorly-thought-out headline on something that's supposed to be "news." Or honestly, on anything.
[/end rant]
Becoming a handyperson

This happens to me from time to time. Usually with something (very simple) around the house---like, there will be some table or something from IKEA that needs to be put together, and I think "I better wait for Sam to do this." But then I'll get tired of waiting, so I'll just buckle down and read the instructions and do it, and it turns out I can do it. And I'm always so amazed at myself. (I don't know why---I suppose they do, theoretically, make their instructions so anyone, literate or not, can follow them. But I still feel like I'm impressive for figuring them out.) Or it also happens when Sam and I do a project together that we've never done before.
It was that way last summer when we had to lay sod. Or a couple summers before that when we were installing outdoor lights or building garden beds or staining the deck. Every time, the task seemed so intimidating before we started it, but once we did it, we felt so proud of ourselves. And all those jobs ended up being fun, oddly enough.
(And it occurs to me: Is this how one becomes an adult? An all-knowing, capable-of-anything adult, like my parents always seemed to be? Just little by little, one new skill at a time?)
So, lately the project has been dripline for the garden beds. We hired a company to bring in topsoil for us and put in the sprinklers/valves, but then we raked out the dirt and laid the sod and built up some raised beds last summer, and the last few weeks we've been laying out the dripline and planting the plants. I think our landscaping guys were supposed to do the dripline as well as the sprinklers, but it just didn't seem worth fighting to get them to come back and do it, plus they did sort of a half-hearted job on everything else, so we figured we might as well just do it (better) ourselves.
We've been running back and forth to Home Depot for 1/4-inch connectors and pressure-regulating valves and tubing couplers and so forth, and it's amazing how fast something that seems totally foreign to you can suddenly become comprehensible, and even familiar. I didn't even have to ask for help on the last trip I made, alone, to the hardware store (very rare occurrence). So, if anyone else is installing dripline this summer, I am now available for consultation. :)
Next project: finish the basement. Hmm. That one really may be beyond our capabilities. But, I bet if we could find someone to show us a few things, we could do a lot of it ourselves. I'd be willing to give it a shot, anyway.
Scones
You can also make a big batch of the dough the night before (fry up a few for your dinner---top them with chili, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, and sour cream) and then save the other half of the dough, wrapped in plastic wrap, in the fridge to make for breakfast.
3 c. flour
Mix all the ingredients and knead the dough until smooth. Let rest 5 minutes. Pat with hands to make flat circles, then roll out into bigger circles. Poke a hole in the center (so it won't bubble up as much) and fry in oil on both sides until golden brown. Serve hot, with butter and cinnamon sugar.
They called me the hyacinth girl
We did some planting in our backyard this weekend (rose bushes, lilacs, a tiny tree, etc.) and some of the bulbs I planted last Fall are also in bloom now. It looks so pretty---unfinished, but pretty. :) I love the hyacinths, both the way they look and the way they smell---heavenly! And hyacinths always make me think of the lines from T.S. Eliot's* The Waste Land (and since we always want to quote "April is the cruelest month" from that, it seems only fair to remember some other lines as well):
'You gave me hyacinths first a year ago;
They called me the hyacinth girl.'
—Yet when we came back, late, from the Hyacinth garden,**
Your arms full, and your hair wet, I could not
Speak, and my eyes failed, I was neither
Living nor dead, and I knew nothing,
Looking into the heart of light, the silence.
I think that's so haunting, and beautiful. (Or is it depressing?) :) Anyway, I'm just so happy to have Spring weather, nothing seems depressing. Happy April!
*I confess I've long had a soft spot for T.S. Eliot. I suppose some find his work bleak, or think he is overrated, but I have lots of his poetry memorized, and it's some of my favorite. In fact, for my honors thesis in college, I composed three art songs using Eliot's poetry. I used the above lines for one of the songs. My cousin's wife Cheri (she's an amazing soprano--she sang with the Boston Pops at Tanglewood and is in the Tabernacle Choir now) recorded the songs with me. You may hear "Hyacinths" here, if you are so inclined: hyacinths.mp3
**I wish I had one of these. Doesn't it sound old-fashioned and romantic? I don't think my eight hyacinths would quite constitute a "hyacinth garden." But I would like to plant more.
Glory Days
Well-begun is half-done

"Your sins are forgiven you, because you have obeyed my voice in coming up hither this morning to receive counsel . . . Therefore, let your soul be at rest concerning your spiritual standing, and resist no more my voice. And arise up and be more careful henceforth in observing your vows. . . and you shall be blessed with exceedingly great blessings" (Doctrine and Covenants 108:1-3).
As far as I understand this, the man addressed here (Lyman Sherman is his name) was told that he was forgiven of his sins (which he had been worrying about), simply for doing one thing right---for taking one step, that morning, in the right direction---not for doing any huge task or for completing some long spiritual journey---but for this: going to ask God for help.
*From the Disney movie. I haven't read the book Mary Poppins since I was little, so I can offer no opinion on that character. I seem to recall that she is meaner in the book than in the movie.
Easter cookies/Fruit pizza
1 c. shortening
1 1/2 c. sugar
2 eggs
2 1/4 c. flour
½ t. cream of tartar
½ t. soda
1/4 t salt
1 t. vanilla
8 oz. cream cheese, softened
½ c. sugar
½ t. vanilla
milk, to make it the right consistency
The List

It seems you see lists all over the place now (15 Things in my refrigerator! 100 things to do before I die! 10 Things I never told anyone! etc) and I wonder, what do we see in them? Is it lazy to write that way? Have we lost the art of the essay; the well-crafted argument; the thesis that unfolds bit by bit until the ending reveals itself as inevitable?
And what about lists of "things I want to do someday": are they just trendy ways of bragging about how "well-rounded" you are/will be because you've been cliff-diving, while leaving out the less tangible, but much more important, things that make you into a worthwhile person? (does anyone have "Hold my tongue and smile when I feel like making a sarcastic remark" on their "life list"?)
I thought this was a good, if slightly cynical, point about the "life list":
Over the past few days I've learned about Life Lists, the effort of baby boomers and others to inject meaning into their lives by writing down a list of things they want to accomplish before they die. Popular items include run a marathon, sky dive, and be kissed in the rain. So far I haven't seen anyone list the ambition of the Jean-Pierre Melville character in Godard's "Breathless" -- to become immortal
and then to die.
There's nothing new, of course, about writing down life objectives. And thanks to the current fad, we're learning plenty about certain folks who came up with Life Lists as youngsters and subsequently were able to check most of the boxes. To me this quest sounds dangerously like letting a teenager tell you what to do.
With that said, perhaps you'll indulge me as I present the following?:
13 Things I would like to do before bed this evening:
Eat another cookie
Brush my teeth
Watch this again
Be kissed in the rain (just kidding . . . but kissed in the house would be nice)
Smell my sleeping, bathy boys
Get Sam to fluff my pillow (he's the best fluffer)
Put away the clean dishes
Lock the front door
Avoid stepping on any toys on the way upstairs
Admire the vacuum lines in the living room carpet
Make Sam laugh
Quote a line from "The Scarlet Pimpernel"
Remember that thing I was supposed to do tomorrow
Un-cooped
Good ideas
Every so often one of us (usually Sam) comes up with some great idea. (Coincidentally, most of the ideas are born between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 a.m.)
One is a plexiglass hamster ball for our children (padded outside and in). I'm sure you can imagine the usefulness of such an item.
Another good idea Sam came up with is, well first let me explain: we have a measuring spoon that is made of plastic and it pops out to be 1 T. on one side and 1/2 T. on the other side, like this:
Which is itself a pretty cool idea, but then Sam's idea is to make a pregnancy/nursing bra like that, so you wouldn't have to buy new ones as you, ahem, fluctuate in size; so you just pop! C-cup, pop! B-cup. Brilliant, right?
We have other good ideas too. Lots of them. How about our idea for a "straight-talking Jesus" version of the Bible? I won't demonstrate what I mean so you won't think I'm being sacreligious, but trust me, the world needs our genius in this area as in so many others. It's a darn shame neither of us has access to a marketing company right now, but just you wait, someday all these ideas will come to their deserved fruition.
So? What about you? Any good ideas?