January 25, 2009
I think I am getting the hang of Blogspot, although I have not completed all the link repairs yet. Along with getting a new web space, I used the unexpected weather closings to buy a new computer (which arrived yesterday) and to hire a new internet service provider with the oh-so-much-more-convenient cable modem option. Here is an example of my newly developing skills: Erin doing her best imitation of Alfalfa from Our Gang. In fact, (with apologies to those of you reading on dial up) I have sprinkled a few more photos in some of my earlier posts this month.
January has blipped by quicker than I could adequately capture it on the web. Erin's first soccer tournament is coming up on the 3rd of February, so practices started week before last. Choir and bells have geared back up, and horse back riding will resume as soon as the ground firms up, probably next week. Erin was glad to put it off another week, since it freed up time on Tuesday afternoon to whoop it up at Jackson's 10th birthday party! Today was the fourth grade field trip to Huntsville and the Sam Houston State Park and Museum. All I have heard about it was that she made cornbread. It tasted good. And no, she didn't save any for me.
For the last year or more, Erin has given up the "children's" tapes and CDs that had been the staple in our car life for years: Raffi, Sharon, Lois and Bram, and the other musicians who sing those impossible-to-get-out-of-your-head-but-too-silly-to-sing-in-public songs. Instead we listen to grown-up music--some folk, some rock, some Beatles--but mainly just stuff from the mom library. Last weekend Erin had the idea that we needed to listen through some of her old stuff to see whether it would suit cousin Emma's tastes so we could pass them along.
So we were driving around town, singing "Ten in the Bed and the Little One Said, Roll Over" and "Everybody's Happy, Well I Should Say" happy as clams. I eyed Erin in my rear view mirror and delighted in watching her bright eyes and shining smile as she sang along, surprising herself that she remembered all the lyrics so easily. After a while the traffic picked up and our pace slowed. And finally, after stopping for a train, crawling behind an overloaded semi for a mile or more, and finding myself stopping for yet another traffic signal, I said to the air, "We're catching all the lights this afternoon."
Erin paused mid verse, considered for a moment, then said, "That's an idiom and an inaccuracy."
To which I glugged "Huh?"
Erin went on: "You didn't actually 'catch' a light. It just turned red, so you had to stop. That makes it an idiom. It's an inaccuracy because we didn't stop at every light."
To which a glugged "Huh?"
What I meant was "Why are we having this conversation? Shouldn't I be the one teaching you the definition of idiom? Where did all this come from?" But before I could actually get the words to form, she was back on task, belting out "Jack Was Every Inch a Sailor, Five and Twenty Years a Whaler."
Healthwise, Erin is mostly on track. Her bowels flare up every once in a while, but it has ceased serving as a common topic of conversation in the household. Last weekend her cough had worsened enough that I actually stopped by the pediatrician's office after I picked her up from the sleepover to have the on-call doc take a listen. He didn't hear anything suspicious, so I chalked it up to one more little viral thingy picked up from the germhaus.
Walter and I are driving down to Houston tomorrow. Can you believe it? Erin doesn't have an appointment. Davis isn't on the itinerary. We going to a dinner and providing a little consultation. Mostly, we are taking advantage of the romance package at the Marriott Renaissance--think champagne, strawberries, and breakfast in bed.
With a swimming party on tap for Saturday and a grandmother set to do sitting duty, I have a sneaking suspicion that no one (meaning Erin) will even notice that we're gone.