they say bread is life....

Another well-child check-up with Miss Biscuit. We walk off the elevator and there are people with masks on and more purell than you'd find at an OCD convention. (This year's theme? Fun ways to re-purpose old clorox wipes containers for fun holiday craft projects!) I was immediately asked,"have any flu symptoms?" "um...nope." then she marked me off and let me go onto reception to check in. I appreciated the fact that they created an isolation area for the sickies. I went and hung out in the newborn area. Had a nice chat with another Mom with a baby about the same age. she admired my peanut shell sling. Parents in waiting rooms tend to talk gear. I have directed a few people toward a local-ish website so they too can find cute cloth nappies and slings. Eventually we made it to the exam room. Miss Biscuit now weighs 11Lbs and she is 23 inches long. She also has an enormous head but we aren't surprised. She is healthy, crazy long and doing what she should.
She does have pink eye. She woke up with gunk in her eye and it has only gotten more icky. The Dr. said I was doing all the right things. (putting breast milk in her eye. Seriously. The stuff is like the all-purpose magical healing liquid.) She also gave me a prescription for eye drops just to make it all better. Then we did our first set of shots. Miss Biscuit hadn't had any until now. It wasn't a party, but is it ever? She did enjoy the polio one but that is oral and tastes of sugar.
So that was that. We go back in a couple of months for another glam time. I do love the view there. It is a million dollar view of the city.

On the drive home I noticed a medical examiner van and a police car outside an apartment building -obviously they aren't there on a social visit. Makes one's eyes perk up a bit.

The rain continues, but the leaves remain beautiful, so the drive isn't a bother.

I noticed the LJ writer's block question (that a few people have answered) is about last words. Someone answered, "what, already?" This reminded me of something my Mother told me awhile back. When my Great Aunt Fern was in the hospital near the end of her life. My Mother came to visit her. My Mom was telling her about me being pregnant with Senor Onion and various bits of news and Auntie Fern said, "It goes by so fast." This is a woman who was 93, so she had seen a lot but I think she was right. Maybe it is having children that just presses upon a person, one's mortality? Maybe not. But it does feel like things go by at a lightning speed. I feel like I need at least a couple hundred years to even enjoy half of what is out there. There are places to see, people to get to know and books to read. 80-90-some years seems kind of short. I suppose it makes a stronger case for living every moment in a full fashion. I don't mean always being a jet-setter and living the high life, but taking the time to appreciate more moments -even the inane ones. I know it does make it easier for me to forgive certain people. I don't want to be old and realize I spent many years being angry or hurt.
I am approaching a birthday of some significance in less than two months. It kind of frightens me a little. I do like the fact that I can say I am a great deal happier than I was a decade ago. So maybe on second thought the age doesn't frighten me all that much. Age/living has softened me a bit. I can handle that.

jerusalem

I am answering some questions. If you comment, I will ask you questions. Simple enough.

cogshiftingman asks me:

1) What is the most embarrassing incident you recall from your time working in retail, that you are willing to no longer remain vague about?

I never really had any embarrassing incidents myself, but I recall something that happened in one retail job I had. We had a new hire and on his second day there he somehow (I believe he thought he was doing one thing, but another thing happened) soiled himself while working on the floor. He managed to wrap a blanket or something around himself and someone came to pick him up. Here is the thing I am still impressed with; he came back to work the next day. Everyone liked him a lot and never mentioned the incident. But one couldn't help think it when looking at him.

2) Given the choice of a large, plump breasted pigeon, or a large, plump breasted turkey, which would you rather cook, and what would you do with it?

I have cooked a lot of turkey so that is old hat. I think cooking a pigeon would be an interesting experience just because I haven't ever tried that. I think I would cook it with something like berries. I recall watching something where Marco Pierre White discussed being out in nature and being inspired by what he saw to pair game with edibles. Sure he might be known for being a bit of a psycho-path but the guy knows a bit about food. Though if one wanted to be accurate based on the pigeons one sees in an urban environment, one might pair a pigeon with fried chicken. Yeah... that is when you know that nature and birds are fucked up.

3) Have you ever had cause to repair your underwear with needle and thread?

Not that I recall. Such adornment is transient.

4) If you had to pick one redeeming feature of the UK, and England in particular, what would it be?

It sounds sort of bucolic but the countryside in England is magnicifient and surprising. I think some of it comes from my first visit there. We were driving along in Southern England and once we escaped all that is Heathrow and Slough, it kind of came as a great shock. It was like something out of a storybook. So even when there are the Vicki Pollards and boring BNP sorts trying to make England look like a sideshow, it is nice to see nature kind of doing its thing.
I also like the jaffa cakes.

5) On the whole, taking everything into consideration, would you rather have breasts or not?
I sense a theme...
Upon mild contemplation I think I would rather have breasts. They are a terrific example of the marriage of form and function. They can improve the line of an article of clothing, they can get you your own way, they can feed someone, they can provide hours of entertainment to someone. What is not to like?