Good old democracy at work

As you probably are aware, the radical Islamic party, Hamas, has just won 76 of 132 parliamentary seats in the Palestinian government, giving them a majority rule. The opposition party's Prime Minister Ahmed Qureia and his cabinet have resigned as a result.

What does this mean for the 'peace process' in the Middle East? Perhaps some clues can be found in these quotes from the Hamas Charter:

Israel will exist and will continue to exist until Islam will obliterate it, just as it obliterated others before it.

There is no solution for the Palestinian question except through Jihad. Initiatives, proposals and international conferences are all a waste of time and vain endeavors.

What does it mean that the majority of Palestinian voters approve of the annihilation of Israel as a state?

Not every day an aurora borealis

This is for Aurora White and her parents. I think of this every time I see you - hope you are feeling better now!

Not Every Day an Aurora Borealis for Your Birthday

It is because I love you I give you for a birthday present the aurora borealis.

It was a long trip I took carrying the aurora borealis to you. Slippery is the aurora borealis. You think you have a hold of it - but it is sliding away off your hands and shoulders and you have to stop and get a better hold on it.

Many times it came near getting away from me. But I struggled with it and went on struggling...till at last I laid on your doorstep, on your front porch, stretching high into the sky, that fine big stack of shimmering swimmering lights, that good old reliable aurora borealis.

When you want another aurora borealis you tell me and I will go where the aurora borealises grow and I will struggle and go on struggling till I lay on your doorstep, on your front porch, one more aurora borealis, to show I love you.

And if you write to me saying you would like to have a big rainbow fresh off the sky, I will struggle and go on struggling till you see it right there on your doorstep, your front porch.

You can see I am a struggler ready any day to struggle on to show you I love you.

It is the text of a little book called Not Every Day an Aurora Borealis for Your Birthday: A Love Poem by Carl Sandburg. It is wonderfully illustrated by Anita Lobel, and I would highly recommend getting the book if you can find it. It is such a beautiful and delightful work of art, just like baby Aurora.

She speaks (and watches Lost)

Here's a hodgepodge entry today. First, you must listen to the cute Butterfly speak here. Isn't she adorable? These are her happy coos. She also has some frustrated coos, as well.

I read in my baby book (The Baby Book, by William Sears & Martha Sears -- the BEST ever) that if parents respond quickly to their baby's cries and cues, then the baby learns that it doesn't need to cry for it's needs and instead uses other means of communication first. And it is true - if Butterfly is frustrated, she is starting to use her frustrated coos instead of a whine or a cry. Some (crazy) people think that if you ignore a baby's cries, you can 'train' it not to cry (so it won't manipulate you into meeting its needs or something - I don't know). However, if a baby is ignored when it is giving early signals or crying, it will learn to cry MORE and not less. In fact, those babies will start out with their loudest cries immediately when they have a need, probably because they have learned that no one is listening to their other signals.

We have always tried to respond to Butterfly as quickly as possible when she has a need, and she really cries very little. Now that she is becoming verbal, she is really communicating even more and crying and whining even less when she is frustrated. So it really works!

Now on to Lost....does anyone else reading this blog watch Lost? (For that matter, does anyone else read this blog.....?) Since Butterfly can't talk back and tell me what she thinks and Rob is at work most of the time, I have discovered some interesting message boards talking about Lost. I haven't posted anything yet, but it is interesting to read what others think. Here is an interesting and very complex theory. What do you think?

Wednesday night's episode was interesting. People are wondering why Sawyer was calling the 'other' man Zeke. My theory is that when the boat met up with the raft at sea last season, the guy introduced himself as Zeke (before shooting Sawyer and kidnapping Walt). Of course, my memory is not really functioning now after almost 4 months of sleep deprivation, so I could have imagined that. We do have that episode on DVD (we watched it in Hungary after Mike D sent it to us - YAY) so Rob says I should watch it again and see. But it was so traumatic!

(Funny - Rob got me extra memory for my iBook at Chrismas. I asked him if he could also upgrade my brain's memory.....)

Back to Lost, some people think Walt was one of the others holding the torches. Also that there weren't really that many others - it was just a trick of some kind. What do you think? Can't wait till next week!

My baby is made of sugar

This has been running around in my head for weeks and just came together this morning:

My baby is made of sugar
I don't know if you are aware

She has chocolate eyes
And lollipop lips
And strawberries in her hair

My baby is made of sugar
Confectioner's I believe
Cotton candy for cheeks
And a gumdrop nose
It's something you just have to see

My baby is made of sugar
From her head down to her feet
With her licorice fingers
And marshmallow toes
There's nothing on earth that's as sweet!

Candy, anyone?

I couldn't have said it better myself:

"I want to throw a Mexican-themed party and have a giant pinata in the shape of Ted Kennedy's head."

(A quote from JD regarding the Alito confirmation hearings)

Technologically speaking

I have discovered the web browser Firefox (via my husband, who tends to discover the tech things first) and have been using it for the last couple of weeks. And WOW! I love it - much more than IE or Safari. I think everyone should try it and experience these fun things:

Live Bookmarks: Some web pages have RSS feeds that let your browser know when the pages are updated. Firefox uses this & it is my favorite feature. Basically, you bookmark a page and then when you want to go there, you click on your bookmark to see a dropdown list of the new articles, etc. on the page. You can click on one of them & it will go directly to that article. This bypasses the step of loading the page and then going to the new article. For example, instead of going to my entire blog, you could just go to the latest blog entry. And then, of course, if there is nothing new, you can just skip going to the page.

Tabbed Browsing: Within one browser window, you can open up several tabs at once to view different pages (instead of opening new windows). This works with the above bookmark feature - you can open all the updates in tabs & it does it all at once. So while you are reading one, others can be loading.There are other features like popup ad blocking, virus protection, etc. And there are some really neat search features I haven't tried yet, but sound really easy & quick. Quick is important because we have dial-up still, and I wait long enough for things as it is!

So....go here and try out Mozilla's Firefox browser - it's free! Let me know what you think if you try it. Or if you already use it.

Poet laureate of my heart

I guess it's a poetry week. Here's one by the best one of them all - my darling husband. Isn't it lovely?

You I Love

Sometimes I see your smile
your slope I stop I realize the creature
of beauty before me

It cuts me sometimes
the beauty you wear like a jacket
and toss about with as much care
and, wrinkled nose, pose
disapproved
before your gaze

You look a want of new
You somehow, tired of the
You you see, the
you I love

Your skin is its own world
hidden, so much of it, so often
from all but me

A masterpiece given to
me alone, a Sistine Chapel for
only my touch, only my
eyes to touch, a drink of you
solitary
inside my sight

You look alright to me
You see your slouch, I see
You shining, the
you I love

(Rob H)

Introduction to poetry

I was listening to A Prairie Home Companion in the car recently, and I heard someone reading the end of what seemed to be a poem written from the point of view of a deceased dog talking to his owner. It was hilarious. Unfortunately, I arrived at my destination and had to leave the car before finding out who the reader/author was. So I did some research the other day and discovered that it was Billy Collins. Of course!!!

He is one of our favorite poets, introduced to us by our friend Eric. Every time there is a 'reading party' (that's when it's someone's birthday or something and we say, 'everyone bring something to read - a poem, an essay, a short book', and we read aloud to each other), Billy Collins is an absolute favorite. Here's why:

The Revenant

I am the dog you put to sleep, as you like to call the needle of oblivion, come back to tell you this simple thing: I never liked you--not one bit. When I licked your face, I thought of biting off your nose. When I watched you toweling yourself dry, I wanted to leap and unman you with a snap. I resented the way you moved, your lack of animal grace, the way you would sit in a chair to eat, a napkin on your lap, knife in your hand. I would have run away, but I was too weak, a trick you taught me while I was learning to sit and heel, and--greatest of insults--shake hands without a hand. I admit the sight of the leash would excite me but only because it meant I was about to smell things you had never touched. You do not want to believe this, but I have no reason to lie. I hated the car, the rubber toys, disliked your friends and, worse, your relatives. The jingling of my tags drove me mad. You always scratched me in the wrong place. All I ever wanted from you was food and fresh water in my metal bowls. While you slept, I watched you breathe as the moon rose in the sky. It took all of my strength not to raise my head and howl. Now I am free of the collar, the yellow raincoat, monogrammed sweater, the absurdity of your lawn, and that is all you need to know about this place except what you already supposed and are glad it did not happen sooner-- that everyone here can read and write, the dogs in poetry, the cats and the others in prose.

(Billy Collins, from his cd The Best Cigarette)

His website is located here. You can also go here and read a few of his poems. (You MUST do this; they are SO fun. I want to buy all his books, including the new The Trouble With Poetry and Other Poems. By the way, he was once the poet laureate for the U.S.

I will leave you with an

Introduction to Poetry

I ask them to take a poem
and hold it up to the light
like a color slide

or press an ear against its hive.

I say drop a mouse into a poem
and watch him probe his way out,

or walk inside the poem's room
and feel the walls for a light switch.

I want them to waterski
across the surface of a poem
waving at the author's name on the shore.

But all they want to do
is tie the poem to a chair with rope
and torture a confession out of it.

They begin beating it with a hose
to find out what it really means.

(Billy Collins)

Baby Mine

I have decided that if I never play my songs out live again or never finish recording them, that's ok. I think the BEST thing I could ever do with my voice is sing to this sweet little creature here. Last night, I sang her the song "Baby Mine" when she was crying, and she went from tears to smiles immediately. (I think it's her favorite song currently.) And I realized that there's no audience to whom I'd rather sing.

So I think I'll spend today singing to, cuddling, rocking and loving my adorable Butterfly. It's the most fun I've ever had!

By the way, I saw online that the above song is from the movie Dumbo, so I was thinking that we should watch it because I don't think I ever saw it (or at least I don't remember much about it other than the cute big ears.) Then Rob said it was SO sad because Dumbo gets separated from his mommy! Um.....I think I'll wait a while to watch it. I have too many dreams about being separated from Butterfly as it is!

The truth that lies beyond

Here is a quote from one of my favorite people, my dear (and clever) husband:

There are some ideas and concepts that just punch holes through the web of language and let shine the light of the truth that lies beyond.

To sing of brightness and beauty

Here's a quote from Cancer Ward, by Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, one of my favorite novels (and authors) ever: The author is describing the character Vera Gangart:

Her smile was kind, not so much her smile as the lips themselves. They were vital seperate lips, which seemed about to flutter from her face like a lark into the sky. They were made, as all lips are, for kissing, yet they had other more important work to do: to sing of brightness and beauty.

Everyone should read that book and really anything else by Solzhenitsyn. As you can see from the paragraph above, he has a lovely way with words. I am trying to read more of his work, but he wrote so accurately about the oppression in the Soviet Union that much of his work is very, very sad and disturbing (though Cancer Ward is, surprisingly, not so sad and kind of funny at times).

For his trouble and talents, he was arrested many times, tossed into the gulag (prison camp) and was eventually exiled to Kazakhstan. He also won an Nobel prize for literature, which may have saved his life. It brought him and his work so much attention from the outside world that the Soviets couldn't really kill him without a big uproar. He eventually left (escaped?) the USSR, and he now lives in Vermont. For a brief biography of this remarkable author and man, go here.

Also, if you are an artistic person, you MUST read his Nobel prize acceptance speech located here. Wow.

Now read his books! You can start with A Day In The Life Of Ivan Denisovich; it's really short and covers one day in the life of a gulag prisoner. Then be sure and read Cancer Ward. (By the way, the author also had a bout with cancer when he was in exile and spent time in a soviet cancer ward. And we think our lives are hard...) For some really sad but true non-fiction, you can read The Gulag Archipelago about life in the former Soviet Union.

Thank you, Mr. Solzhenitsyn, for believing in a better world than the one you saw around you and for persevering to show us that art really can change things. May the rest of your life be peaceful, and may you see as many days of joy as you did sorrow.

You Are More

Here's a journal entry I wrote a while ago that I read at the Crucible once. It's posted for Lauri S - at long last!

You Are More

You are like a bird who soars high and sees farther than I do. You are light and have a beautiful song. Your feathers are made of more colors than I can imagine.

But you are more than a bird.

You are like a lion. You are bold and brave and can find me when I'm hidden. You have a powerful roar and are intimidating to those who are not your friends.

But you are more than a lion.

You are like a horse and can run as fast as the wind. You laugh at fear and carry me far from trouble. You are majestic and beautiful.

But you are more than a horse.

You are like a flower. You are gentle and beautiful and full of sweetness. You can bring smiles to dreary days.

But you are more than a flower.

You are like an ocean and are so deep I cannot reach the bottom of you. You can crush anything in your path. I could get lost in you.

But you are more than an ocean.

You are like light. You can shatter the darkness and chase it away with just a tiny piece of you. You show my path to me when I am lost.

But you are more than light.

You are like music and you can stir my heart, touching it gently or deeply, whichever you choose. You can get past all my blocks and walls and gates with no effort. You can bring me peace with just a whisper.

But you are more than music.

I don't know what you are, but I do know that if you are more than a bird, a lion, a horse, a flower, an ocean, the light and music, you are bigger than my imagination can contain.

You are everything and everything is yours. There is no end to you and no beginning, but with you every beginning starts and we will find our end in you.

You made everything, and you are revealed by your creation and that is so mysterious to me. Everything we discover about it is from you.

Such a magnificent being.
Such a majestic brilliance.
Such a grand and indescribable person.

And YOU saw ME.

You saw me and you loved me entirely. You followed me and you wooed me and you made me fall in love with you. You WANT me. You want ME.

Such things are too great for me to understand, but I will never stop trying.

I will never stop looking at the parrot feathers and knowing that yours are even more full of colors I've never seen.

I will never stop imagining how much more powerful and majestic you are than lions or horses.

I will notice the flowers and thank the merciful heart who gave us such beauty.

When I am at the ocean, I will know that though it is vast, it is but a drop to you.

I will ever be grateful for light that shines and music that melts me and I will know that YOU are HE that chose me.

And for that, I will give you my everything.

When u sing, u begin with DoReMi

My favorite Christmas present this year (except for the Butterfly, of course - though September was a little early for Christmas) was from Rob. He wrote me a song called 'You Bloom'. I talked him into posting the recording, so if you want to hear it, click here.

It is now my favorite song, of course. I can't get it out of my head - good thing it's so pretty! Rob is singing & playing guitar and programmed everything else. He's so smart. And creative.

When u read, u begin with ABC

I just read the most PERFECT description of trying to drive from one place to another in England. It is from a mystery novel my father-in-law gave me. Here it is:

Have you ever tried to find a village in England after dark? Night in the desert is nothing to it. You see a sign at last that says 'Whatsit two and a half miles' and you think: Good old Whatsit! Nearly there! Hurrah for England and signposts! And then half a mile on you come to a place where three ways fork, and there's a nice tidy signpost on the little bit of green in the middle and every blame one of that signpost's arms has got at least three names on it, but do you think one of them mentions Whatsit? Oh, no! That would make it far too easy! ... So you take one of the three roads, and after passing two more signposts that don't take any notice of Whatsit, you come to one that says: Whatsit, six and three-quarters. So you start off all over again, four miles to the bad, as it were, and it happens all over again. And again! And by the time Whatsit has done that on you half a dozen times, you don't care what happens as long as you can stop driving around corners and go to sleep. (from A Shilling For Candles by Josephine Tey)

The same also applies to the Motorways (interstates) in England and all the roads in Germany. They can't just say M-1 North or M-2 South and have an arrow. NOOOOO..... they just put the name of several towns and have an arrow. Heaven help you if you don't know the name of every town between you and the place you want to be! And if it's August, you better have a hotel reservation....as we found out the hard way. Maybe that'll be a blog entry for later.

Josephine Tey is a British novelist who wrote during the first half of the 20th century. She wrote mysteries to support herself so she could write plays, which is what she really loved. It's kind of like Madeline L'Engle acting in plays to support herself while she was writing. Their 'real' jobs sound so much more fun than testing software or building cabinets or waiting tables which are the real jobs here in Nashville.

Back to Ms. Tey...my father-in-law recently discovered her and is reading all her books (and then passing them on to others.) I've read and enjoyed 2 of them so far. The author does not let you figure out whodunit, so there's no point in trying. But the plots and characters are interesting.

A very good place to start

Here's a Christmas picture of Baby Butterfly. She is wearing her new legwarmers - aren't they cute? (If you want some, they are available here.)

She's also wearing her ever-present bib, since she spits up a LOT, something she inherited from her daddy, according to his parents. The biggest problem with that is NOT the laundry it generates or the fact that we need tons of bibs and burpcloths. It's not even having to change my own clothes because neither bib nor burpcloth nor baby caught her milky offering. Those things really don't bother me, believe it or not. No, my ONLY complaint is that her bibs cover up her little outfits, so you can't see them entirely. I'm such a clothes person, and I SO want her adorable tops to be visible and not covered in bibs, no matter how decorative they are! Oh well, the reflux commonly stops by around 6 months....just in time for the teething drool...

On a lighter note...the Butterfly appears to have been born a very SOCIAL butterfly. Hmm...I wonder where she got that! She smiles and coos so much and is SO friendly to people. And she doesn't wait for you to smile at her; if you just glance over at her, she'll stop you in your tracks with her toothless smiles. She has even made friends with the baby in the mirror; they smile and have wonderfullly amicable conversations. I wonder what they are talking about.

Speaking of the Butterfly, I just looked over at her and she was looking at me with the sweetest little sleepy grin on her face. Wow...I love being her mommy. As a former little girl who played with baby dolls all day long, I can say that having her as my own real baby is truly a dream come true! Thanks to God....and Rob!

Let's start from the very beginning

Well, I've decided to start a blog. Why? Here are some reasons:

1. I have not-so-much adult conversation in my life currently since I'm home with Baby Butterfly, and I MUST get these thoughts out of my head.

2. I have discovered the art of surfing the net of late (one of the only things possible to do while simultaneously nursing a newborn) and am constantly finding really interesting things I'd like to pass along.

3. I've always meant to write something - novel, poetry, songs, a memoir, southern gothic short stories - and since none of those are forthcoming, I thought I'd start with a blog.

What will I write about? Thanks for asking! Who knows, really... I'm thinking it will be mixture of things like literature, politics, music, parenting, my cute butterfly, faith, pop culture, whatever. I hope to write something every day or two, so please bookmark the site if you like what you read.

Oh, and please leave comments! It is the closest thing I get to contact with the outside world sometimes. Happy reading.