This morning, before she dropped by the
house to check her eBay, Sissy went to the doctor's to have the stitches taken out of the finger she slashed opening a package last week. Bubs didn't think much of this strange man holding 'his woman's' hand and was very protective, hanging on her shoulder, urging "Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Go!"
The doc finished re-bandaging her finger and said "Okay, all done. Good-bye."
Bubby laid his palm to his lips and blew him a kiss.
"Oh, that's so sweet," said the doc.
"Ummm, I don't that means what you think it does," said Sis.

She was feeling much better after a bout of food poisoning -bad salsa- so bad that Jake took her to the emergency room late Saturday night. She had become so dehydrated so quickly that it was playing havoc with all systems. After they pumped her full of fluids and anti-nausea meds, they let her come home about 2:30. I went back home to catch a few hours sleep before returning at 6:00 so Jake could go to work.

The children and I had a lovely day: we went out for donuts and fast food breakfast, did some housework, read a little "Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle", played "Guess Who" and then "Babies", while Bub napped. Nini had a birthday party to go to that afternoon and rode with a friend from across the street. Little Man and I went for a walk in the stroller.

I switched out with Bob around three, so I could rest a minute and go to mass. But when I phoned on my way to church, there was intense baby distress in the background, so I went back to help feed and bathe Bubs and put him to bed. He'd had enough of people, even Mimi and G-daddy, who were not his Mom.

Brother was still at the house, doing his laundry, when we got back. I made a quick dinner and visited with him. I tried to stay up and watch the first episode of "The War", but gave up on staying awake.

I'm reading Mr. Norrell & Jonathan Strange, by Susanna Clarke. It's different than the blurb suggests. I was anticipating something darker: 'like Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde', Bob said. My best description of what I've read so far is that it's a sort of Gothick Vanity Fair. I'm very taken with the footnotes; admiring her ability to write long scholarly notes on entirely invented bodies of work. In this, it recalls Byatt's Possession. Not the same volume and variety, of course, but still good.

The amount of overt moonbattery on display last week and this one would be even more depressing and worrisome without Gagdad Bob's series on the Unconscious, Symmetrical Logic and the Left over at One Cosmos. As 2008 draws closer, I'm feeling a dull sense of dread about the whole year of madness we'll have to navigate. I've paid close attention to the last nine presidential campaigns. I do not think it's my imagination that they've increased in venom and craziness over the last 16 years or so.