Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Moral support

I commented recently on one of my social networking sites that, while my doctor had said I was just as big as I needed to be, apparently that meant I needed to be pretty damn big. An acquaintance replied immediately, "Of course! It takes a big woman to grow two men!" I'm so totally having a T-shirt made.

Views from the window

Despite the small size (under 600 SF) and the lack of parking, our apartment is just the right space for us; and it gives us marvellous views on a daily basis. Last night I saw a pair of fairy terns, ethereal petrel-like birds of nearly supernatural whiteness, dip and sway over the treetops where they nest on the bare branches. Set against a lowering bruise-colored sky, they looked less like birds and more like bird-shaped portals into a light-filled space beyond. Just now I turned and looked out to see, through the pouring rain, a hazy rainbow earthing itself in the campus of the private school opposite, so close that I could almost reach out and tie a knot in it.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Note to self

The best place to listen to a Magnificat for double choir is NOT right next to the third trombone. It does, however, give you a fantastic view of the two-year-old conducting the trombone section with his lollipop from the third row of pews.

Inside and outside the box

I came home Friday to find a package waiting for me. Inside was this exquisitely wrapped package:

rattles3

Carefully removing the wrapping, I found this handmade box:

rattles2

And within the box were these lovely wooden rattles, made from oak, gifts for the twins when they arrive:

rattles1

All of these are from the hand of my uncle Tom, the artist who's also responsible for the frame of our ketubah (our wedding contract):

First Sign of Things to Come

and, for those of you who visited our old apartment, the graphite drawings of leaves that hung over the kitchen table there (what, you think we've had time to hang art in the new place?). Heirlooms R Us, that's my uncle. We live surrounded by art, much of it from his hand (or those of his children - we also have a painting from his twin sons, also born in the Year of the Tiger, and a print from his daughter).

I was deeply moved by all of it, but the thing that I keep going back to is the blue box with the babies on it. Tom had no way of knowing that they've moved so they're lying exactly as he depicted them, yin and yang, end to end. I hope they are also smiling secretly to themselves, as he has pictured them.