early bathing experiences

Wonder who liked their bath the most?

From Lindsey at Theo Geo under the ol’ Creative Commons attribution license.

Baby Cletus gets a washing from my mom

slow recovery

This c-section nonsense sucks. What makes it even (slightly) worse is that I knew it would be bad and tried my darndenest to avoid one.

I’ve now had two incidents of incision blow out. The first being in a doctor’s office, the second in my bed in the early hours of Wednesday morning. These are some freaky experiences – leaking a LOT of fluid from your belly – a place where you hadn’t had a hole before. Like enough fluid to soak through gauze, nightgown, bedclothes, into the mattress… The first time I soaked through a whole bath towel and took a ride in an ambulance to the ER. On the upside, that saved me bus fair home – since the ER is less than a block from my house.

This time the fluid was darker in color. This time they seemed to take the incident a little more seriously.

I went back to my doctor for yet another round of antibiotics. I am feeling really frustrated because I’m not really sure what’s going on, I feel weak and tired, and the drugs aren’t kicking it.

I am trying to rest. I’ve been watching a lot of daytime tv. I find the shows I liked to watch in the 70s and early 80s the most restful: Quincy, Hart to Hart, I Dream of Jeanie, plus some Columbo and Perry Mason tv movies – still hoping to find a cache of re-runs of Love Boat and Fantasy Island on the cable.

How wrong is that?

Via Nashville’s Tiny Cat Pants – I learn that all but four counties in my home state charges rape victims for the evidence collecting rape kit:

Also, just now, the governor is going to sign a bill that would have the state cover the cost of the rape exam. Yes, America, you heard that right. Until Thursday, June 21st, 2007, unless you were “lucky” enough to be raped in one of four counties that provide free rape kits here in Tennessee, you had to foot the bill–anywhere from $600-1,000–for the collection of evidence of a crime committed against you.

Sick.

i said i wouldn’t do it

I keep saying I’m not going to blog about the presidential elections – until – you know, it’s an actual election year. And I’m not – it’s just that Fred was in town yesterday – and that’s really more like blogging about a colorful former neighbor than it is about the election – since Fred hasn’t even declared.

Anyway Sean Braisted picks up The Tennessean coverage of the Fred visit:

“The United States, Great Britain and our coalition should be proud of what we have averted. Imagine Saddam Hussein and his murderous sons in power today, successfully defying the international community and free to pursue weapons programs.”

Hrmm…imagine a region more stable with Saddam in power. Imagine Iraq not being a proving ground for future 9/11 type terrorists. Imagine a more diplomatic resolution to our worries over WMD in Iraq. Imagine a country not in the throws of a 21st Century civil war…Imagine, its easy if you try.

My faux Estonian* carpenter once said to me – well, right after Saddam Hussein was captured “I don’t know why everybody is so happy about Saddam, he was the right man for the right place.”

(He also said that things were much better when Estonia was part of the USSR because at least you got an apartment.)

I didn’t much subscribe to either Igor’s or Mr Braisted’s view, but I’m beginning to wonder if the bloody calculus is starting to tip to Saddam’s favor? And when you do really start to reckon that maybe things would have been better off under that butcher, then you know we can’t go on keeping on with what we’re doing.

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Meanwhile, Fred Thompson’s lecture to the Policy Exchange garnered some attention on this side of the water, too. Mostly for Fred being homophobic. Is he? I mean if he hadda been on his way out of Lawrenceburg, that wouldn’t have surprised me. But now? After all those years filming in La-la Land and NYC and living in DC. I doubt it. But you never know.

Iain Dale has the views and the links to Fred’s actual speech.

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I was gonna post this yesterday – but I had a bad day with the baby….

*faux Estonian – turns out that he was really ethnic Russian – and you know what they say about Russian carpentry

cha-ching

My neighbourhood in the news….

Tooting, once a byword for a run-down, inner-city ward on the Northern Line – famously dubbed the commuters’ Misery Line for its haphazard service and over-crowded trains – is rapidly coming up in the world.

It’s about the Conservative party pinning its hopes on the Tooting [type] voter.

anticipation

Why I hate the movies

In the anticipatory phase of Baby Cletus’s arrival, folks told me I should take advantage of my freedom and go to the cinema.

I said I appreciated the thought, and I was enjoying restaurant meals and such like, but that I had given up on the cinema years ago – and would only go about once a year.

Why?

1. Too bloody expensive
2. Movies are no good any more, out of my one film a year for the past several years – I enjoyed but one of them – Walk the Line.
3. The experience isn’t as good as it used to be.

And why’s that?

Melusina nails it on the head:

To add insult to injury, there is now apparently assigned seating in this particular multiplex, which my husband finds dignified and civilized, but I just find it annoying. There is nothing like paying for a seat which forces you to climb over twenty people already sitting down instead of being able to sit in another row. I’d like a side order of fascism with my overpriced Pepsi, please.

For some reason this just drives me bonkers. In the theatre, I don’t mind. But in the cinema, I like the advantage of arriving early and picking my seat – preferably near an exit row – so I can make a quick getaway should the movie be too rubbish to endure.

You might be a…

…libertarian if.

This is why I just say I have some libertarian tendencies.

Forming tastes

Sorry for the throw-away post today. Tough job, mothering.

However, I just wanted to share with you this photo of the young Master Cletus

listening to Johnny Cash

When we turned on the stereo this morning, he turned his little head toward the speakers.

Good boy, he likes the Man in Black.

California emissions standard

I used to love to watch The Price is Right with VolBro – especially sitting in the easy chairs in my grandparents bedroom – but anywhere really. VolBro was a natural – he was usually right – even when he was a little tiny kid with no money or shopping experience of his own.

He was very good on guessing the price of cars – often guessing what I thought was quite high. When I’d voice my doubts, he’d pipe up in his little 6 year old voice “you can’t forget the California emissions – that always makes it higher.” And he was right.

I can’t say that I built my life around TPIR (as my grandmother sometimes did), but I really enjoyed it.

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When I moved to the UK, I had to leave behind TPIR. Well, sorta. There is a British version of the show, but it’s only a half an hour. There’s no showcase showdown – the showcase contestant competes against a randomly selected margin of error (though of course, one can never go over on the price). There’s no reminder to spay or neuter your pets. California emissions do not come as standard – and there’s no Bob Barker.

Sure, there’s Plinko and the other little games I knew and loved. But there’s no Bob Barker. And I can’t but watch the show without thinking “Hey, this guy isn’t Bob Barker.” The show has since been cancelled and I can’t help but think – without the refined dignity of Bob Barker (the British version always seemed kinda sleazy) – it’s no wonder that it didn’t work out.

Now America will have to watch TPIR with the interior monologue running “Hey, this guy isn’t Bob Barker.” Although, there’s some speculation that folks may be saying “Hey, this gal isn’t Bob.”

Bob retired this month – his last show airing on Friday. It makes me a little sad.

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My cousin Blake won a car on TPIR. He gave it to his mother. It had California emissions standard.