Firstly, I want to point out that I am completely head-over-heels in love.
Well, yes, with Stephen, but that was not who I was talking about. I was talking about Jamina (as I have named her.)
Jamina is a giraffe.
To be specific, she is an Anne-claire Petit giraffe that sits behind the window of the BabyLove shop that we walk past all the time. I love her. She NEEDS to come home with me. This is not a want - she says they do not feed her behind that glass window, and that no one loves her the way that I already do.
I have spoken to Girard, (my resident male alpha-giraffe who makes quite a good living as a doctor and who wishes me to point out that not only is he rich, but he is also quite cool as he has only 1 ear pierced and wears a groovy hoop in) and he has decided that he will marry Jamina. JoJo (my much smaller and newer male not-alpha giraffe) disagreed and stated that any female giraffe would be his for the taking; but quickly changed his mind after Girard head-butted and bit him a few times. There was much giraffe grumbling for a few days following said conversation, but it has gotten better.
Oh, but the agony! You see, for all that I NEED to bring Jamina home, I just can't bring myself to frivolously part with the money to do so. And it is an interesting thing, the UK tends to frown on shoplifting. Goodness knows I can't stand to be frowned upon by matronly English women. They are seriously scary when they frown like that. So for now, Jamina the wonderful English lady giraffe sits locked behind a glass window, Girard gripes at me to hurry up and bring his wife home, and JoJo pouts about not being an alpha-giraffe. Maybe someone will rescue her in my name for Christmas and all will be right in the giraffe world again.
Secondly, there are lots of exciting things happening with our family blog. Stephen, the computer deity, has added the sidebar with our Twitter feeds. Right now it is just mine and his, but I suspect Ashley may be adding one in a few days time also. Then you can see what the whole family is saying at any moment.
I want to say a few things about this that I consider to be a phenomenon. I have known of Twitter for a bit: I read some other blogs that have Twitter feeds on them. I, to be frank, thought they were silly. Micro-blogging seemed like a bit of a waste of time. But Stephen, after attending this year's Hand-held Learning Conference last week in London,
(yes, *moan* I was abandoned for three days! Woe! Woe is me!)
came home not only with a Twitter account, but excited about it and something else he called 'picto-chatting' on his hand-held video game device thingie. (Don't ask me which one, I can't remember. The name has a DS in it, it is rectangular and black, and you can write on it with a special pen. It has sudoku. And 'picto-chatting', apparently.) He told me basically that, if I want to read what he writes, I had better get my own account. So I did. And to be honest, I love it.
Writing a blog is a huge deal, requiring lots of planning and lots of time. I usually start them a few days before in a separate file and add to them as I go. If I sit down to write one from nothing, I can count on a few hours slipping by while I write, rewrite, and edit. Micro-blogging takes me maybe 30 seconds! Which means that I can do it more than once during the day without losing a lot of time. Time is a commodity with me lately, especially while I try to write papers and finish this degree.
If you want a Twitter of your own, follow the link on the side. It won't lead you directly to us, but if you want my Twitter info, and I know you, email or message me and I'll give you details.
And finally, the actual stuff that is going on with us. Because I know this is really what you wanted to know anyway and the rest is just you all putting up with my inability to shut my mouth.
The linen closet is still leaking. It is now leaking badly enough that we have put a 10 gallon trashcan under it and we must change it 3 to 4 times a day. We have started turning off the water in the house at night because it was overflowing by the time we got up in the morning, even after emptying right before crawling into bed. We now have the plumber's direct number, so Monday perhaps we can get ahold of him and get it solved.
Stephen has been sick since he got back from London last week. Poor him, running a fever of 101 and being all yucky. He stayed home from work, which I think was a good thing. He had a cold a few weeks before that, too... and I haven't been sick. Last year was a terrible year for me health wise, and I am so very glad to see that my immune system has gotten itself picked up and back into shape. I really want to stay healthy.
Ashley has a new boyfriend, which I see she has neglected to tell any of you. His name is Michael and thus far he seems to be fairly gentlemanly. Last night I overheard him telling her off because she was putting her required amount of study off until the last minute. He told her she was being lazy. Considering that previous beaus didn't really care if Ash studied, I am very grateful that this one is pushing her to do well. Of course, I haven't made my mind up entirely... I reserve the right to continually evaluate him. She is, after all, my little girl.
The weather has been pleasant, though it is easy to tell that we are heading through fall and into winter. The leaves have started changing colour on the trees. The sun rises later and sets earlier, and the wind is cold in my ears. I have moments where I am absolutely swept away by the beauty of where I am living. I am very blessed and very grateful for my life right now. I still miss my Boo-bear, though.
Dinner for Stephen's birthday went wonderful. The food was perfect. The house was completely clean, and smelled lovely. (I LOVE smudging. I used white sage, and it worked brilliantly.) It was crowded, but went very well. The company was very nice too. Stephen's nephews have grown so much. It was nice to have little ones around.
Stephen's mum had a lovely little Spanish fan that she used when the house overheated, and I liked it. The way she would let it fall open with a practised flick of the wrist was beautiful, as was the fan itself. I mentioned that I would love to have one, and asked if she would be willing to pick one up for me the next time she went to Spain. Instead she sent one home with Stephen when he came back from his conference. I have been practicing opening it so that I can be as beautiful as she is when she does it. I'm not convinced I ever will be, though. She has had her whole life steeped in the culture that created those movements, and it shows. I am, and ever will be, a foreigner to the movements of the fan.
