Wednesday, June 27, 2012


I'm afraid we've got ourselves a misfit toy.  Kind of like, but not exactly like, a choochoo with square wheels, or a water pistol that shoots jelly, or worst of all... a cowboy that rides an ostrich.

Incase it is so much a misfit that you find it hard to identify, it's a rubber swan that can't stay upright.  The real killer is that it doesn't squeak.  It makes the most ungodly of sounds.  Something between honking and the scraping of styrofoam.  If you squeeze it, Levin starts crying.  That isn't an exaggeration.

I imagine we'll be having a flying lion visit us some night and awaken to a missing rubber swan.  On the other hand, I may claim him for myself.  He doesn't float upright because of his crown... I'm a sucker for object lessons.

Ande, where did you find this again?  An island?

Saturday, June 16, 2012

The Fountain of Youth

I think I had an ancestor that could still do one armed push-ups when he was 90 years old.  Or maybe it was that he could still out arm-wrestle anyone in the county when he was 95.  Or maybe he was 100 years old.  I can't remember the details, but I think I once heard a story and it impressed me.

I think I'll make my impression on the future by being the grandma that could still do flips on the trampoline when she was 105.  I may only have one child to impress with this awesome feat due to a prolapsed uterus, but impressed they will be.

Then, after I'd done my showing off, I let Levin get on for a turn.