I think it's been years since I wrote an entry. Here anyway.

We had only one day with nothing demanding attention from start to finish. However, I'd forgotten we'd had a doctor's appointment for Celia mid day. After that there was her passport appointment.

So we got started many hours later than originally planned. The idea was to go as a family to one of our places. The river where I've taken the kids to play for years when I'm not on call and cell phone signal isn't important.
The river they've come to associate with our family and their childhood.

The usual waterfront places were closed. I don't know why. It's mid-summer now and yet river spot after river spot was blocked. After deciding we were running out of daylight we settled for the one open.

I sent Leif to the right and Asher to the left to see if there were spots on the water which would suit us. I knew the water level would be higher. We've had rain this year.

Leif called us to his found spot. He was stood in the water, there were ants on the shore, and he's allergic. He carries a benadryl in his pocket out of fear.

We knew the spot he'd picked was not going to suit us, the water was moving too fast and it was difficult to determine depth across the water. There were giant logs pinned together to form a crossing. The kids asked why they were there, not a bridge. I said I wasn't sure. Perhaps they'd not been replaced yet. Perhaps they were only meant as a water breaker over the rocks just there. Who knows.
The last time we were at this spot, years ago, we interrupted a memorial ceremony where people were placing flowers next to the water. We decided we'd move on but we agreed to stop to regroup as everyone got together, Brian, Momo, Celia, Leif, Asher, Buttercup.

The boys gambled across the logs and back again. Asher got too close to the edge and slid down into the water. Leif also momentarily lost his balance and said last time we were at the water he'd fallen in - telling Celia. Celia said that's what it's like to be the oldest, you're the one who falls in.
The water was about calf high just there where they both in turn fell in.

Leif and Asher stepped gently across the logs. I knelt down to look at a wild orchid - they're so rare here. Celia cradled Momo in her arms on a rock. Brian watched from above. And suddenly - all at once, Leif lost his footing further across the log and went in, at the imperceptibly deep part. The fast running white watery part. The part where the water was sucked violently under the logs. All at once his limbs were sucked under the log and he screamed for me "Mommee!"
Then as I stood up looking down from above his face went fully under, looking up at me as he clung to the log from under the water.
Brian pushed at me shouting to save him. I pressed the camera and phone in my hand to Brian and pushed over the ledge I was on.
But in that moment, the moment his face went under and it was frozen in time in total terror - Celia screamed LEIF at the top of her lungs. "LEIF" and she leaped into the water. Diving forward without hesitation. She'd not stopped to think of her clothes or what was in her pockets. She just screamed her brother's name and dove forward.
She pulled his head up, and then he wrapped his arms around her. She screamed for him to pull himself out and his legs totally in the sluice he screamed back that he couldn't move. It was too strong. She was holding him, he was holding her. She'd braced herself against the log and a boulder. She screamed for me and by then I was in the water, rushing towards them.

I thought:
I wonder how good my CPR is?
I should scream to Brian to call emergency services.
They won't get here in time.
Will they know where we are?
If he goes under, will I see him on the other side of the logs?
Will my shoes slow me down?
I have to keep them on in case of hooks and glass.
Is there a phone in my pocket?
What if he hits his head?
What if I hit my head?
What if I can't pull him up?
Will I ever forget his face under the water?
And then - the clearest thought as I reached them - the moment of his birth. He was born in the caul. For those not birth oriented that means my water never broke, he was born fully intact inside the bag of waters, all in one little package. Celia thought he'd been plastic wrapped. And the midwife looked at me, as I stared at the little NHS watch dangling off of her chest "10:10" it said she said "that's good luck, it means he'll never drown."

And I shouted over the water at Celia to pass him to me and he reached for me with desperation and I thought: I can't let go, what if I don't have hold? Is he slippery?
So I pulled on his long arms as he wrapped them around me. I'd planted my legs as firmly as I could and I held him to me until I was sure I'd pulled all of him and then I passed him up the bank to Brian who pulled him out.
Then, I turned and reached for Celia and shouted over the water for her to hold me and I'd pull her out. And so she did, she reached and wrapped her arms around me and I lifted her out. And she began to pass me.
As Leif passed me I noted he was white, pale, the blood had gone from him. As Celia passed me I noticed she was also pale, very white, looking a little in shock and she was shuddering fully. Her face was stricken. As she began to reach for Brian on the bank I didn't let go. I held her.
We don't cuddle, Celia and I, but just then I needed to. She needed to. As she realized, she melted to me and we held each other in the raging water for a few moments.
The others were shouting but I couldn't quite make them out. Or Brian.
Leif was stood amongst ants and screaming for his shoes, tearing up in fear. The shoes had been torn off his feet, he kept screaming "Mommee, please, my shoes, I need my shoes, the ants, please."
A stick hit my leg and I threw it off me, then realizing the younger ones were shouting at me that it had been their butterfly net that had fallen in with their brother. I reached for it but it had been sucked under the log.
I reached under, just a bit in front of me to see if his shoes had hit a solid mass, perhaps they were there, and my arm was sucked towards the under water of the logs. I realized if I reached further I'd go under.

I asked Leif what had happened.  All he could say was he'd fallen, and he couldn't decide fast enough to let go or not so he was held in place under the water. He said if he'd let go, he was afraid his head would be stuck in the opening under the logs and he'd drown. He said if he didn't let go, he'd be held under water. By the time he'd come to a decision he couldn't pull himself back up.

I came up to the bank and Celia's face was still full of fear and hurt. She had a massive deep tissue bruise up her entire shin, and some laceration.  She'd braced herself trying to hold her brother and her leg had been the victim. Leif had red streaks up his arms. I pulled his sleeves up to see if he had cuts or deeper bruises. Celia was urgently checking him over explaining he wouldn't know if he were hurt, he'd be too full of adrenaline. The red marks were clearly hand prints where Celia and I had passed him to each other. He had one cut on the back of one arm. His eyes were red from tearing up.

Buttercup asked if he'd have died.

I turned to Celia and stroked her face, and then, thought of how she'd said the last time I'd said I loved her was Thanksgiving (a family tradition). I turned to her and said "I love you. Celia I love you." Over and over and she cried.

Later Leif asked what his face had looked like. It looked like the faces in the LOTR movie under the marsh water. I said it looked horrible. I asked what we'd looked like to him?
He said he couldn't see us, just darkness around the edges and the water over him. He said it looked like the underwater fishing videos of the fish's view looking up.
I decided to ask him if he was truly drowning.
"Could you pull yourself up? Were you fine? Did you even need Celia?"
He answered sort of quietly that no, he wasn't fine, he'd used all his bodily strength trying to draw his face above the water. He was drowning. His sister saved him.

Brian can't swim.

We were cold. I was wet to my shoulders, Celia and Leif were drenched. We stood there for some time deciding what to do. Finally, we decided to salvage our moods and to not let this be our memory of our river. We went further up, to the hotsprings and played in the shallow, safer water, until it became dark and we were all feeling a tiny bit more whole.

I'm going to pretend I don't hear you muttering about where I've been or what has been entertaining me (instead of writing) and instead I'm just going to resume like nothing happened. Because that's what I do, decide which comments live and which die. Now then, to ease us back in gently - some pictures - because who doesn't like pictures?And in the interest of "keeping it real" I'm going to give you pictures you will find no-where else (except on my hard drive). Because I know you, my semi-loyal readers, can handle the truth.

Because it just wouldn't be one of my blog posts without a head-wound

The kids seem to think I need a driving assistant. If I were my passenger I probably would too.

This story has a twist ending that totally makes it worth reading, should you ever find it in your library.

Caption Contest for this one in the comments below - ready GO

Don't look carefully, don't notice the dog pooing on the New Mexico state line. The opinions expressed herein are not -necessarily- the opinions of the people responsible for writing this

Caption Contest Number 2 - GO

Without coat

With a coat - ish

Caption Contest Number 3 - GO!

This one doesn't actually need a caption - and that's a heater behind them

 

And from me to you, and mine to yours - until next time!

I used to say that the fastest precursor to an emergency room trip in our family was hearing
"To Infinity! And Beyond!"

Today, I heard this:
"Queak's getting his ears pierced, and it's free!"

Me "when, from whom? Where?"

"Right now! In the living room!"
(one day my children will realize their mistake is telling me first - in the meantime I get to have the sunken heart by being their little rain cloud - even when they are ingenious little people.)

Me "huh, ha ha, ummm, no."

"BUT! We're using a yucca needle, it's totally safe!"

Me "what?"

"Yeah, that's how the real natives do it, and how it's supposed to be done - and we have the needle, and he's ready to go."

Me "This isn't a good idea - I mean - at the moment" (coward)

"BUT! We cleaned and sanitized the needle - and he WANTS this to happen - why not?"

Me "ummmmmmmm, welllllll, it has to be done very precisely, we'll have to read about the method before we actually attempt this, you can't just do the piercing"

"So I should untie him? What do I do with the needle and the towels?"

Buttercup "Well, I'll tell you what they do, those ear piecing girls. They pierce things, ears and faces. Here, here, here, here, here and here - oh and noses - he's safer at home."

This post is not a catch-up or excuse for where I've been.


I like blogger because I can flit from one blog to another and "follow" lots of bloggers that way. I am sort of fickle, and I get bored easily, so while if I find a blog I like, I'll scroll the beginning and read the entire thing like a book - I also lose interest and stop reading posts for a long time.
In the meantime, I've been toying with abandoning blogger and moving over to a wordpress format. 

I have times when I blog like that too. I seem to over-share or some such, have a bloggers regret and then stop blogging for long periods. Sometimes I have nothing to say. Sometimes, I have lots to say but I'm bored because no one actually reads this stuff. Sometimes the format feels wrong. Sometime facebook gets my attention instead - instant gratification.

So - I'm running a reader poll. For the 3 of you out there who read this - maybe 2 - what should I write about? Focus more on? Do less of? Etc..
My disclaimer is if I disagree with you, I'm going to ignore you completely.
In the meantime - tell me what you think?

It is the Ides of March, and I wish a happy one to you. Et tu.

I figured, this was a lovely day to get back into the blog saddle. Yes, I said lovely. Though, I'm a bit rusty on the ol' writing thing. So le's jus cut to the chase....

When I was younger, I had a bit of a classical education. I was brought up by my parents (imagine). Which sounds a bit obvious, except most people are also brought up by society, churches, synagogues, schools, extended family, etc.. Me not so much. I grew up in an island of my mother's making.
The classical education included my mother's (ahem - obsession) film collection. One such film was "Cleopatra." When we moved from Beta to VHS we bought "Cleopatra", which was a big deal because videos cost a small fortune back in the day. "Cleopatra" came on two tapes. Every time we watched it, I would endure the stories of watching it in the movie theater. Back when movies were real, and theaters were an adventure with velvet detail and proper aisles and whatnot. I did listen, I did find it interesting, I did appreciate being told but I was never sure what I was supposed to do with the information. I still have an image of the movie theater they watched "Cleopatra" in, in my mind.

When I got older, I realized I had no idea how many times I'd seen the movie. It was never one of my favorites, but it fascinated me nonetheless. I went through an Egyptology phase, as I believe all children do.
Normal children that is.
I had seen it often enough to have it memorized.

One day, for no reason, I was about 12 and sitting at the kitchen table with my grandmother having coffee, her mainline drug of choice. I asked, "what are the Ides anyway?"
 She said "the 15th."
"Of what?"
"Of March."
"Only March? Why is March so special that it deserves Ides? Did it become the Ides, and how?"
The question then became our theme of the day, and in the days before the internet had really caught on we decided to investigate. Which meant pulling a couple books off her shelves, not many books, she always knew where to look and I suspected she always already knew the answer and was just entertaining me.
The Roman calendar was investigated and we learned that the 15th was the Ides only for March, May, July and October.

These things entertained us greatly. You'd be right by guessing we had too much time on our hands, but it never seemed that way to me. It was a languidly sanguine education.
So we decided...to watch "Cleopatra." It was a nice day, and we had a good time and we would shush anyone who came home and into the room, as though it were hugely important that we take in every detail. This would be treated like the first time we'd seen the movie. This time, because we were being entertaining, my grandmother started in with all of her Hollywood gossip stories, which segued into her Egypt and Rome gossip stories. Which eventually segued into her childhood and how she'd come across it all (ancient history) herself. I remember realizing I'd aged enough to get it more both her stories and the movie, to know who the actors were. To feel differently from the times I'd seen it before.
From time to time after this I'd watch "Cleopatra" again alone. Sometimes, I thought Cleopatra was a spoiled brat. Sometimes, I found her pathetic. Sometimes, I found the entire thing supremely irritating. Once I cried for her.
Anyway, the Ides became our thing and every year on the Ides of March I would call my grandmother and wish her a Happy Ides. Sometimes I'd send her a card to arrive on that day.

In the alternate family universe, whenever family arguments would side against my mother, or she asked my opinion on something and my answer was unexpected she would utter in her pathetic tone (you'd have to know her to get the tone) "Et Tu, Brandi?"

When my mother died I stopped watching "Cleopatra." When my grandmother died I stopped knowing what to do with the Ides. No one else would get that. It was our thing. Every year it rolls around (in March), and every year I feel sorry for myself. Sometimes I still mime calling her and wishing her a Happy Ides. Sometimes I just say it in my head.

Today, for no reason, I wished my husband a Happy Ides, because often he doesn't let me down emotionally, and surely he'd say something pithy back. So he responded "Et Tu, Brandi." I told him that was my mother's pet phrase for me and he said she always got there first. Of course, anyone with half a consciousness would have been able to guess that, but hey, there ya go. I've wished other people a Happy Ides, and by and large I get confused, blinking stares.
So I said "Let's make the kids watch "Cleopatra" tonight!" and of course he said "Yes, lets's!"

What I hadn't predicted was how into it Celia would get for which reasons. I thought, because she'd identify with the romance, or the young queen. No, because she studied Rome and Egypt intensively before and has even some Latin to show for it, she was enthralled.
 And it made me happy. Because though they aren't here to lecture my children about proper movie experiences and over the top film productions, I can cast my mind to them as I lecture my children about my own classical education, and how this ties into the Hollywood version reality.
Thus far that's had lots of mutterings from me about the lack of CGI. "See those hundreds of people? They aren't copied. Those are real people! They really burnt those fires, they really did that, look at them all, look at their costumes. They filmed all this, think about the timing! Of course this is a fairytale version, but still."

If you haven't done so lately, I urge you to find a huge grandiose and outdated film. Something that lasts for 4 hours and you know every line. It will warm you, you'll see. Even if you can see visions of your 5 year old self with tears of boredom, waiting for intermission, dancing before yourself. (Unless, you were geeky, like me and detested intermission. In which case, have a glass of wine too - for good measure.)
And to you I wish a Happy Ides.