Typical

Today I bought my son a Beta fish. He named the thing Beta (original), and proceeded wax poetic about how pretty Beta is, how he loves Beta fish, how he wants to give Beta a pretty home.

Ten minutes later, he earnestly asked, "Mom, when is Beta going to die?"

My heart lurched when I considered that he might be thinking of the whole circle of life so soon, and I was quiet while I thought of an appropriate way to segue into discussions of aging and the afterlife.

But before I could say anything, he continued, "Will she die soon, Mommy? Because when Beta dies, I want a turtle. Or a bigger fish."

Or a prettier, perhaps younger model, Mr. Jagger????

I feel for my future daughter-in-law, I really do.

Question of the Day:

Will I ever feel like posting again??? I'm so not in the mood anymore.

September 11


In memory of Angel Luis Juarbe, a New York City firefighter who died at the World Trade Center on 9/1/01:

Our little hour, how swift it flies
When poppies flare and lilies smile;
How soon the fleeting minute dies,
Leaving us but a little while
To dream our dream, to sing our song,
To pick the fruit, to pluck the flower,
The Gods—They do not give us long,
One little hour.

Our little hour, how short it is
When Love with dew-eyed loveliness
Raises her lips for ours to kiss
And dies within our first caress.
Youth flickers out like wind-blown flame,
Sweets of to-day to-morrow sour,
For Time and Death, relentless, claim
Our little hour.

Our little hour, how short a time
To wage our wars, to fan our hates,
To take our fill of armoured crime,
To troop our banners, storm the gates.
Blood on the sword, our eyes blood-red,
Blind in our puny reign of power,
Do we forget how soon is sped
Our little hour?

Our little hour, how soon it dies:
How short a time to tell our beads,
To chant our feeble Litanies,
To think sweet thoughts, to do good deeds.
The altar lights grow pale and dim,
The bells hang silent in the tower
So passes with the dying hymn
Our little hour.

---Leslie Coulson

Oh, Canada....

Okay, how bizarre is it that, despite my politics and better sensibilities, when I saw my son stand for the Canadian national anthem on his first day of school today, I got all sad and misty?