breaded

How battered, so to speak, can one be, that when hope shows up, one is distrusting appearance even more?

What way of conduct is that when one plays "this is what it has always been", thinks "how long before it strikes again", and yet hopes "this is the day when everything finally comes together"?

How to keep to hope, be prepared for the cinical prediction, and yet be serene?

Is someone going to have a certain physiological thing in a few days time?

tragedy

Tonight, there's been an explosion at the NICU of one of the maternity clinics here. Three newborns dead, four with 70-80% of the skin burnt, four with "only" 30 to 50%. They have trouble identifying the babies; the bracelets are also burnt.

God bless them!

http://www.romanialibera.ro/actualitate/eveniment/incendiu-la-maternitatea-giulesti-3-bebelusi-au-murit-8-sunt-raniti-grav-196648.html

ETA: One week later; one of the babies died the following night, and another one a few nights later. There are six left to fight out of the eleven that were in the NICU at the time of the fire. All of them prematures, ranging from two pounds to five pounds. Two sets of twins, two boys and then a boy and a girl. The clinic is a national center for medically assisted human reproduction. Search for Adriana Iliescu.

They showed on TV a lot of things. The most striking one for me was a new father loading not a carseat in the backseat, but a tiny coffin he was holding under his arm, like a newspaper, in the carboot.

The sand merchant

I haven't found what I was looking for, but I found something else.

See, every now and then this shell I'm living in is giving me some threats. One way or another, it says "You, up there, slow down or else!" And I shudder and think "What else?". Well, of course, the pump.

So I'm facing some boring procedures, one sometime this autumn, the other one in the spring. What I like the most about the second one is that it's some sort of plastic surgery, thank you very much. Plastic surgery, my dear, she will be naive again!

Otherwise, not much. I'm sanding the rails of the crib to build some nightstands. I've got help!

I can't hear you

Let's say someone makes a comitment. And it involves someone else. And let's say the first person, X, is sticking through sun and snow to the comitment. And so does the other one, Y. And they are both honest, hard working people, the kind that radiates good energy, shine and laughter.

Only Y is sometimes taking a break. Nothing that would set X free of the contract, just breaks where Y acts as there are only singing birds in the clear blue sky. And in doing so, Y loses something, let's say money.

And, just to continue the plot, let us imagine it happens two to six times a year, for ten or more years. In this time, some good fortune is lost. And, to add some spice, imagine X and Y are taking care of some people all this time. And these people, the third party, are those who lose the most out of the breaks Y takes.

If anyone is reading, and if out of those imaginary readers there are some who have been through something similar or just have enough imagination to keep all the parties involved in mind, what would this/those people say to X, to Y, to the third party? What did/would they do?

Of course this is just an imaginary situation.

Teenage?

I have too many things boiling on the stove. I'm going to spill one by one.



Let's start with a good one.

At the beginning I wanted a child. So much so, I was bursting with love to be given. I was at the right age. For the first time, I was in the right place to fulfill a dream; the dream concluded with the perfect boy. Luscious lips, blond hair, green eyes (well, later), hold his head from birth (he was breech). Because of breech, overgestation and estimated weight I had a cesarean section, but, anyway, by week 36 I was so terified by pain, I didn't care. Only recently, like, in the last 5-6 years, the epidural appeared in these places. So, all right.



Nutrition was good for him, he was putting on 3 pounds and two inches every month for the first six months. Colics, yes, terrible, but that passed. First tooth at three months. He sit at 4 months, took his first step at 8 and a half months. Brilliant, brilliant boy. Bilingual by birth, he's sitting his Cambridge English paper in two weeks. Fluent in German also. He had national evaluation in the winter, and he came first in his class, first in his school, first in every French school abroad, and first in every french scool, inboard or abroad.



He's carrying groceries for me, babysits his sister, eases conflicts in the household. Yes, he's real.



He's tossing phrases by Voltaire in common conversations. He has perfect legs. Yeah, he's running like a girl, but in the run for Haiti, a month ago, he came second. He's been hopelessly in love with the same girl for the last four years.



He's brushing difficult times. "Nobody, never, ever understands me!"



He's, so commonly said, a beam of light.


He's eleven today.

Youngest son. Upper left corner. Please, help!

(photo removed)

GENETIC NERD

I must have done something weird. K. is away until tomorrow, so S. is taking full advantage of favours. Which translates into him spending every single minute searching the web for information about aircraft.

And this is more like a tweet than a post. But I'll post, and I'll be back soon!