The Rod Did It

Forgive me blog, for I have sinned. It's been over a month since my last post.

In that month, a lot has happened. While it was happening, I couldn't seem to find the time nor the inclination to blog about it. Now that it's over, finding any give-a-shit has been even harder. I'll summarize, if I may.

Our Polish Christmas Eve was wonderful, and would have been even better if we didn't have to be the first to leave because Peanut couldn't go to sleep at Dziadziu's noisy house, and we had to go home so she could sleep. Babies are like that; they're cute, but then they go and spoil the plans you had for another beer. Dagnabit. We ate lots of fish and bigos, and possibly some potato. Polish fests are like that. Oh, and drank vodka of varying kinds, and which tasted like liquid dirt in varying degrees. Yummy. Even Mr Mangroves was memorably jolly on the night, and didn't really want to leave, which was an absolute shock, and has in fact been written down for posterity right here. Usually, he's the first out the door, nudging me to remind me about the time, every five minutes. This is because he finds himself the only native English speaker in the house, surrounded by jabbering Poles, all vying to be heard above the others. The noise is really something - I never realise until I watch the movie. In the past it was noted that my parents are quite likely to talk at him in Polish for several minutes, before remembering that he's NOT ONE OF THEM.

My nephews, 2008

The next most memorable thing this Xmas was my little sister (who recently ate the whitetail spider - I'm surprised they let her out of the country with that history, but who am I to complain to Kevin 747) leaving for Poland on Christmas Day. She had lots of adventures, including taking a sled out into the snow, visiting our grandparents' graves, spending lots of time with both wings of the extended family, sightseeing and shopping. Apparently, she had too much stuff to take back with her, so she made a parcel and sent it to herself. Apparently, this parcel contains gifts and the shopping she did while over there. I pray for it's safe and speedy arrival, and am hopeful it contains something for me, or else.

Fiona, 2004

Last but not least, I have had a small metal rod dug out of my left, upper arm. I would love to say that it hurt, but I got a local, so sadly, nothing to report. It was in my arm for just over six months, and I am hopeful that this tiny, unassuming contraceptive device has been responsible for my mood swings, weight gain, lack of interest in my hobbies, loss of patience with my children, the spattering of hideous acne (which I never even had while going through puberty, so this was MOST unfair) in the most unlikely places, hair loss, complete lack of sex drive and dropping a pan of freshly cooked spaghetti on the kitchen floor.

I'm being very candid here, I know. If having this rod removed doesn't fix these terrible problems, then I will have to face the awful truth; I am a moody, overweight slacker, who is a bad, spotty, clumsy mother whose hair is falling out and who doesn't put out.

Self-Portrait, 2000

I'll be having a stern talk with myself about this, you can be sure.

Oh, and here is more artwork. Enjoy, or not.