"The South Land," by T.S. Eliot

Nam Maddam La Crescentis ipse oculis meis vidi, et cum dixi, τί Θέλεις; respondebat illa: εσΘιειν Θελω.

February is the cruelest month, blowing
everything everywhere, mixing
short days and chilliness, bothering
Maddie Mei with too much rain.

In the San Gabriel mountains, there you feel free.
I play with trains, much of my naptime, and watch Dora when I wake.

I will show you fear in a handful of juice.
Those are jellybeans that were his eyes.

And mama and daddy saying,
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME

So rudely forc'd!
What you get married for if you don't want children?
O ces voix d'enfants!

I Madster have foresuffered all.
Maddih Maddih Maddih(1)

____________________________________________


(1) -- Maddih. Repeated as here, a formal ending to a blog posting. 'The Uproar which passeth understanding' is a feeble translation of the conduct of this word.

Free fallin'

Our seemingly interminable week of rain* finally ended, and so we headed to Millard Canyon to hike -- certainly the most serious mountain climbing I've ever done.


... and the payoff at the end:


Mostly, though, I was my usual subdued, contemplative self:**


--Maddie

* -- If Mom and Dad stay here long enough, eventually I will probably start saying things like this with a straight face.

** -- It will probably never be possible to say this with a straight face.

Blast from the past

It's easy to forget that I have always been this cute...

Perspective

As you can tell (again) from the last post, my parents think I'm pretty d*** special. But at least they're not pompous enough to give me my own gallery show for my art.

Giant Madster, redux

Almost three years old, almost 40 inches tall.

I had lunch with daddy at his work today. Someone who met us in the hall said, "I have a son about her age. He'll be five soon."