fledge capable of flying, from Middle English flegge, from Old English -flycge; akin to Old High German flucki capable of flying,
Old English flEogan to fly -- more at FLY
intransitive verb, of a young bird : to acquire the feathers necessary for flight or independent activity

Friday, July 31, 2009

Go! Jack! Go!

It's your turn. It's your time.
The goals are simple. The goals are hard.
You're strong and smart.
And you might stumble.
But you don't fall.
You've got some good tricks.
You bounce right back.
And you're gone much too quickly, son.

I love you, child, every second of your life. Every sixtieth of a second, in this case.

A little mommy love via the Lifeguard Taplin Relay.

Thursday, July 23, 2009


Wouldn't be summer without some images like this. Hard to meter the light so late in the day. Must try again.

THANK YOU for your kind wishes. I believe they really work wonders.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Okay, we'd better go to the Emergency Room.

Without fail, anytime one of my children becomes a little too ill for my comfort, it's between 5:00 pm Friday evening and midnight on Sunday. The viruses that visit our home do not keep doctors' office hours.

And this weekend was no different. Sunday evening at around 8 pm, her temperature would not go below 103ºF (39.5ºC), but more than that, her breathing was very, very rapid and shallow and her heart was beating like she was running a marathon.

Okay, pack her up: I'm going to the ER.

Good thing, too. Her blood oxygen levels were pretty low.

After a hospital stay of two nights, she's back and doing much, much better. And antagonizing and teasing her brother to no end. Yep, she's pretty much back to her old self. Welcome home, babe.

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Summer Hollywood Style

What is Hollywood? It's more of an idea of a place than an actual geographic place. Maybe that's part of its appeal, part of its tragedy. Although there is the town of West Hollywood, which is geographically close enough to the idea, equal parts glamour and grit, and the name fits, so go with it. And what is Hollywood Forever? Well, it is, to be sure, an oxymoron, because Hollywood Forever is a cemetery. Nothing lasts forever. But the place is hardly for the dead. Not on a warm breezey evening in July. Thousands of picnic blankets are spread in the shadow of the Paramount lots and mausoleums. After a bit of wine, chicken, guacamole, fresh bread and a sunset sky behind the palm trees shared with friends, The Bride of Frankenstein is screened on the wall.

As the monster would say, "Good. Goooood. Friend. Good."

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

He sorta hates it. Sorta loves it.

It's a journey thing.

And very good for him.

A day in Junior Lifeguards ain't easy.

But it ain't not fun, neither.

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Just one smile?

No? Love you anyway, babe.


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