Picture, picture

Lemme set this one up. We are in London. Day 3. Natural History Museum. Earth Wing. I've been trying to get the kids in a sweet picture all day. In the background you can hear me finish saying, "...are you ready to take a picture?"Extrapolate as you wish...


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J9I5ZboTsoY

Sad Baby G

Okay, so she's not a baby any more. But she does get sad and this is her real sad face. Not a pretend, put on, mac it up for the camera face. Just a sad, sad face. She's wearing M's running hat and Bug took it and though retrieved, it took a while for her to recover.

Sugar

So, G's Auntie Zizi has a picture of her about 6 months younger than this eating out of the sugar bowl at the 868 house oh so long ago. Here, we find G red-handed, dumping out the sugar from the bag to more easily grasp a fistful.

No remorse.

Just happy to show me that indeed the sugar has gone all the way down into her tummy. London pics soon.

bumper harris

So, we're in London just now and photos to post yet. Always loads of stories, but no photos. So, here is a story that doesn't have a photo because we zoomed by too quickly to take a pic on the way up from Camden Town station near the London Zoo...

On the way up from the London Underground, we pass by an unassuming poster. Blue with white letters. It is an official poster. One of the many factoids the London Underground has posted to entertain the masses while tolerating the construction we pass by on the escalator. The poster says, 'Who is Bumper Harris?' and then it says 'Bumper Harris is the one-legged man who road the first escalator to prove it was safe.'

frogs, snails, and tiger tails...

There is something pathetic and sad about a frog thumping against the confines of one's plastic recycling box.

Bug desperately wants a pet. Auntie MaeMae and Uncle B has graciously adopted Belly Kitty as their own due to his allergies and questionable breathing around furry type things.

I touched a frog this past Tuesday. I just had to. Bug wants a pet. We can't have one. Snails and worms don't quite do the trick as they mouths and eyes and tummies easily discernable to a younger audience. And then, there was this frog thumping and thumping against the box. So I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed the frog and let Bug hold him while I found a jar. The jar happened to be glass and I knew we were doomed, but see a kid and a really wanted amphibian pet calls for jumping on the band wagon. Yes! We can build a terrarium! Yes! Yes! The frog will outlive us all eating rolly pollies and flies from our backyard -collect them! Yes! The frog would love a feather from a large dopey wood pigeon in its new home. The frog ended up with loads of junk on its head. Grass, feathers, flowers, leaves. Everything that can be plucked and picked from a backyard with small fingers. The frog was even more terrified than when we found him in the recycling bin.

So you knew that within the hour, the frog jar would come crashing down...

and the only makeshift house I could find was a Pringles' can. Bug thought it too smelly until I wanted to release the frog. Then he was just heartbroken and stumped. Thankfully M came home from work at a reasonable hour and said that all great scientists must tag and release the animals in their care. That Bug must collect more and study them more and release even more froggies into the wild. Our backyard is now littered with makeshift homes for worms, snails, and other bugs - soon to be released as well.