Jean's inner child (I mean Bumpy) seems to be turning. Several times today Jean came running into the study to proclaim that the baby-to-be was horizontal in her tummy: it seemed like the head was bumping against her right side, while the feet were moving against her left ribs. Since we're in week 32, baby is due to be placing her tray table in the upright, locked position and moving her head downwards. This would be a good thing.
One of our library of pregnancy books, Conception, Pregnancy and Birth (Dr. Miriam Stoppard, Dorling Kindersley, London, 1993), states "30% of babies are breech at 30 weeks. More than half will turn around spontaneously during the next two weeks." So today is at least the beginning of that expected spontaneous move. Unfortunately this is the first time in a while that Jean's felt any pain in the pregnancy. Her ribs (or the area around them) are a little tender tonight, and it looks like we're in for eight weeks of rib tickling. Nothing seriously painful yet, but eight weeks might become annoying.
A follow-up on yesterday's Pampers question: Premium Pampers are for babies with sensitive skin. They have aloe in them somewhere, and are even more absorbent than their plain old Pampers counterpart. There are regular Pampers for infants (with a notch out around the waistline so the umbilical stump doesn't get irritated), but there aren't any Premium Pampers for infants (you have to start at ten pounds). Also (a separate follow up from yesterday), Jean informs me that we saw The Truman Show in July, which was not the Fall. We get out less often than I think we do.
Today was my organization day. While I didn't approach the mountain of things I need to read, I've surveyed the lay of the land and know where I'm heading. My first priority tomorrow will be preparing for the WebTech meeting at eleven. WebTech is one of my easier responsibilities: five web enthusiasts from Information Services discuss web trends and work to implement new technologies for academic and administrative use.
Jean's working a half day on Thursday and is taking Friday off, so I'm taking both Thursday and Friday off. I've got almost thirty days of vacation right now, some of which is due to be revoked (the University takes away excess vacation time in an effort to encourage people to take their vacation). I'm not big on vacation. It's nice, but I rarely feel like I need it (I am planning to take several weeks off when Bumpy arrives). Work is fun, and fun for me often looks like work to others. At any rate, I've got just three days in the office this week (I realized this just as I finished ironing six shirts for work).
I do need to take a little time off to bring my Milton site up to speed. Virginia Tech removed a bunch of e-texts and I'm starting to get mail asking where I put them. I also want to continue recording the Paradise Lost arguments, which are a prelude to recording the poem itself.
Paradise Lost is amazing to hear. I've heard it twice now, once when taking the graduate Milton course, and another time just for fun. There are about ten students taking the Milton course when it is offered (once every other year). The class gets together around 8:30 in the morning on a Saturday. By nine everyone has had something to eat and the reading begins. Each participant reads between ten and twenty lines before the next person continues. The poem is close to 12,000 lines (about 1,000 lines a book), and there are extended breaks after every two books. During Book IX, an apple is passed around in the circle, and whoever reads the lines where Eve tastes the fruit takes a bite out of the apple. Same thing a little bit later when Adam eats. The whole thing lasts into the night, with the poem finishing around 8:30 or 9:00 at night. It's a powerful experience. Milton was blind when he composed the poem (he dictated the poem each morning to his daughter or a scribe), and I believe the poem was meant to be heard, not silently read. By the time the poem is finished, with Adam and Eve leaving the garden hand in hand, everyone who has experienced the poem is moved.
I'm hoping that putting an audio version of the poem on the web will make the poem more interesting to those daunted by the length of the text, but also to those who have not heard the poem before. I know it will take years to record (and I'm sure I'll want to go back and re-record things as I get better at reading), but it should be fun.
We turned on the air conditioner today. It wasn't warm, it was
hot. Jean spent a good part of the afternoon out back, knitting a
hat for Bumpy. After a while I joined her, clearing some leaves
from our hammock. Neon, it turns out, is fascinated by leaves,
specifically any leaf I have in my hand. I would wait for a breeze
to pick up then release the leaf into the air. Neon would twist and
jump in the air to try to catch the leaf, but invariably it would
fall to the ground in the middle of other leaves, and then he would
sniff playfully at the mass of leaves to try and find the one that
had been in my hand.
reading: The Hobbit (J.R.R. Tolkien)
visiting: On Display
© 1998 Kevin J.T. Creamer