Friday, September 19, 2008


There’s a little flipper growing inside me, a tadpole/glow-worm, baby in its womb-room.
At just over thirteen weeks Skipper Chris and Sailor Lil can let the world know that we’re happily breeding a little sprog!

It’s been rough water and weather and times to get to this point, now its all adventures ahead. Already I can see the skipper’s stamp in the little pixel-face shown in an ultrasound pic.
There, the forehead’s bump of music, there the little tucked in chin and there the Negroid full-mouth.
You’d have to see it to believe it. Look right!

Sprog responds well to chics singing- particularly Scout Niblett. Sprog likes it when I drum along and lets me know with a warm hormonal glow. Sprog likes strawberries with ice-cream, dry ginger ale, olives, and cheese with chutney on rivitas.

In the morning, I get a rush of love I cal the ‘benigns’. Because they happen before 9am we now call them the B9’s.
Skipper can feel the B9s kind of fogging up the air around me. He gets closer so he can have his fix of the hormone cloud.

Skip thought he might have to learn nursery rhymes, but I said his versions of Nick Cave will do just fine. He has a deep voice and sings ‘the ship song’ and ‘the weeping song’ really well.

Sailor Lil likes to sing good old cautionary deep south blues and gospel. Sprog will learn about rambling men, and dice, and houses of ill repute!

This is fun. This is my time, our time, after so much grief and loss to get here.This is where my crew of two sees the first pale glimmer of dawn on the horizon.