What Is the Orign of Home Again Home Again Jiggity Jig

To market, to market, to purchase a fat pig,

Home over again, home again, jiggety-jig.

To market, to market, to buy a fat hog,

Habitation again, home again, jiggety-jog.

To Ohio, to Ohio, to hold a new baby,

Dwelling house again, dwelling house again, it'southward drivin' me crazy!

Gentle Readers. The precious babe that is and then contentedly tucked in Sonia's lovely swollen abdomen did not come on his or her due date, as we had all ardently hoped. Neither did the vii or eight pounds of sugariness come on the next mean solar day . . . or the next . . . Ardently, passionately, avidly, fervently, fiercely, keenly we longed and prayed to encounter and hold that preciousness before we had to leave for abode.

Alas. Alack. We had to leave for dwelling before the event, and we are home at present, still waiting. Still jumping similar Mexican jumping beans whenever the 'phone rings or the cell' makes the "bedeep!" sound of a new text. Still trying to exist patient. Nonetheless trying to sleep at night, but not succeeding overmuch.

I remind myself that the sweet darlin' is just a week tardily, and that babies will come up two weeks before or later on the causeless due date, and that this is, of course, perfectly normal.

I remind myself that every baby I had (and I gave birth to six mewling and exquisite and satin-skinned and dewy darlings) relieve 1—and that would be Andrew, the papa of this babe–came inside a twenty-four hour period or 2 of his due engagement. Andrew came iii weeks early. And then.

I remind myself of my Dad'south comforting and rational words: "Babies come when they are prepare to come, not a moment sooner."

I remind myself that there are scores—if not hundreds–of good folks praying constantly for this precious new one and his parents. Probably for the states, too. Nosotros are probably enjoying the blessings of those prayers, being under the umbrella of "family unit." (And thanks, folks.)

But all those intensely-conjured eye reminders didn't terminate me from bawling similar a baby (ironically) for a long fourth dimension subsequently we drove away. I was driving, and Amalia kept patting my shoulder and offering to drive. "Mom . . . don't you want me to drive? Are you going to be okay?" Oh, but I was aching to concord that new precious babe in my artillery before we left the state. I was pining to run into Anya hold her new infant sister or brother. To run into the wait of joy and relief on the kids' faces. To wrestle my co-grandma, Jamie, for first holding rights (just joking, Jamie: I would have permit you accept the first turn at holding. I would accept been patient. I would have tried to exist patient, at least. I think.)

Eliza is smiling and then broadly in this picture, because she is planning to whup upwards on the game designer on this day.

We put off our departure as long as we could. We perhaps could have waited ane more than day, only then we would take had to take the whole trip in one solar day instead of two–quite possible, only so exhausting I didn't desire to try it. I do know my limits (somewhat) and I figured that it would be folly, afterwards a week of non sleeping very soundly ("I merely heard something upstairs—is that somebody rushing to the 'phone?" etc.) to endeavor to make the xiv+ hour trip in just one day. Peculiarly since with Amalia and Mack and me traveling together, a 14+ hour trip actually could terminal 3 weeks.

We stop for everything, ya'all. We could be called the Explorers of Whimsy.

Except: let the record bear witness, though we desire to explore it every–stinkin'–time, we've never stopped to see the home of the Duke, John Wayne, in Winterset, Iowa. Side by side time, kids. I promise. 🙂 I accept selfish reasons for wanting to terminate there. My ain Grandpa Young looked a whole lot like the Duke, and he grew upwardly in Winterset, Iowa, besides. So that must mean–right?--that he and the Duke were shirt-tail cousins. Also at that place's this: the Knuckles's dad was a pharmacist. And: my Dad is a pharmacist! What more proof does anybody need that John Wayne was my cousin?

And . . . past the way . . . if yous'd like to read more about that fabulous admirer, check out this commodity. It's excellent, and there are many more stories almost brave men who made a difference on the same website, as well.

And besides . . . that's such a better story than who the actual famous people are, that I'm related to. Trust me. And no, I'thou not going to tell you. 🙁 Then don't tease me. (Non even you, Gene . . .)

We exit for our New Zealand trip in *gulp!* iii days. I have major butterflies in my stomach about this. I have bills to pay, seeds to plant, calls to brand, the fridge to clean out (*running screaming out across the back forty*) and major packing to do. We went to New Zealand the first time five years ago, and that time nosotros started packing several months beforehand! I'one thousand non sure if it's a really dainty sign of my maturity and fantastic chillness that I'm not freaking out this time, or if it just shows that I'm losing my heed.

Merely no matter. Easy come, easy go. harhar

There are Wal-Marts in New Zealand, correct, if nosotros forget anything . . .? Well . . . maybe not.

We fabricated and then many superb memories while we were at Andrew and Sonia'due south house. They live in a very big house, so we could spread out when we needed to and get infinite and rest. There was nearly ever somebody to play a game with, or to sit downwardly and draw with, or to read a few books to. In that location was lots of snow exterior to play in. With my co-grandma and my daughter-in-law Sonia being such superb cooks, I could just lie dorsum in the chaise lounge and laze nigh every day until the dinner bell rang. I gained, like, twenty pounds! (joking) Beyond the usual cooking and cleaning upwards, at that place wasn't a crush of work to do every day (contrary to someplace else that I know . . . and . . . love .  . *cough*) 🙂

It was lovely.

So, since I haven't started packing yet and I should really exercise that, I'll terminate yakking and attach a few photos, which will do my yakkin' for me. I love ya, Gentle Readers, I do. So savour the pictures, and I'll see ya side by side fourth dimension. 🙂

Anya named this petty gray squirrel "Blurk." Or "Blerk." Certainly Not Richard, which is what Mack called him, contrary fella (Mack, non Blurk/Blerk).

Nosotros watched this fellow every solar day, getting the nerve up . . .

. . . getting carefully into position . . .

. . . and making his move!

Snacktime, baby!

I love this boy. He's a piddling nutty. And I love him.

This was my little castle that I built, and and so which sagged and leaned precipitously the next day, but didn't fall!! (My Frigidaire Flair is that piddling box-shaped thing to the right, and it is full of snow cookies that Anee and I made. 🙂

I tried to tuck this niggling sweetie into my pocket and bring her dwelling house with me. Merely no.

🙂

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