Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Isabel, yoga and icicles.

1. I come across the poem Isabel by Ogden Nash and read it to Alec. I think he likes her style in a scary situation because he asks for it again. I nearly have it by heart after the fourth reading.

2. I try a DVD yoga class -- just a half-hour one -- thinking that Alec might join in like all the cute pictures you see on Pinterest. He asks to nurse during the warm-up. I let him, working the movements around him. He takes a few sucks from each side and then wanders off to play (he often does this, just, I imagine, to confirm that he is still the centre of my universe). We spend the next 25 minutes in companionable aloneness (apart from one moment when he can't resist sitting on my back).

3. I show Alec the icicles where the water from a leaking gutter has run down a rose bush. The thorny stems are encased in clear clean ice. He tilts his head this way and that, marvelling but not touching.