The monsoon has stopped, but we are still wet.

This little guy came to visit us the other day, landing on my friend's skirt, and then flitting over to this curtain, where he posed nicely for me. He's not so little, though. His wing span was almost as long as my hand.

I have sick kids. They're not too bad, but the weather has changed again and it seems that when the weather changes, flu comes. At least that's what Jaya told me. But she also told me that snails are poisonous and I shouldn't let YaYa play with them. (Not true.) Anyways, whatever the reason, the poor Superstar Husband and the three older kids are sick. They don't let it bother them all that much. They're just a little more clingy and they don't want to eat.

YaYa woke up last night to go to the bathroom. Let me say that again. YaYa woke up out of her sleep all by her ownself to go to the bathroom last night. Except she did come to get me. But she WOKE UP. This has never happened. I remember bragging about what a good sleeper she was, back when she was a small toddler, and how someone said dolefully, "Those are the kids who have problems with bedwetting," (imagine Eeyore's voice) and how I thought, Well gee, Puddleglum, thanks for bursting my bubble. But then he was right.

I blame Haight St. I blame the room over the street and the room over the alley where we lived when she was a baby, next to Amoeba Records on Haight and Stanyan, where everything sounded as though hundreds of people were yelling outside at all hours of the night, and where the bouncer kicked everyone out of the club across the street at 2:30 every night and then stood on the street yelling, "Go, GO, GO" in a booming voice to get them to disperse, presumably so they wouldn't bother the neighbors. (!) Where she had to learn to sleep like a sleepy sloth just for self-preservation.

I think this "waking up" speaks well of days ahead, although I am only tentatively thinking this.

Of course, Leafy took his turn and wet the bed last night (he doesn't usually) and the baby of course was soaking in his cloth diapers, but two out of four isn't bad, right?! Right.

Let's just look at that moth again. Mmmmmm. Pretty.

(New post on making chapatti on Fly Fishes Fly!)