tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-210855102010-04-29T10:04:41.837+12:00Thinking with my handsUntitled txts sent from my phone to a later me and longer bits of thinking written more with you in mind.
Sequel at <a href="http://susanharper.blogspot.com/">http://susanharper.blogspot.com/</a>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.comBlogger641125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-57377540956513392622010-04-29T09:56:00.005+12:002010-04-29T10:01:33.059+12:00Moving.I am posting to <a href="http://susanharper.blogspot.com/">http://susanharper.blogspot.com/</a> now. <div><br /></div><div>I am leaving these 4 and a bit years of posts here. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5737754095651339262?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-54144730836390496822010-04-18T00:03:00.003+12:002010-04-18T00:07:11.897+12:00End of Blogger FTP<div>On May 1st Blogger will stop publishing blogs by FTP. I could migrate to <a href="http://susanharper.blogspot.com/">http://susanharper.blogspot.com/</a> but I don't think I will. I think I'll leave these four years here, and if I get the urge to post in the future I'll start somewhat anew over there. If there are any good reasons for me doing otherwise, do comment. </div><div><br /></div><div>Ta, </div><div>s</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5414473083639049682?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-22246326564196925632010-04-17T23:48:00.002+12:002010-04-17T23:59:31.790+12:00Chickpea died.Chickpea has been part of our family since Iris opened a wrapped box with holes in it on Christmas Day and found two rabbits inside.<p>Chickpea was a neutered female, and she and Iggy Hop mostly got on very well, with occasional spats. I suspect they fought because it just is hard to keep on getting on with the members of your household, and because as Chickpea got bigger she thought that perhaps it was<br />time she was the dominant bunny, but Iggy was happier with the status quo.</p><p>Chickpea was incredibly soft of fur and a beautiful golden fawn, but fierce. She didn't like being picked up and she would grunt to remind anyone who tried, but she liked us to feed her treats out of our hands. She climbed the hedge to eat the lemon tree, she snatched food from Iggy and ran off with it, and she taught me a lot about rabbits. Having two rabbits has meant that we are able to see differences between them: Chickpea was a foodie, she liked to try new tastes and passionately ate her favourite things first.</p><p>She died suddenly. Yesterday at breakfast she was balancing on her hind legs, eating treats and pawing at Sean's dressing gown. Sometime in the middle of the morning she was in one of her ordinary spots under the hedge. After lunch she didn't come hopping to greet me and<br />ask for treats when I came out the door, I found her hunched in her hutch. Her nose woffle was slow, so I opened the hutch roof and got her out. I knew something was wrong when she didn't object. Hazel, Iris, and I checked her all over for injuries and we didn't find any, her tummy was soft, but she was obviously sick because she really didn't seem to mind, no freaked staring or anything. The vet had an appointment for 4:20. I put her in the bedroom of the hutch and closed<br />the door for quarantine. Iggy hopped about the garden. At about 2:20 I was about to take Hazel to Circus School so I went to see how Chickpea was, she was lying on her side, as if happy, comfortable and at ease but she was utterly still. I picked her up and she was still warm so I listened to her chest, but her heart was silent.</p><p>Crying, I brought her in to the children. They took turns holding her and we came to believe in her death. Hazel rang Sean, he said "I will be home as soon as possible" and was. I took Hazel to circus school, she was only a little late and went in with the hope it would be very interesting so she could concentrate completely on it.</p><p>"At least," Hazel said, "it wasn't Moab, because we only have one cat and we have two bunnies."<br />I agreed, but warned her not to say that to her grieving sister.</p><p>I came home again and took Iggy to Chickpea's appointment, to see if he seemed well to an expert observer. We talked about Chickpea's death, but no conclusions were reached. I had Chickpea in the car just in case the vet wanted to check any hypotheses, but Iris didn't want<br />an autopsy and Iggy did seem well.</p><p>When I came home I asked Iris "How are you?"<br />"Sad, but a bit calmer since Daddy came straight home from work and<br />was really nice to me and gave me everything I wanted."</p><p>After dinner I asked again and she said<br />"A bit sad, but not hurt, not in pain like I fell over," and we scheduled Chickpea's funeral for 11am.</p><p>We didn't let Iggy back into the hutch but instead he stayed the night in the grand new bathroom. He seemed to quite like it. This morning Iris went in to check on him, alone as it happened. Afterwards she said<br />"At first when I opened the door I couldn't see him and I thought he might be dead too, and he was quite still in the box, so I thought he might be going-to-die like Chickpea was, but he came out for some treats and was normal, so I was happy."</p><p>Later Iris said she was<br />"Sad about Chickpea, but I'm not crying anymore whenever I think about her"</p><p>This morning we hit our main water pipe while digging the grave in our funereal finery. Water fountained out baptising the concrete rabbit we had ready for the headstone, but missing the dead rabbit lying in state in the beautiful wrapped box she originally came in and her<br />floral offerings. The funeral was delayed while we rang the plumber. At the funeral we said some things, stroked her soft fur, and put her back in her box. We placed flowers all around her and went out to lunch somewhere where the water was on. The interment was after the plumber dug the hole a little deeper, fixed the pipe, and told me he didn't think he'd be needing that hole again until she was long gone. More flowers, a few more words, Hazel and Iris filled in the hole, and positioned the concrete rabbit and more flowers. The finished grave is rather lovely.</p><p>Sean and the children had horse-riding to learn, so I spent all afternoon at home disinfecting and cleaning the hutch for Iggy, who would sit still enough that I'd want to give him a treat to check he was okay and not about to die too. I'd get a treat and go to him, but he would run and hide. "Running is good" I would think, sadly, and I'd go back to my services for the unappreciative rabbit. I thought he hated the smell of the cleaners I was using and so I washed my hands in his pee and then in plain water. After that he allowed himself to eat a treat I'd given him, but only if I put it on the ground and retreated. So I think he feels I am culpable because I was the one who<br />found her, who took him to the vet with Chickpea dead in the car, and who was trying to clean their hutch of all traces of their shared life. I was cheered when he started grooming himself (Chickpea mostly groomed Iggy and Iggy occasionally gave her a bit of a lick too).</p><p>I hope Iggy forgets this theory by tomorrow, surely he's not alone in his hutch plotting revenge and bearing a grudge. I also hope it will all help with Iris's fear of death, as it was so surprising that there was no time to dread it, and afterwards there's been kindness, compassion, flowers, funerals and cards.</p><p>Goodbye Chickpea, I will not forget you. You jumped in pure joy, and when you flopped down in the backyard the whole household was at peace.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-2224632656419692563?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-42115436208068139352010-03-09T11:55:00.002+13:002010-03-09T12:05:44.860+13:00It's 2010.Things I didn't think we'd (still) have in this, the Space Age: <div><ul><li>3D glasses</li><li>Analogue watches</li><li>Wool underwear</li><li>Sunhats</li><li>Knickerbockers</li><li>Keys</li><li>Corsetry</li><li>Punks</li><li>Cancer and co. </li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div>Things I didn't expect</div><div><ul><li>The web</li><li>Maori renaissance</li><li>Computers for preschoolers</li><li>No USSR</li><li>Bread machines, rice cookers, pasta makers, fruit dryers, popcorn makers...</li><li>The Urban Chook Fad</li><li>No monorail</li></ul></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-4211543620806813935?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-84354362844620096932010-02-28T21:48:00.003+13:002010-02-28T22:29:46.243+13:00Things I am up to.Helping with PMP, reading, and shelving at school. Starting a Human Biology course, getting on with the rabbits, a lot of washing, some bicycling.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-8435436284462009693?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-17082787221391124242010-02-14T19:48:00.002+13:002010-02-14T19:50:57.272+13:00Optional extras.By the way, you can see the <a href="http://groverinwelly.blogspot.com/2010/02/kapiti-island-trip.html">girls and me in photos by Shannon)</a>.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-1708278722139112424?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-89646115035625501852010-02-14T17:49:00.005+13:002010-02-14T19:51:50.039+13:00On the joys of having bunnies in the family.<ul><li>When we let the rabbits out of the hutch they binky about the garden, this move is a pure and infectious expression of joy. </li><li>Herbivores chomping away in the borders makes the cat and me feel at peace</li><ol><li>If they are at peace then there are no threats to big tough us. </li><li>Our hunting-ground is happily full. </li></ol></ul><div><div><ul><li>The cat also likes that they always cede him the higher ground, they seem to appreciate that he always cedes them the choice spots under things. </li><li>They show evidence of becoming happier to be held. </li><li>Rabbit poo is like goat poo; "almost appealing".*</li><div><br /></div></ul></div><div>--</div><div>* Holzwarth, Werner, <cite>The Story of the Little Mole who knew it was None of his Business</cite>, (Chrysalis Children's Books) 1994. </div><div><br /></div>Pet rabbit links:<br /><br />Kids and Rabbits <a href="http://www.rabbit.org/kids/">http://www.rabbit.org/kids/</a><br />my favourite introductory text <a href="http://www.sandiegorabbits.org/adoption/colorbook.pdf">http://www.sandiegorabbits.org/adoption/colorbook.pdf</a><br /><br />I needed to know rabbits can show joy before I would consider living with them and this vid did it for me <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1HkKN3Yl1o">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M1HkKN3Yl1o</a><br />There's a whole lot more communication stuff out there, my favourite is <a href="http://language.rabbitspeak.com/rabbittalk_intro.html">http://language.rabbitspeak.com/rabbittalk_intro.html</a><br /><br />Sean found this article quite winning <a href="http://hubpages.com/hub/Yes--Your-Rabbit-Hates-You-How-To-Be-Friends-With-Your-Bunny">http://hubpages.com/hub/Yes--Your-Rabbit-Hates-You-How-To-Be-Friends-With-Your-Bunny</a><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-8964611503562550185?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-49103994297432771492010-01-28T09:45:00.003+13:002010-01-28T09:50:02.542+13:00Too busy living.I've not written because I've been enjoying the summer holidays. Hanging out with Hazel and Iris, Moab and Iris's rabbits Chickpea and Iggy Hop. It's been lovely, better get back to it as they'll be at school again in a week.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-4910399429743277149?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-9160797502122132532009-11-25T11:55:00.004+13:002009-11-25T12:16:50.800+13:00No, no! One of a kind!We had got out the door(!) and were about to walk down to the local cafe for brunch. Hazel spied the garage and suddenly wanted to scoot her scooter instead of walking. She needed to go back for scooting shoes, I was hungry, gave her the key and suggested she go and get the right shoes on and catch us up. Hazel wanted an adult to come with her to help find and put on the shoes, Sean went with her so to do. I suggested to Iris that we start walking, she was unwilling. I explained that they would catch us up, because they would be fast. Iris pointed out a rose with sunset coloured petals. We looked at the rose. Iris pointed out a soldier fly with black patches on its wings, we looked at the soldier fly. Iris asked why the leaves of our sycamore are much paler green than the leaves of the oak, I thought aloud about possible answers. Iris gazed thoughtfully at the sycamore and the oak. Iris heard movement at the house and informed me that they were coming, and we could wait for them. We waited. Hazel got her scooter and scooted off, zooming past us. <div><br /></div><div>"Iris, Hazel is very fast on her scooter, that's why I wanted to start walking and said they would catch us up." </div><div>"Me wongked Hazel go firsk; me evil denius." </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-916079750212213253?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-54064149720621124092009-11-03T10:03:00.000+13:002009-11-03T10:04:16.446+13:00I really miss being able to <a href="http://susan.sean.geek.nz/2008_09_01_archive.html">text my blog</a> from my phone.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5406414972062112409?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-84851052930132400052009-10-23T11:53:00.002+13:002009-10-23T12:09:39.730+13:00Spring is springing, good luck to it.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-8485105293013240005?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-81919978664226786472009-09-21T23:06:00.001+12:002009-09-21T23:06:14.749+12:00One of a kind, oh yeah.Iris told Hazel and me that at the school talent show tomorrow she's going to sing a song she composed for the occasion: <div><br><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> One of a kind, one of a kind, </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> I think I'd really like to be </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> One of a kind, one of a kind, </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> I think I'd really love to be </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> One of a kind, one of a kind, </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> I think it would be nice to be </blockquote><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0.8ex; border-left-width: 1px; border-left-color: rgb(204, 204, 204); border-left-style: solid; padding-left: 1ex; "> One of a kind, one of a kind ...</blockquote><div><br></div><div>Hazel said "Oh, Iris! You <i>are </i>one of a kind; the best kind there is!" </div><div><br></div><div>I hope I'll be able to see it, but I was booked two weeks ago for lunch with my parents and visiting aunt and uncle from England so <a href="http://thefloydfiles.blogspot.com/">Mary, Orla, and Ewan</a> will be there to cheer her on even if I come over the dutiful daughter and niece rather than the proud mother, and Hazel promised that she would be there too. </div> <div><br></div><div><br></div></div> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-8191997866422678647?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-12915441034880181422009-08-21T20:38:00.003+12:002009-08-21T20:46:07.737+12:00This little pig downloads old books.Soon the internet will read me to sleep with Wind In The Willows. It's such a dear.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-1291544103488018142?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-13988886420466992412009-08-21T20:08:00.003+12:002009-08-21T20:17:42.146+12:00This little pig stays home.Iris diagnosed with influenza, probably swine flu, this morning, Dr says Hazel probably has it too. This afternoon I went to sleep in the middle of a paragraph I was reading to Hazel, awoke to her telling me I was hot and when she took my temperature it was 38.5 (102ish). I'm such a joining-in kind of person.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-1398888642046699241?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-52125582860545906052009-08-18T22:04:00.008+12:002009-08-18T22:44:19.996+12:00Illiterate bookwormsHazel and Iris have had fevers this week. Iris has watched movies (of books mostly; Winnie the Pooh, Narnia and Beatrix Potter come to mind). Hazel has been listening to books online, perhaps because she enjoyed some parts of <a href="http://www.radionz.co.nz/concert/programmes/appointment/thestars">The Stars are Comforting</a> on the Concert Programme on the way home from Ultimate last week.<br /><br />Hazel has listened to all the <a href="http://www.radionz.co.nz/search?mode=results&queries_all_query=storytime">stories on the Radio New Zealand site that we could find</a> (a bit difficult since the actual link to the Storytime Treasure Chest is broken at the moment). She watched and listened to all the Screen Actors' Guild people reading books at <a href="http://www.storylineonline.net/">Storyline Online</a>, it was felt that Sean Astin did as good a job as I do of <i>A Bad Case Of Stripes</i>, and that I could learn from his use of props. She has been listening to <a href="http://storynory.com/">Storynory</a> stories since, and creating her own illustrations (perhaps she's feeling a bit better, though she's certainly feeling a bit hotter). <div><br /></div><div>I've also found <a href="http://www.kiddierecords.com/">http://www.kiddierecords.com/</a> and <a href="http://www.free-books.org/children.php">http://www.free-books.org/children.php</a> and a whole lot more promising things appear with Googling for things like "free audiobooks children online".<br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Me, I like listening to <i><a href="http://librivox.org/the-wind-in-the-willows-by-kenneth-grahame/">The Wind in the Willows</a></i> when I'm ill, and I still have my records of it, but I haven't yet got the USB turntable so that I can take it with me on my phone to listen to when waiting for things. However, it occurs to me that I could turn the recorder on my phone on when I'm reading to the kids and I'd get audiobooks of all their favourites: audience participation and all! </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5212558286054590605?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-40989391885722158542009-07-31T09:16:00.001+12:002009-07-31T09:22:35.712+12:00Got a new phone, haven't worked out how to text here from it yet. Had a nice time in Thailand.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-4098939188572215854?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-4601783431845808042009-07-28T00:23:00.001+12:002009-07-28T00:23:10.325+12:00It's all very well <a href="http://www.worldhum.com/features/how-to/use_a_squat_toilet_20060923/">in theory</a>, but not being very good at talking or going to the toilet is a humbling experience. The holiday in Thailand was great. <br> <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-460178343184580804?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-59047031029955572492009-06-29T10:21:00.000+12:002009-06-29T10:53:33.814+12:00Interesting- recycle 7 is made from plants. Does it compost I wonder.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5904703102995557249?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-58357169003543935232009-06-25T08:08:00.000+12:002009-06-25T08:41:18.031+12:00We are not late.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-5835716900354393523?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-70235194045915816902009-06-24T20:14:00.000+12:002009-06-24T20:47:22.794+12:00Hazel's turn to do the week's current event, she chose the death of Neda Agha-Soltani.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-7023519404591581690?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-20806110881740299952009-06-24T20:04:00.000+12:002009-06-24T20:36:38.141+12:00My new dental applianthe will help no end with Tem'th lithp!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-2080611088174029995?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-77525557789745150742009-06-22T17:26:00.000+12:002009-06-22T17:59:02.062+12:00Dear Tooth-Fairy, I hope you want my tooth even though I am old and it is brown and black and yellow and red. Love, Susan<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-7752555778974515074?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-79617187873387192472009-06-20T10:00:00.000+12:002009-06-20T10:33:15.179+12:00Sean has the car, Hazel plans to swing through the trees like Verreaux's sifaka when we go out. Think she's feeling better.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-7961718787338719247?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-14718149280307707542009-06-18T08:05:00.000+12:002009-06-18T08:37:52.994+12:00Hazel hibernating with plan to be well enough to make bread at school tomorrow. Iris boinging about.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-1471814928030770754?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-21085510.post-4633850269838724912009-06-15T18:41:00.000+12:002009-06-15T19:15:34.751+12:00Kids still floppy, Hazel cough sounding wet, she's going to Dr tomorrow. Glad I don't have a job.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/21085510-463385026983872491?l=susan.sean.geek.nz%2Findex.html' alt='' /></div>Susan Harperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13871657814084907914noreply@blogger.com0