So, my two young hawklings are BOTH doing well - the one who faltered a bit has regained his wings and is sailing along nicely. The doctors are predicting/tentatively anticipating that both boys will be ready to go home when they reach 35 weeks, which will be in a little over a week from now. I know that my daughter will be so glad to get them home and end this daily hospital routine, but of course that will bring a whole new set of challenges. won’t it? Lovely time to be joining us on this earthly plane, though, isn’t it? A time when the temperatures are (finally) starting to move upwards, buds can be seen erupting on those stark, skeletal winter tree branches, and hints of green are popping out all around us. There will be lots of opportunities to wheel the boys out in their brand new double stroller to take in the fresh air and explore this big old world of ours. I wish I could just follow them around with a camera (a Kodak throw-away, of course) and record them as they see their first butterfly and hear their first birdsong. Our whole family is so thrilled to be a part of raising twins! Of course, much as we will love helping with them and visiting with them, and later, as they start to grow into toddlers and then little children - taking them to the zoo and around about - the fact is that they are my daughter’s children, and raising them is going to be her life work, so to speak. I find that I regularly think about the fact that I have essentially been there and done that, and that my role is very different, now. And it’s a little bittersweet, to tell the truth, but of course I wouldn’t really WANT to be raising babies again at my age. It’s just that the years go by so quickly - and then you look back in amazement, wondering how it all slipped by you the way it seems to have.

But I don’t say that in a regretful way at all - more just out of pure astonishment, I think. I loved my children dearly when they were children, but I love them just as much - maybe more, even - now that they are all adults. They all all really admirable people, and I feel very fortunate.

I also feel very puffy lately. LOL. I began (again) yesterday with the calorie counting <grumble> and fully intend to be back to my old self by Memorial Day weekend when DH and I will be joining our cronies up at our traditional New Hampshire/White Mountains retreat during which we manage to solve all the world’s problems. Theoreticially. Only one of us has ever held public office, and he got bloody tired of it. We’ll tell our stories around a nice big fire, do some singing and drumming, eat lots of healthy (mostly vegetarian) food, and do a bit of hiking and rock-scrambling. Okay. I mean climbing. Except sometimes you slide and then you have to scramble, you know? (Or hope DH is right at your elbow - which he usually is - and grabs you at the precise time you need him to). Oh, and breathe lots of fresh (thin) mountain air. It CAN be a bit daunting at first, until you adjust to the change. I once tried to ride my mountain bike (what a misnomer, if there ever was one!) on one of the trails up there, and found myself gasping for breath after the first gently upward sloping stretch. Yikes. Scary.

Well, back to work - that’s where I am this morning. A bit tired because DH & I watched “Their Eyes Were Watching God” last night, and I got to bed somewhat late. Tonight I’ll be going up to see my grandtwins at the hospital. Anyway, if you haven’t seen this movie, I highly recommend it. It was produced by Oprah Winfrey a while back (we ordered it from Netflix) and is a screen adaptation of the book by Zora Neale Hurston - written back in the 1920’s. Really an exquisite movie. As Oprah notes in her introduction, “Wherever Zora Neale Hurston IS (she died some years ago) if she sees this movie, she’ll be SHOUTING.”

Hugs and Happy Spring,

Z