The littlest bruiser

Poppy’s new cousin, Claire, was born last night. Her stats? 22.5 inches long and 9 pounds, 15 ounces. My math skills are less than stellar when I’m fully awake, and it was after 11 last night when we got the call. Thus my sleep-addled mind didn’t fully process until this morning that little Claire weighed 10 pounds.

Claire and her mommy are doing just fine this morning. According to my brother-in-law, Mark, baby Claire is a serene little girl with chubby cheeks and a head full of dark hair.

Drop by ChloePoppins.com with your good wishes!

Je parle français (un peu)

Last night I dreamed that I was hanging out in the pro shop at a golf course, and a distraught young man rushed up to me, desperate for help. He needed me to translate a phrase into French for him, so he could have it engraved on a bracelet for his one true love.

Now, I took French for a few years in high school and college. I can still read a little bit of French, and I could probably ask for food, water and a bathroom should I ever find myself stranded in France. I didn’t have any exemplary language skills in my dream, either. But I did successfully translated the lovestruck young man’s declaration. I typed my French translation into the Altavista translator this morning, just to see whether I really had spelled out what the man wanted to say.

And indeed, “Je t’aime comme mon pied gauche” does mean “I love you like my left foot.”

Wings

I was sort of wrong about the wasps’ nest outside our window. I thought it was the beginnings of a nest of the nasty sort of wasps. The maintenance guy, though, tells me that it was a mud daubers’ nest, and he assured me that mud daubers don’t sting. (But they are a type of wasp! So I was a little bit right!) He flicked the nest of the windowsill with his finger. I felt mildly silly.

After solving the nest-on-the-window problem, we uncovered a mystery.

Marsha had cut down another winged invader just before the maintenance guy arrived. I showed the carcass to him, and it apparently wasn’t a mud dauber. Nor was it a hornet. It looked wasp-like to me, but it didn’t appear to have a stinger. Not that I looked very closely. Whatever it was, I don’t like these flying nuisances buzzing around in the house. But the only nest visible was the mud daubers’, so the maintenance guy left without looking into it further.

Which leaves only Marsha to defend us. That’s not a comforting thought.