Who is Thames Mortimore?

I've been bad about postings lately, as those who are kind enough to frequent this site can clearly see. I wonder now, perhaps, why I even bother with it. I haven't been exactly horribly busy lately. But somehow I've decided that there are more important things than coming over to Wheaton College to use their internet service and write something.

Perhaps I'm always worried about writing something of worth, something worth commenting on. Such a stupid sentiment. I remember that I made a commitment to leave posts that could be read in less than a minute or whatever. That was a genuine and prudent sentiment.

What I am doing now? Long or short? What is it about? Will we someday colonize Mars? And lastly, Who is this Thames Mortimore?

We want to go to Vancouver. But we don't to be cop outs being dissatisfied with living in Chicagoland (for whatever reason). Secretly I want this job at the Juvenile Detention Center because it would make things easier. If I don't get it, I have almost no reason to stay here and figure we might as well pack up for Vancouver.

If we stay, how long will it be before we return to Canada? I say return because hardly a day passes without thinking about our friends (particularly the Quissys and the Rigden-Briscalls, but so many others too), and thinking about what a beautiful place it is. Somehow it feels like home. Why and how? Well, it feels more like home than Michigan or Chicago.

This is a dumb confessional. I continue to struggle to figure out life. Currently I am reading The Brothers K. by Dostoevsky: the astounding philosophies of that book together with my lovely family and going to liturgy every week are the only things that make sense to me. But I'm grasping for more.

A whole year (of Queen Esmé)

Jude introduces the Queen.


She's pleased as punch, knowing that, yes, it is her day.


Diggin' in to the birthday cake. Her birthday bouquet is featured in the foreground.


A fun time reading at the end of an exhausting night.

Smattering.

As promised, a number of recent pictures for all of you out there. Enjoy.


Gatherin' 'round to read at Christmas. Elise (and all of us) attested to Gary's outstanding reading abilities.


The brother and sister chillin' together. Jude might have been a little upset out me taking a picture. Esmé was far away enough that she didn't get mad about me having the camera instead of her.


Ezzie loves her little vintage highchair: it means she gets to eat!


We thought she looked like a Japanese rock star. This was her Christmas Eve outfit.


Jude playing Junior Mastermind with his favorite cousin (and my favorite niece) Marta.

The broken is whole.

We moved Esme' (that is to say, her crib where she is supposed to sleep) into Jude's room. He is very obliging. So Esme' has been sleeping more since this new development, and by inference, Elise as well. Good for both of them (all of us really, but especially them!). Elise nursed Ezzie at around four a.m. (she had been sleeping since 7) and put her back down, but she wouldn't stop crying. Suddenly I heard the door open in their room, and correctly assuming it was Jude coming out -- not Esme' -- I then heard him say "I can't sleep because of Ezzie" or something to that effect. So we went and got the little pipsqueak.

Jude being up, he decided to use the restroom. He brought with him his new little diptych icon of Jesus and the Mother of God, and a broken rubber band, and set them on the back of the toilet. I noticed this and he said to me "I still have my rubber band." The previous day he had discovered the joys of playing with a rubber band. Yes, just a plain old rubber band. I taught him how to shoot it (Not at people, though, Jude!) properly. He was playing with it so vigorously that he broke it. It was now just a strip of beige rubber. When this happened he let me know. So I decided to "fix" it by tying the two ends in a double knot. But Jude wouldn't hear of it. As far as he was concerned, that rubber band was just as good broken as whole, maybe better. I went to work (Starbucks) later that evening and got back when he (and Ezzie) were in bed. It wasn't until that four o'clock incident that I would see him again.

It broke my heart how he insisted on keeping with him two very important treasures while he used the facilities: the diptych and the broken-but-still-very-fun rubber band.

More to come.

I'll be putting up new pix soon. There haven't been any new in awhile (except for that one of "Walk the Line"). So, stay tuned.