Monday, February 04, 2002

Speaking of Fetuses
The other day, my pregnant daughter emailed me a sonogram of my grandchild. You have to understand that when I was pregnant they didn't have that kind of technology. Now they can even tell you if there might be something wrong with the fetus in case you choose to abort. Talk about ethical issues! Early on, I had long conversations with my daughter about those kinds of choices. I didn't have those choices and in some ways it was a lot easier not to have them. This is a incredible complex world this baby is going to be born into.
TV or Not TV
Anita bemoans the time that tv takes from doing other fun things. I remember when we didn't have a tv. I mean I remember when no one had a tv. And then I remember gathering with my cousins in front of a big cabinet just to watch the black and white pattern on the tiny 9 inch screen. Now, I guess, I watch a lot of tv in the evening because that's the time I can finally sit down and relax and work on a current knitting or crocheting project. I watch to escape, but the programs I watch -- even though they can be classified as prime-time soaps -- usually deal with issues that I want to think about. Tonight, for example Family Law dealt with the ethics of allowing a mother to have labor induced so that stem cells from her 6 month fetus could be used to save her 10-year old son's life. (I also watch Buffy. Heh.)
Stitches in Time
I get the stitches in my finger and hand taken out on Wednesday. I've been able to type OK but I haven't been able to do any crocheting on the vest I was trying to make for my mother's 86th birthday on the 18th. But I should be in shape to start working on the baby bunting for my grandchild so that it's done by July. And I also sent away for a pattern for a Winnie the Pooh. I remember that b!X had a terry cloth Pooh with whom he was never without for the first couple of years. My mother has very bad arthritis, and the cyst taken off my middle finger was related to a bone spur (also taken off) on the first joint, which is the result of arthritis. And arthritis is inherited. One of the not-so-great stitches that knit our generations together. I often ponder about which of my kids' vices and virtues they inherited, which my nurturing (such as it was) is responsible for, and which are totally theirs for whatever reasons.