Book About UFOs

When Fiona was only a wee little thing, Terry would hold her in his arms and dance around the little apartment that was carved out of my parent's basement.



I remember thinking that we were too young to be parents.  What kind of adults listen to Husker Du in their parents' basement with a baby after all?  Despite our sweet set-up (grandparents were there to help, food was always offered, the newly renovated basement was fully furnished and actually nicer than any place we've lived since, we had cable tv, we had our own back porch complete with matching rocking chairs- it was nice), I was eager to move out and get our own apartment.

{Not long after we got married (like a month after), we found out I was pregnant.  I was excited, and scared out of my gourd.  And then sick.  And then grumpy because we were living in this big cold loft in downtown Atlanta that was expensive and not cozy and not at all the white picket fenced house I had always pictured living in when the day arrived that we would *clear throat* choose to have a baby.  And then I was sad, because I was working at a job that required me to travel a lot.  And I really just wanted to quit and be home with the baby.  But Terry was still freelancing, and it seemed risky.  Hence the decision to move in with my parents.}

Looking back, those were such sweet times.  Not worth one moment of fear or worry.

November, 2003:

Terry looks at Baby Fiona and says, "Dera, do you think she'll read books about UFOs one day?"

"Probably.  She already looks like you, and she's got your little furrowed brow... I bet she'll like the same things you like too."

Fast forward 6 years:

Fiona is a deep thinker.  She draws a lot.  She makes abstract jokes that fly over Neve's and my head.  She can just sit in a room and read a book about UFOs for hours.

She is her father's daughter for sure.  And that song chokes me up every time I hear it.