Rejoicing: At the welcome return of two of my favorite reads in new locations.

First, Grace of Gracefully Yours, has dropped her nom de net and started a lovely new journal, Abeyance, under her own name, Elizabeth. She is in her third year of law school, and she writes thoughtfully and honestly about her life, her studies, and her work.

Fiona of Smithereens has also settled into new digs after a short hiatus. Whenever I feel harried by the responsibility that comes with three young children, I think of Fiona and her four "Noisy Ones."

Goose Attack

I took the twins to Mercer County Park to play today. We avoided this park during the heat of the summer because the play equipment is far away from any shady trees and directly in the full sun. Today was a perfect day to go, however, as the weather was partly sunny and cool.

Stephen and Matthew played on the sliding board while I sat on the bench and read. After a while I suggested a walk around the park. The boys raced ahead of me to the wide wooden bridge that crosses a stream running into the lake. Sometimes we see retirees fishing off this bridge; today it was empty except for another mother and her young toddler.

We stood on the bridge and looked at the rushing water below us for awhile, the boys peering through the wooden railings. We saw dragonflies of varied hue, and some muddy-colored fish swimming in the shallows. Then eagled-eyed Stephen spotted a turtle sitting on a small log.

"Look, there's another turtle!" Stephen shouted a few minutes later. "And a baby turtle, too."

Sure enough, on a second log nearby sat two more turtles, one large and one small. Once their eggs are laid, turtle mothers do not, I believe, take any familial responsibility for their young, and I am positive that male turtles are nothing more than sperm contributors; yet it was easy to anthropomorphize that little grouping into Daddy Turtle, Mama Turtle, and Baby Turtle.

A few minutes later, the largest turtle lumbered to the edge of the log and dove into the water. "The daddy turtle is swimming away," Matthew said. "Bye, turtle."

Deadbeat Dad, I thought.

I'd packed a lunch for the boys, and we decided to eat it at the picnic tables near the lake's edge. Unfortunately, we soon attracted the attention of a flock of twenty or more geese, who interpreted the rustling of paper bags as an invitation to join us for lunch. The approaching geese upset the boys, who began to wail with fright. One particularly bold one waddled within a few feet of Stephen and would not be discouraged by my yelling.

"Shoo!" I hollered, waving my arms, but it came even closer, and Stephen was panicking. As a last resort, I unscrewed the top of my Thermos cup and flung some water at the goose. With great flapping of wings and honks of protest, the goose retreated.

"Thank you for saving me, Mama," said Stephen tearfully.

This afternoon, Tab finally went to his new doctor for a long delayed physical. Everything checked out, except for his blood pressure, which was up. When I asked him what it was, he responded, "I don't know, just up." He wasn't prevaricating; he honestly didn't remember. I became obsessed with blood pressure after I had a bout of pregnancy-induced hypertension when I was carrying Daniel; I can't imagine not remembering my blood pressure numbers.

Tab has to return next week for another blood pressure check and some blood work. He is also supposed to schedule an echocardiogram. I am so glad that he finally made this appointment and that he liked his new doctor. Tab is 43, and his own father died of a heart attack at the age of 65. I want Tab to be around with us for a long time, so it is important for him to start taking care of himself.

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