how green was my valley
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Whatever the Verve may think, medication can be surprisingly effective. Up to a point: the Maxolon my midwife's got me on has dialled the constant nausea right down, which has certainly made life more pleasant, but without actually stopping the vomiting, a disconcerting consequence of which is that I now have little or no warning about when I'm going to be sick, resulting, the other day, in an emergency stop on State Highway One the other day (but let's face it, Levin had it coming).
(A friend asked me the other day why this blog lacks a comments function – mostly because it would just fill up with 'Enough about morning sickness already!' and similar observations.)
For the record, we weren't in Levin just to add to my Compendium of New Zealand Bergs I Have Vomited On (forthcoming from Victoria University Press, 2007) but to take Becca to the Levin A&P show (viz. county fair) to see the animals. She had a marvellous time, even managing to cuddle a baby bunny without making its eyes pop overmuch. The larger specimens had her a bit worried though; as we picked our way past the bullock pens she announced timorously 'I want to see some amimals [sic] that don't make noise.' She perked up when we took her to see the pigs though, all pigs being, as far as she's concerned, incarnations of Wilbur the Famous Pig from Charlotte's Web, which she's seen approximately five hundred times, much to my chagrin, since I'm not talking about the new CGI/live action version, but the 1973 badly-animated Hanna Barbera version with Debbie Reynolds as the spider, a film that manages to be both relentlessly Pollyannaish and unremittingly maudlin at the same time, for 94 long, long minutes. Don't know what the new version's like, but it surely can't be any worse even though Oprah's in it; at least it has Steve Buscemi, typecast as Templeton the rat.
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