rudderless

Update: Fish

So apparently John read that the goldfish’s domicile is “inappropriate” for long-term sustainability. That goldfish have such underdeveloped digestive tracts, they create a toxic sludge for themselves relatively quickly. We need a HUGE tank, or a filter, or both.

This is alarming to us, as Sophie, has recently figured out what it means to die. At thirty years of age, I can barely wrap my head around the heartbreak of death. To be not-even four and asking me questions like, “Did Great-Grandaddy die?” is a lot to swallow. You can filter and protect and edit your stories all you like, but when you have a smart, perceptive kid hanging on your every word, life, and fish-keeping, gets complicated sometimes.

Meet Flippy!

We’ve had ants, and butterlies, and now a fish. “Her” name is Flippy and she joined our family this afternoon. The girls are thrilled. John and I are already wondering how we’ll remember to feed it three times a day. I barely get three meals in my kids three times a day. I suppose there’s always room for improvement.