First comes love.
Then comes marriage.
Then comes baby in the baby carriage,
Sucking his thumb,
Wetting his pants,
Doing the hula, hula dance!

As for that childish rhyme, it all came true except for the last part: our baby Haalie came in a bithlo.
K-i-s-s-i-n-g (spell it out) First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes baby in the baby carriage, Sucking his thumb, Wetting his pants, Doing the hula, hula dance! ![]() From a kid's taunting rhyme to Whitman's sublime choice of words to describe his life in the world. All of that came rushing back to me when I saw that picture above, reminding me of my time with Nokosee up in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g (and other things-- and if you read my books, you know what I'm talking about). The picture-- from a recent post on Brain Pickings-- spoke to me of that wonderful, unforgettable time Nokosee and I lived in the Everglades. At first, as a city girl, the silence-- aside from the mosquitoes-- was the hardest thing to get used to. I had doubts about making it in what I use to think of as "bumfuck nowhere." That all changed after I saw the stars above me for the first time without any interference from city lights. Until that moment when I was up in a gumbo limbo with Nokosee and looked up at his insistence, I had no idea what was going on above me and what I had been missing all my life. It was a wildly thrown veil of stars across the night sky. That picture above by Margaret C. Cook from a 1913 edition of Leaves of Grass brought all the magic back because that is truly how I felt in Nokosee's arms: taken away as if on a cloud. As for that childish rhyme, it all came true except for the last part: our baby Haalie came in a bithlo.
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AuthorHolatte-Sutv Turwv Osceola. CategoriesArchives
April 2020
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