February 23, 2004 - From Ms. Mary to friends:
It was time to move the new bears and the Bag Lady up to the top of the bookshelf. This is not just a matter of tossing a few lumps of fur into a pile up there. No, no. It has to be done right. First step is for all new members of the family to vacate the black chair where they have been parked in transition from alone-out-there to all-together-here. Then, one at a time -- no fussing about order, please -- they return to the chair alone to be photographed. Not being a professional shooter, I don't always get it right in the first couple of clicks. The bears giggle about the deer-in-the-headlights look in each other's eyes after the flash goes off, and then Baby Reindeer says to no one in particular, "I really think it is more of a BEAR-in-the-headlights look, if you ask me, but then nobody ever asks me anything because everybody thinks a baby doesn't know anything." And Humphrey grins his biggest camel grin. And Flat Duck says, "If anyone has anything to grump about, it's me." And Just Ducky scowls even scowlier and growls -- ducks really can growl when they are in a bad mood and have been hanging around with a bunch of bears -- in his growliest voice, "Oh, here we go again. Oh, yes, everything is just ducky, juuuust ducky!" The hair on the backs of a few necks starts to stand on end. "HARRUMPH!" Patriot Bear SIR clears his throat. Nobody says a peep -- come to think of it, there are no chickens up on the bookshelf -- nobody says anything. Then Baby Reindeer says, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of anyone." Humphrey keeps grinning. (He is a very pleasant-tempered camel and doesn't mind a bit when Patriot Bear SIR steals his thunder by doing the big "HARRUMPH" in a pretty good imitation of a camel's voice.) The two red bears (#1 from Baltimore and Scarlet from Minnesota) are the first to apologize for using the expression "deer in the headlights." And then Lacey from Fort Lauderdale says softly, "I think we should call it a PEOPLE-in-the-headlights look." Oh my goodness. I was so busy trying to keep giggling bears from rolling off the bookshelf that I didn't have time to be upset at the choice of words. And then Baby Moose and Mr. Bucky Rosedale (cute little khaki-colored bear rescued from the Dollar Store in Rosedale Mall in St. Paul, Minnesota) and Mr. Valentine had to take turns repeating the statement for the big Minnesota Bear (aka Manni) because he has a big winter hat over his ears, so he spends a lot of time saying, "What?" and trying to read lips. (If you have ever tried to read the lips of a stuffed animal in conversation with other stuffed animals, you will know what trouble the Manni Bear has.) The twins, Kris and Chris, from the Rite-Aid drug store are still rather shy but their eyes were shining like little stars. I don't think it will be long until they participate in all the bear talks and bunny hops and duck walks and reindeer flights of fancy and moose bull. (No, I don't worry about the bull becoming off-color or deep because Patriot Bear SIR can change the subject real fast with a single "HARRUMPH!")
So we got everyone photographed and then got some photographed again and then even had to shoot a few for a third time. But now they have picture IDs and their original photos are in the digital gallery with the rest of the family. And you have no idea how much of this "people in the headlights" talk and giggling I had to put up with. I thought it was pretty clever at first -- even though I didn't tell them so -- but after about the ten-thousandth time it started to get old. I think what saved them -- and me -- was the sheer pleasure in knowing they were having a good time and becoming closer as family. (But I AM glad the apartment has quieted down some now.)
Then -- after the photos -- comes the placement on the bookshelf. Patriot Bear SIR (and the other bears) have had time to look over the new members of the family and discuss the proper locations for each. I didn't agree with all of their decisions, but I don't argue with Patriot Bear SIR when he "HARRUMPHS!" at me. Sheesh. A stuffed bear is telling ME what to do. Not all goes as smoothly as you might expect. I hear things like, "He's got his foot in my eye" and "You're sitting on my paw" and "You're squishing my stuffing" and so on, but they wiggle and jiggle and pretty soon everyone is comfortable and happy and settled. I did hear a few questions posed to Patriot Bear SIR about the whys of Mr. Valentine and Humphrey the Camel being allowed to settle on the sofa where they were by themselves and had plenty of room. They are there to be handy when I need a furry hug, and they both offered to trade places with those on the bookshelf if anyone thought they ought to be on the sofa instead. There was a bit of mumbled conversation up on the bookshelf -- and Patriot Bear SIR very wisely stayed out of the discussion -- and then all agreed that the best choice at present was for Humphrey and Mr. Valentine to remain on the sofa.
The Twins and The Bag Lady have stiff legs so they need to stand up all the time. We managed to accomodate their needs without having to apply to the state for handicapped parking stickers. The Bag Lady is quite the sweetie. She came from my son Todd at Christmas and she is actually a big green M&M with a red boa around her neck and white floozy-type snowboots on her feet, and she carries a bag with printing that states "I [heart] Christmas Shopping." The Twins are fascinated by her. She flirts shamelessly and indiscriminately, but she is not cheap or easy.
So now the black chair is empty again and I can sit in it to read -- but not tonight because I have been informed that, due to all the excitement of the new family members joining the others on the bookshelf -- everyone is ready to go to sleep early and they would appreciate it very much if I would turn out the lights and go to bed myself. (They don't ask me to kiss each of them goodnight because that could take all night.) I was tempted to remind them whose place this is and who is in charge here, and then I realized I'm not really in charge . . . and Patriot Bear SIR has another "HARRUMPH!" waiting for me right there on the tip of his tongue. So . . . g'nite all.
Sleep well.