The rock-a-bye-baby method of pacifying the young works on Willow now. Previously, it was a handy tool for getting The Dickens to calm down. After a few lines of the song she knew as "awkababy", she would hang limp in my arms, with a fixed stare and a wide grin. The song helps settle Willow, and she gets this look of wonder on her face as she stares up at me.

It's good that somebody likes my singing.

Here's a list of what kinds of words have burrowed into my eyes and found a home in my brain lately:

Bela Tarr - a collection of essays about Bela Tarr's films.
Amazonia, by James Rollins. Fun brain candy.
The Futurological Congress, by Stanislaw Lem. Biting social commentary. Also quite hilarious.
The Guide to Owning Millipedes and Centipedes, by Jerry G. Walls.
Freezer Burn, by Joe R. Lansdale. About a travelling circus/freak show.
The Melancholy of Resistance, by Laszlo Krasznahorkai. Also about a travelling circus. Sort of.
Sculpting in Time, by Andrey Tarkovsky. Lots of food for thought.

cds I listened to while humming rock-a-bye-baby: Klakki "i kjol ur vatni", Purple Ivy Shadows "Field Guide", Varttina "6.12.", and Calexico "Scraping"