Monday, 17 August 2009

The Turtle

I was flicking through the photos on my phone this afternoon and found this. It was on the wall opposite the nurse's station in our local hospital. I snapped it during one of my visits to see PJ when he was in hospital with his chainsawed knee.

When I was growing up, my sisters and I called this pose The Turtle. One of us would get down on hands and knees while the other would jump up to reach a high place such as the cupboard where our parents hid the cooking chocolate.

PJ finished making this step yesterday morning. He made it out of the rocks I dug up from the garden two weeks ago.

When I first became comfortable with the prefix step in stepmother, I visualised myself as The Turtle. I spent the day today writing up my most recent stepmother interviews and every time I typed the word step, an image of this one came to mind.

5 comments:

WriterBee said...

Ahem. Is that how you got into the chocolate? I always wondered.

(Text)ure and (me)aning said...

That is a beautiful piece of writing Meg, melted like the cooking chocolate, my heart.

Meg said...

When I explained The Turtle to Z, I got down on my hands and knees to show him and he laughed. Then he flicked his body like a rubber band onto the kitchen counter and snapped up in one swift move to reach a high cupboard.

Maybe there's something in that – that you evolutionarily adapt to become more flexible when you're an only child.

farmdoc said...

Necessity's the mother (or sister) of invention.
Be this as it may, nice step PJ.

Meg said...

Look at this gorgeous image I just found!!