9:25 am: It's too damned strange. Strange to be wandering around my sunny house in slippers trying to toast a blueberry scone, get hot chai together and orange juice and watching thousands of real people die on TV.
Watching the airplane head directly for the second tower of the World Trade Center and watching it plow right into it is just bizarre. Especially knowing that there are people on that plane, people in the building. And the whole panic of a nation coming through as the national government and even the state governments all go into hiding as all the airports are closed down. And knowing the consequences are going to go vastly beyond this day. What is air travel going to be like after this? At least four hijacked planes in one day. Two used to bring down the World Trade Center, one into the Pentagon (which showed how useful it's architecture is), and one somewhere down in, of all places, Pittsburgh in a location that indicates someone put up a good fight...
And here I am in my home office after cuddling a warm, solid, feisty little baby who was comforted by the security of his blanket. It all seems unreal, like a badly coordinated special effect. Or a movie named, "The Fear of A Nation" or something about Middle Eastern, Afghani, or some other terrorists that was just all a fake-up to make people think.
Yet it's all real.
Real streets, real buildings, real firefighters, real hospital folks, and requests, all around the nation, for blood donations. I will probably make an appointment to try and donate blood this afternoon. It's been a year since the exploratory surgery that enabled Jet's conception, so I think I qualify again, and they'll be needing blood so badly.
As Trip puts it, "I hate human beings." Someone did that to everyone, and I hate them. They had Casper Wineburg on the TV, and I never agreed more with him when he said, "And the people who are responsible for this will be destroyed." It's not fear speaking, it's hate. Someone just earned the hatred of everyone in the U.S. and brought it down on themselves and everyone that might even look, smell, taste, feel, or breath like them. Destroy a few thousand earn the hatred of millions and all the power and money and capabilities they have.
I still want to cry, though. Just cry. Sorrow, anger, everything. Lives lost so suddenly and without warning, and the media on it and so confused and rife with rumor and fear. It'll provoke change in the U.S., certainly, as I don't think anyone would have thought this even possible before today, and here it is. Served up with the morning news, and my everyday breakfast. I'm glad, sometimes, that I do live outside of the big city and work well away from the centers of everything.
9:37 pm: The rest of our day was quiet. Xilinx sent everyone home that wanted to go home or needed to go home. So many kids were let out of school to go home to houses that were empty of working parents, which seems such an odd thing to do. So lots of folks went home to take care of kids. John and I took them at their word and John came home a bit early and we played with Jet and talked a little and tried to take it easy.
I know that I'm still processing it all, still trying to get a handle on the magnitude of it all and the consequences, which seem so vast, now.
Jet is now tumbling from one end of the room to the other. He managed to get over to the file cabinet while we were upstairs in the office, working some, and he started pounding the side of it with his hands, then with both feet, and then he started sucking on the corner of the cabinet while doing the pounding with all his limbs. It was really loud and it made me giggle a lot. He was very, very pleased with the volume of sound he could get from the metal box.
Dinner was macaroni and cheese with some of the leftover garlic chicken and microwaved French Cut green beans. It was very simple and very satisfying. Comforting food for a pretty uncomfortable day.
Jet ate really well at his evening meal. He got kiwi, mango, and apples in a mixed fruit combination. I wish I could get that kind of fruit combination. It was very good smelling and he downed it with relish. He didn't mind the beef and carrots when they were warmed. He also got to practice feeding himself with Cheerios after the meal. He concentrates really hard, and uses his hands anyway they'll work to get them to his mouth. I saw a mildly incredible combination of the pinky of one hand with the middle finger of the other, and he pinched the Cheerio between those two fingers and got it into his mouth.
Amazing what will make John and I cheer. Jet grinned triumphantly in response and then proceeded to drop the next five Cheerios into his chair, over the side, and he even got one down his shirt.
John and I watched some of the coverage. The continuous stuff was very wearing, though, and there was a bunch of repetition and a lot of stuff that just made me gradually more and more angry with all the channels and station's TV coverage. So we finally turned it off and just went out for a walk.
The sunset was gorgeous. The sky was all flames and the mountains black before them. There were kids out playing and yelling and running around. The guy and his dog were walking and they stopped so that the very shy, rescued dog could sniff and lick the face of a little girl. Jet wiggled and bounced. We spotted a frog by the drainage ditch that we think all the mosquitos come from. It was a little frog, and John saw it hopping along, and he caught Jet's attention and Jet watched it, fascinated. John caught it and set it in the tray of Jet's stroller and then held Jet's hands so that Jet wouldn't squash it. Jet didn't mind too much and watched the frog jump right into his lap.
That was pretty funny. The frog jumped out again and back to the water, and we headed back, as the mosquitos were coming out. Fat, happy frog, with that many mosquitos to eat.
Life goes on, I guess.
Jet only got up once last night. We were suitably amazed and I slept badly from midnight until 2, when he got up, but then slept just fine the rest of the night. I think I am just too used to having to get up twice a night that when he suddenly has switched to just once, it was a mite strange for me and my body. He was pretty active tonight until the last five minutes of his last feeding, then he passed out and refused a bottle. So we'll get to see how he does tonight.
As John puts it, "I refuse to call this a pattern until... well... it's a pattern.