Reading: We're halfway through The Complete Adventures of Curious George (a compendium of all six Curious George books) for the third straight time. George is currently number one on the twins' hit parade. I think they identify with him since they, too, are always curious and often in trouble.

Blossoms: Tulips are blooming in lots of places now, including Nana's back yard. My favorite color of tulips is the dusky rose shade. Dogwood trees are just starting to bloom.

Leaf Watch: Probably 75 to 90 percent of the trees have at least visible green buds. It's funny: in this part of the country, deciduous trees only bear leaves for about half the year, yet trees in their leafless state seem somehow deficient. There is probably some significant, philosophical lesson to be drawn from this, but I am too tired (or lazy) to try to make the point.

Bodies

Except for feeling sleepy all day, I have recovered from the virus. Stephen has been lethargic and is running a slight fever but seems to have avoided the other disagreeable symptoms. And Tab--lucky, lucky Tab--may have escaped the disease altogether.

One more comment about vomiting, and then I'll drop the repellent topic altogether...at least until the next time we all get sick. Once again, this bout of illness left me feeling betrayed by my own body: stuff that is only supposed to travel in one direction came back up the other way, no matter how much my mind tried to prevent it. I don't know why this surprises me. After all, with every cold I get and with every attack of my annual allergies, my body proves once again that it has a mind of its own.

The kids watched their Mulan video on Saturday. I was intrigued by the tape's preview of Tarzan, this summer's animated feature from Disney. As part of the publicity hype, the movie's chief animator, Glen Keane, spoke about his inspiration for Tarzan: Keane's teenage son and his son's friends, who are obsessed with skateboarding, in-line skating, and the like. He was impressed by their agility and their attitude, and he used both to interpret the character of Tarzan.

My mother-in-law was here while we were watching the preview. She saw the footage of the animated Tarzan intercut with shots of skateboarders, surfers, and snowboarders, and she sniffed, "He obviously hasn't seen any of the original Tarzan movies."

Well, I'm sure Keane has, but thankfully he is not using them for inspiration. The last thing I'd want to see is an animated Johnny Weismuller-style Tarzan. Of course, Stephanie sincerely believes that the last good movie ever made was Doctor Zhivago and that none of today's crop of actors can compare with the movie stars of her day.

Actually, I was intrigued by the idea of Tarzan as a kind of jungle-dwelling extreme-sports athlete. It makes sense to me that someone raised by apes would be as at home in the trees as a skateboarder on his wheels and would possess the same almost arrogant assurance of his prowess.

I watch my sons in motion, and I marvel at how they inhabit their bodies. I tend to think of my physical being as the servant of my mind or even as my possession. I have a body; my boys are their bodies. It shows in the way they run and jump and climb with such confidence, justified or not, in their abilities. I can barely remember when I felt like that all the time. Some activities have helped me recapture that feeling for short periods of time: Making love. Breastfeeding, but that has been over for years now. Exercise, which I don't do nearly enough. Even being sick, though unpleasant, reminds me of my body's own power.

Writing the above, I was embarrassed to realize I have never actually read Burroughs's Tarzan of the Apes. Off I go to Project Gutenberg.

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