{"id":4612,"date":"2021-06-22T08:08:25","date_gmt":"2021-06-22T15:08:25","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/?p=4612"},"modified":"2021-06-22T08:08:25","modified_gmt":"2021-06-22T15:08:25","slug":"we-both-know","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/archives\/4612","title":{"rendered":"We Both Know"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Everett and Marlene, both seventy-four,\nboth professors emeritus at the University of Vermont, both undeniably\neccentric, have been married for fifty-one years. They are the parents of\nMichael, an ornithologist, Caroline, a botanist, and Thomas, a wildlife\nbiologist specializing in foxes and other small to medium-sized carnivores. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marlene, her light brown hair now\nsilvery gray, began her studies of butterflies when she was seven by capturing\nthree Tiger Swallowtails and trying to keep them alive in her bedroom for as\nlong as she could. Everett, a former redhead now bald, began collecting beetles\nwhen he was eight, and by the time he was twelve had a dozen large terrariums\nhousing hundreds of beetles, each one known to Everett by the first, middle,\nand last names he gave them, along with their Latin appellations, of course.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Coincidentally, Marlene\u2019s parents\nand Everett\u2019s parents were all artists. Everett\u2019s father was a sculptor\nspecializing in statues of famous Americans, his mother a potter. Marlene\u2019s\nfather was a painter of nudes, Marlene\u2019s mother a modern dancer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Michael and Caroline and Thomas agree\nthat Everett and Marlene could only have married each other because no one else\ncould possibly put up with either of them. They agree about this for many\nreasons, but most obviously because Marlene sings constantly, not loudly or melodically,\nbut noticeably, except when she\u2019s sleeping or talking. She sings while driving,\nwalking, writing, watching movies, reading, listening to other people, and during\nmeals. And Everett hums and whistles, sometimes both simultaneously, concurrently\nwith Marlene\u2019s singing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

As a consequence of their incessant soundings\nand their loud and unexpected non sequiturs which are only funny to them, along\nwith their mutual tendency to lecture others by asking questions they\nthemselves never answer, to name but a few of their many idiosyncrasies, neither\nEverett nor Marlene has ever had a close friend, other than each other. And\nalso as a consequence of their annoying habits, their children reflexively\nsought to distance themselves from their parents and seek refuge in each other\nand a series of valiant nannies employed by Everett and Marlene to raise the\nkids while they continued their obsessive studies of butterflies and beetles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Which is not to say their children\ndon\u2019t love them, but to say their children don\u2019t care to spend much time with\nthem. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

So you may imagine Michael and\nCaroline\u2019s distress when Everett and Marlene announce they are coming to\nCalifornia for the two weeks surrounding Thanksgiving to meet their first and\nonly grandchild Jenna, daughter of Michael and his wife Daisy, and to stay with\nMichael and Daisy in their new house contiguous with Ziggurat Farm on the\noutskirts of the northern California coastal town of Mercy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Caroline, who is living with Michael\nand Daisy and Jenna while on sabbatical from the University of New Hampshire,\nis so<\/em> worried about the impending\narrival of her parents, she suggests to Michael and Daisy that they forewarn\nthe adults of the Ziggurat Farm collective about Marlene and Everett\u2019s\neccentricities before their arrival a week hence.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And because Caroline and Michael and\nDaisy and baby Jenna dine with the farm collective several times a week, the\nmeeting takes place the next night after the farm kids have gone to bed. Also\npresent at the meeting are Delilah, twenty-five, the main homeschool teacher at\nZiggurat Farm, and Nathan and Celia, an elderly couple who share their home in\nMercy with Delilah and are frequent visitors to the farm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe good news,\u201d says Michael, who\nis forty-three and somewhat less distressed than Caroline about their folks\ncoming to visit, \u201cis that our younger brother Thom is arriving a few days after\nMommer and Popper and has agreed to take them on a couple overnight jaunts away\nfrom here to give us some relief.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou call your parents Mommer and\nPopper?\u201d asks Andrea, boss of the farm\u2019s vegetable and flower garden as well as\nmanager of Ziggurat Farm Productions, publisher of Philip\u2019s two cookbooks and a\nrelated line of Philip\u2019s Kitchen<\/em> and Ziggurat Farm<\/em> T-shirts and sweatshirts\nfeaturing Delilah\u2019s beguiling drawings, and<\/em>\na just-released volume of Nathan\u2019s poems with illustrations by Delilah entitled\nExactly Is A Tricky Word<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhen I was two and trying to say Mama<\/em> and Papa<\/em>,\u201d Caroline explains to Andrea, \u201cout came Mommer<\/em> and Popper<\/em>, and the\neffect on our parents was miraculous. Not only did they both stop their\nperpetual singing and humming, they both smiled and laughed and gave me and\nMichael hugs and kisses, something they rarely did, so thereafter we never called\nthem anything else because we loved it when they stopped singing and humming\nand hugged us. When Thom came along ten years after me, we taught him<\/em> to call them Mommer<\/em> and Popper<\/em> so he might\nreap the benefits of those inexplicably effective words.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRemarkable,\u201d says Philip, who loves\nlistening to Caroline speak. \u201cShall we<\/em>\ncall them Mommer<\/em> and Popper<\/em>?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo,\u201d says Michael, slowly shaking\nhis head. \u201cDaisy tried a few times and Mommer angrily lectured her for several\nminutes each time with a cascade of questions.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow do you mean?\u201d asks Nathan, who\nfinds all this both silly and fascinating. \u201cCan you demonstrate?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will,\u201d says Daisy, who is\nforty-one and adores Nathan. \u201cMarlene said, \u2018Do you think it appropriate for\nyou to call me the pet name given to me by my children? Do you make a habit of\nthat sort of thing? Who suggested you call me by that name? What did you call your<\/em> mother? What pet name did she have\nfor you? Would you like it if I<\/em>\ncalled you<\/em> by the pet name given to\nyou by your mother?\u2019 Etcetera.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI see,\u201d says Nathan, finding the\nsituation less silly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe other good news,\u201d says\nCaroline, who loves being three thousand miles away from her parents instead of\nonly a hundred and eighty-six miles, which is the distance between the\nUniversity of New Hampshire where she is a professor and the University of\nVermont where her parents still live, \u201cis they are not<\/em> thinking of retiring here because they both want to move\nsomewhere warm year-round. We are hopeful of Hawaii if not Malaysia.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSurely you exaggerate, Caroline,\u201d\nsays Marcel, Andrea\u2019s French husband and the farm\u2019s wine maker. \u201cYou and\nMichael are both so charming and easy to be with. Your parents must be\ncharming, too.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe were raised by wolves,\u201d says\nMichael, matter-of-factly. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cImagine a small pretty woman with\nsilvery gray hair sitting at this table with us,\u201d says Daisy, relieved to see\nseven-month-old Jenna snoozing peacefully in Celia\u2019s arms, Jenna extra fussy of\nlate. \u201cAnd imagine while the rest of us are trying to have a conversation, this\nwoman is singing, not quite under her breath, an endless song with\nunintelligible but almost intelligible lyrics. Now imagine there is also at the\ntable a bald man humming and occasionally whistling an entirely different tune\nthan the singing woman, his tune obnoxiously repetitive, and sometimes he hums\nand whistles simultaneously.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI didn\u2019t know it was possible to\nwhistle and hum at the same time,\u201d says Marcel, giving Delilah a questioning\nlook.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Michael demonstrates, the sound a\ncicada-like drone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Philip tries to imitate Michael, so\ndo Delilah, Marcel, Andrea, Lisa, and Nathan\u2014all of them bursting out laughing\nat the strange noises they make\u2014the outburst waking the baby who starts to cry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCalmate, hija,\u201d says Celia, gently\nrocking the baby back to sleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ve got the touch,\u201d says Daisy,\nsmiling gratefully at Celia. \u201cThank God.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCan\u2019t you ask them to stop<\/em> their humming and singing?\u201d asks\nMarcel, who finds the idea of college professors behaving this way rather farfetched.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh you can ask them to stop,\u201d says\nCaroline, nodding knowingly. \u201cAs you might ask the wind to stop blowing. But\nthe wind will not stop because you ask it to, nor will our parents stop singing\nand humming.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think this is going to be a\nproblem,\u201d says Nathan, looking at Caroline. \u201cI think they\u2019ll stop singing and\nhumming after they\u2019ve been here a few days.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy would you say that?\u201d asks\nMichael with a touch of anger in his voice. \u201cYou don\u2019t know anything about\nthem.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s true, Michael. And I didn\u2019t\nmean to imply that I do. But I know you and I know Caroline and\u2026 I just have a\nstrong feeling they\u2019ll be changed by being here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll try to imagine that,\u201d says\nMichael, his anger subsiding. \u201cI really will. And if it comes to pass, I will\nforevermore believe in magic and that you can see into the future.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

When Everett and Marlene arrive at\nZiggurat Farm on a cold November afternoon, having missed Daisy and Michael\u2019s\ndriveway as most people do the first time they come to visit, they are greeted\nat their rental car by three friendly dogs and four children on the cusp of\nyoung adulthood: Irenia, thirteen, Arturo, twelve, Henri, eleven, and Vivienne,\nten, the kids extremely curious to meet the humming and singing parents of\nMichael and Caroline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Everett and Marlene are delighted to\nmeet the kids, and do, indeed, hum and sing throughout the introductions and on\ntheir way to the farmhouse.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

They continue to hum and sing while\nmeeting Marcel and Andrea and Philip and Lisa, and they keep humming and singing\nas they shed their raincoats and stand by the fire warming themselves\u2014their\ncombined noises sounding not unlike bees swarming around a hive on a warm day.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cExcuse me,\u201d says Henri, standing\nbefore Everett, \u201cbut why are you humming?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike to hum,\u201d says Everett, winking\nat Henri. \u201cShe likes to sing and I like to hum.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhile other people are talking?\u201d\nasks Henri, ignoring his mother\u2019s urgent gestures and facial expressions asking\nhim to desist from this line of questioning.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo one usually hears us,\u201d says\nMarlene, who has a strong Boston accent. \u201cWe\u2019re usually alone or just with each\nother.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut we<\/em> are here now,\u201d Henri persists. \u201cWe can hear you and it makes us\nfeel like you don\u2019t want us to talk to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh but we do,\u201d says Marlene,\nsmiling at him. \u201cJust ignore it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll try,\u201d says Henri, shrugging.\n\u201cBut I don\u2019t think it will be easy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Michael arrives at the\nfarmhouse a little while later he finds Everett and Marlene sitting on the\nliving room sofa holding hands and listening to Irenia and Arturo and Henri and\nVivienne singing a four-part harmony version of The Beatles\u2019 \u2018Blackbird\u2019,\nArturo accompanying the singing on guitar. \u2018Blackbird\u2019 is one of the songs the\nkids will be performing at the upcoming Ziggurat Farm School Holiday Follies.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the children finish their enthusiastic\nperformance, Everett and Marlene jump up applauding, Everett exclaiming, \u201cDon\u2019t\nchange a note. Couldn\u2019t be better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And Marlene turns to Michael and\nshouts, \u201cNo wonder<\/em> you became an\nornithologist.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 Two mornings later, a light rain falling, Caroline\nand Marlene walk from Daisy and Michael\u2019s house to the cottage where Andrea and\nMarcel and Henri live, a stone\u2019s throw from the farmhouse, and where for this\nmorning Lisa has commandeered the living room to give Marlene a massage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019ll be at the farmhouse, Mommer,\u201d\nsays Caroline, handing her mother off to Lisa. \u201cSee you after.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Marlene stops singing to say to\nCaroline, \u201cSee you after,\u201d and immediately resumes her singing. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Caroline departs, Lisa says,\n\u201cWould you like me to leave the room while you undress?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cUndress?\u201d says Marlene, startled.\n\u201cOh I don\u2019t think I want to do that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI use body oil that will be very\ngood for you,\u201d says Lisa, noting the stoop in Marlene\u2019s posture and her marked lean\nto her left. \u201cIf you\u2019re not naked, I can\u2019t use the oil. But if you\u2019d rather\nkeep your clothes on, I can massage you without oil, though the massage won\u2019t\nbe as effective.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou want me to take off all<\/em> my clothes?\u201d asks Marlene, who has\nnever had a massage and never been naked in front of anyone except Everett, and\neven with him she only takes off her nighty when they\u2019re under the covers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll be under a sheet,\u201d Lisa\nexplains, gesturing to the massage table made up with blue flannel sheets.\n\u201cI\u2019ll leave the room while you disrobe and you call me when you\u2019re ready. We\u2019ll\nstart with you face down. The face catcher is at the end of the table. I think I\ncan alleviate some of the pain you spoke of at supper last night.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lisa leaves the room and Marlene\nconsiders changing her mind and not<\/em>\nhaving a massage, at which moment the pain in her neck and shoulders and back\nthat has persisted for decades expresses itself loudly, and in a little rage of\nfrustration Marlene takes off her clothes, drapes them over the back of the\nsofa, gets under the sheet on the massage table, and situates herself so she is\nface-down in the cushioned face catcher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d she murmurs, speaking so\nquietly she doesn\u2019t think Lisa could possibly hear her, yet Lisa returns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lifting the sheet off Marlene\u2019s feet,\nLisa says, \u201cI\u2019m going to start with your feet, Marlene. Are you ticklish?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot that I know of,\u201d says Marlene,\ntensing her entire body in anticipation of Lisa touching her. \u201cI\u2019ve never done\nthis before. But it\u2019s not my feet that hurt, it\u2019s my neck and shoulders and back.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI understand,\u201d says Lisa, taking\nMarlene\u2019s left foot in her warm hands. \u201cBut everything is connected. As you\nwill see.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two hours later, Marlene wakes from\na dream of having had an amazing life-changing massage from Lisa, and for a\nmoment she doesn\u2019t know where she is and doesn\u2019t realize she is lying on her\nback on Lisa\u2019s massage table\u2014the pain that has defined her life for as long as\nshe can remember entirely gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLisa?\u201d she says, having no idea how\nlong she\u2019s been asleep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m here,\u201d says Lisa, getting up\nfrom the sofa and coming to the massage table. \u201cNeed a hand up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d says Marlene, holding out her\nhand to Lisa. \u201cI\u2019m\u2026 the pain is gone. I can\u2019t believe it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMight come back,\u201d says Lisa,\nhelping her sit up, the sheet falling away and Marlene not caring if Lisa sees\nher naked. \u201cI\u2019ll massage you a few more times while you\u2019re here. But now\u2026 how\nabout a warm bath in the soaking tub with me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOkay,\u201d says Marlene, getting off\nthe table and allowing Lisa to wrap a big towel around her and lead her to the big\ntub in the bathhouse adjoining the cottage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When Lisa and Marlene enter the\nfarmhouse for lunch, the morning session of homeschooling has just ended and\nthe six students are eating lunch with Delilah at the dining table while Philip\nand Andrea and Marcel are in the kitchen preparing lunch for the grownups.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI feel like a little girl,\u201d\nwhispers Marlene, taking Lisa\u2019s hand. \u201cA little girl who has never been\nanywhere or done anything.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

That night as they get ready for bed\nin the guest room in Michael and Daisy\u2019s house, Everett hums and whistles as he\nchanges out of his clothes into his pajamas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now something feels terribly wrong\nto him, so he stops humming and realizes he can\u2019t hear Marlene singing. In a\npanic, he turns to where he last saw her, and there she is in her nightgown,\nstanding at the partly open window listening to the rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou okay, Mars?\u201d he asks, wondering\nwhy she isn\u2019t singing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m fine,\u201d she says, her voice calmer\nthan Everett has ever known it to be. \u201cJust enjoying the sound of the rain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He joins her at the window in his\nT-shirt and underpants, and he doesn\u2019t hum and she doesn\u2019t sing, and they\nlisten to the rain together for several minutes, the sound intoxicating.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe both know you started humming to\ndrown out my singing,\u201d she says, speaking the truth that has gone unsaid for\nfifty-two years. \u201cI wish I\u2019d stopped singing long ago, but I couldn\u2019t. Or wouldn\u2019t.\nBut now I want to stop and I\u2019d like you to help me by calling my attention to\nit whenever I start.\u201d She takes his hand. \u201cWill you Ev?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you sure you didn\u2019t start\nsinging to drown out my humming and whistling?\u201d he says, wanting to share some\nof the blame.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sure,\u201d she says, bringing his\nhand to her lips and kissing his fingertips. \u201cYou never hummed until we got\ntogether, and I\u2019ve been singing like I do, which isn\u2019t really singing but\nsing-song talking, since I was a little girl. But now I\u2019m going to stop and I\nhope you\u2019ll stop with me, and we\u2019ll see what happens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs this because of the massage?\u201d he\nasks, struggling to contain his tremendous urge to start humming.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe massage was the key that opened\nthe box with the treasure map inside,\u201d she says, sitting on the edge of the\nbed. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe treasure map?\u201d he says, sitting\nbeside her. \u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe treasure map to the buried\ntreasure that was me as a frightened girl who didn\u2019t want to hear the horrible\nthings her parents were saying to each other and to her brother and sister, and\nto her. She wanted to mute those words, but then her singing became her habit\nand also the way she stayed separate from everyone else, which was the only way\nshe could feel even a little bit safe, and I have no doubt I would have ended\nup in the loony bin if you hadn\u2019t seen through my singing and fallen in love\nwith me so I could fall in love with you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

*<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The next morning, rain intermittent, Thomas Darling, Everett and Marlene\u2019s youngest son, arrives at Ziggurat Farm, having missed the driveway to Michael and Daisy\u2019s house as everyone does the first time they come to visit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thirty-one, handsome and\nbroad-shouldered with unruly red hair, Thomas knocks on the farmhouse door and\nhears four dogs barking in tones he recognizes as friendly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The door opens and here is Arturo,\nthirteen, a fast-growing cutie pie with longish brown hair and olive skin\nwearing a red Ziggurat Farm sweatshirt and black jeans and neon blue running\nshoes. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAh,\u201d says Arturo, offering Thomas\nhis hand. \u201cYou must be Thom. I\u2019m Arturo. Please come in. We\u2019re just finishing\nup the morning lesson and then one of us will escort you to Michael and\nDaisy\u2019s. The entrance to their driveway is invisible to the uninitiated.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thomas enters the large\nhigh-ceilinged room that is living room, dining room, and kitchen all in one, only\nthe long counter that separates kitchen from dining room a permanent divider of\nthe spaciousness. A young woman with short brown hair and four kids ranging in\nage from ten to fourteen are seated in a big circle around a small dais upon\nwhich a twelve-year-old boy holding an accordion and wearing a headdress made\nof a dozen large feathers is posing for the others to sketch him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThe greatly-anticipated Thom has\narrived,\u201d announces Arturo, returning to his seat in the circle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWelcome Thom,\u201d says Henri, the\nartists\u2019 model. \u201cOr do you prefer Thomas?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThom is fine,\u201d says Thomas,\ndelighted by what he\u2019s stumbled into.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWelcome Thom,\u201d say the other kids\nas they continue sketching Henri.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now the young woman stands up and\nThomas\u2019s jaw drops\u2014his previous notions about everything blown to smithereens.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHello Thom,\u201d she says, coming to\ngreet him. \u201cI\u2019m Delilah. Do you mind hanging out with us until we finish the\nmorning session? Then someone will guide you where you want to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t mind at all,\u201d he says,\nshaking her hand. \u201cMight I join your class? I love to draw.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPlease,\u201d she says, very much\nenjoying the union of their hands, as is he.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

fin<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Forgotten Impulses<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Everett and Marlene, both seventy-four, both professors emeritus at the University of Vermont, both undeniably eccentric, have been married for fifty-one years. They are the parents of Michael, an ornithologist, Caroline, a botanist, and Thomas, a wildlife biologist specializing in foxes and other small to medium-sized carnivores. Marlene, her light brown hair now silvery gray, […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[6854,5306,6820,6862,369,6853,6860,6851,6856,6859,6858,6689,6855,6857,6852,6850,6863,6861,6788],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4612"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=4612"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4612\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4617,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/4612\/revisions\/4617"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=4612"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=4612"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/underthetablebooks.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=4612"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}