Two grainy, black-and-white birthdays. Six and fourteen. (Fourteen!??):
Gingerbread waffles, anyone?
Sight words, Christmassy things, and first cousins once removed:
Remember how our tree was 16.5 feet tall last year? This year it’s slightly less impressive. Like . . . 14 feet less impressive. Ha! Mike really wanted one we could plant at the cabin afterwards. The kids were good sports and made the most of decorating our Charlie Brown tree.
Birthday cash, Goldie’s choir concert, Daisy’s choir concert, flying babies, and asthma attacks:
Baby blessing (Summer Maren):
I knew nothing about Mike’s third great-grandma Maren (nor did Mike really) until, assigned with the task of middle-naming our baby, Mike spent a morning looking over family history records. Maren’s life was not a life of simple choices and angelic ease; and she died on the ship bringing her from Denmark to America on the very day land was sighted. She was buried on a little island in the Mississippi Delta (a little island that likely no longer exists). After reading about her, Mike felt that she should be remembered, this Danish grandma of his. It’s funny because Maren isn’t even my ancestor, but she is Summer’s, and I feel so strangely happy that Mike found her. I feel something bordering on fierceness in my feelings of loyalty to her. I am so glad a little connection has been forged between Summer and this fourth-great-grandma of hers!
Lastly: chickens – always wishing I’d let them in (and being disappointed in that wish); a Goldie-made Perry-the-Platypus ornament that I am quite sure I’ve wanted, without knowing it, for all of my life; and, a little Christmas-hatted baby girl.
1 comment:
That is the uber-platypus. I love it.
Post a Comment