Wednesday, July 27, 2016

Adorable, Fun and Restful

Dear People,

This year is my summer of rest.  That means I do a lot, but I do it more slowly and only when I want to.  And it's been good.

Just a couple of glimpses of some of the nice things I have done so far this summer:

Get to know my two grandsons, Edwin, above, Ronan, below:




Go out for breakfast with my own baby girl:


Go for coffee with my bookend daughters, Alice, 29, Rosebud, 10:


Go out for ice cream with these three, and pose with the poster of the play they are in, 
A Midsummer Night's Dream, Shakespeare at the Farm:


Woah, no I did not hike and canoe to Della Falls, but Sparky and the boys did, and I both missed them AND had the house to just Rosebud and Myself:


Bonus photo, Sparky and Edwin:


And  all of that, my friends,  is time well spent.

Monday, July 4, 2016

And baby makes ten

There's been a lot of baby-happening around here as you already know.
And here's some very big news...our baby, our OWN baby,
our BABY - turns ten years old today.

She is lovely, wise, sophisticated.
She is tender and loves God and her family so very much.

She possesses a dry wit.  By way of example.  When I let her eat in the living room yesterday, qualifying that this was only because it was the eve of her birthday she replied,
"I'll try to contain myself."

This is a very poor quality picture of a picture because it was handy.
Note the bruise on the right of her forehead.  She has six older siblings, and therefore sustained minor injuries in her day-to-day life.
In real life, it's actually quite a nice picture, I keep it on my wall with my other baby pictures.







Tuesday, June 28, 2016

Baby number two...Exhibit B



Deep breath.

Haaaaaaaaaaaah.    Siiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

Scout had a baby.  He's Perfect.
Woody Allen once said, "Eighty percent of success is showing up."
She showed up.  He showed up.
When that baby showed up, they were there. They rocked birth.
I am blown away at the strength of my beautiful daughters and their men.

And the result is eight pound three ounce baby boy, Ronan.
Ronan Paul Baptiste.

Ronan.  Irish.
Paul.  Grampa's middle name.
Baptiste.  Born on the feast of St. John the Baptist.

A baby is in the house.  A kind of hush falls.  Everything moves slower, quieter.
Everyone slows down in the presence of a baby.
Talk softer.
Breath deeper.
Sink back in our chairs.
Let our minds be still and soak up baby-ness.

I love you, Ronan. We have always loved you.

I miss you already and I haven't even left.