Saying … things. Just things.
The name of my blog is Saying Things. I haven’t had many things to say lately, or at least didn’t feel much like saying them, hence the silence. My father’s been sick (hi, Dad, if you’re back to reading yet!) and that bums me out, especially at Christmas. But I decided last night I will go to TX soon (don’t know exactly when yet) and I felt better immediately. Still worried, but not as down in the mouth, I guess.
Baby C is on the cusp of walking, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He jaunts around with his little walker occassionally. Do you know what this means?!?!?! It means I will have to stop calling him Baby C because once a person walks, you gotta call them something else. Totlet C? Dudelet C? I just can’t decide.
For now I think I’m legit to call him a baby. He has been tearing all the bows of all the gifts under the tree. That keeps him pretty busy — gotta make sure none of the gifts have any extra ornamentation. Also, he removed To/From tags wherever possible. I have double-wrapped more than one thing to keep him from exposing what’s inside.
H, on the other hand, is saying funny things lately. Today he announced (repeatedly) that “I’m so glad tomorrow is Christmas Eve because I’ll get to open AT THE VERY LEAST one present!” I always responded “Actually, just one, not at least one.” And he answered (each time) “Yeah. AT LEAST ONE!!!” Little dude is stoked. He’s not really on board with the whole better to give than receive bit. I guess I wasn’t either, for a long time. And, in unrelated pictures:
I have a rabbit in the yard. I think it’s a cottontail, but maybe it’s a snowshoe — I have not examined the tracks closely yet. They seem a little narrow for snowshoe, but a little long for cottontail. Anyway, a couple of days ago it seems it was chased all around by something — probably a local dog. The tracks just dash around trees, and zigzag around, and then streak across open spaces. Sorry, Mr/Ms. Rabbit, but I’m amused at your expense. I hope you didn’t get eaten, because then I won’t see your tracks anymore. And the local dogs are plenty well-fed; they don’t need to eat you. Again, with the unrelated pictures:
I’m hoping we can go carolling tomorrow, if our neighbor will come along. If we go it alone we will have two problems (1) I don’t know which houses are actually inhabited in winter, so we will wander around the village knocking at empty houses, and (2) even where the houses are inhabited, we will be strange, strange strangers singing on people’s doorstep. And that is kind of weird, in a place where everybody knows your name (Cheers!)
And now, for some painful cuteness: