And galavanting on the bus.
And wandering sunny campuses with wacky sculptures.
And helping other wacky sculptures push a sculpture-wall for Reasons Unknown (ok, *I* am pushing. Eleanor is like MOTHER YOU ARE EMBARRASSING ME).
And then I left Eleanor with her daddy and went off to drink a very large beer
and eat some very small Yorkshire puddings.
And then our houseguest went home and Joel and Eleanor and I went off to hold Kenton, who is seven weeks old and very wise about the face. Eleanor wanted to SQUISH that face.
And now the sunny, sculpture-browsing weather is gone and it is SNOWING and COLD. Eleanor seems to like it, except that she can't use her hands when they are covered in snowsuit and she has to just sit in the stroller like a lump. But she finds the temperature bracing. Today she chirruped loudly into the clear air all the way to the store and back.
2 comments:
I feel compelled to explain that wacky statue number 1 is called the prairie chicken. Okay, officially it's supposed to look like the pages of a book fluttering open in the wind, but almost as officially, it's called the prairie chicken, as it looks like a chicken during mating. True story.
My alma mater is more than a little lacking in in the art and architecture departments...
You look better in that rusty red dress than I do.
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