Poor little P... Such wails that come from her normally content and laid back self. We hear the first few are the worst. This must be worse than the shots that plunge into her plumpness that will one day be her thigh muscle.
Here's a view of the street below our building below the midwestern sky. Warmth is peeking through the cold here, and I feel spring coming. Little P and her dresses and mom in her sandals. These are things I look forward to coming home to. Life is sweet.
Pela had her generational moment in the family crib yesterday. It's being passed on to a cousin of hers. I believe my grandmother, mother/aunt, myself and brother, his kids and P have hung out in it now. That's sustainability in housewares if you ask me. Although, ask me what housewares really are, and I may not be able to tell you.
Owen drinks a lot of water. Also, he enjoys dipping pieces of food in water and eating them softened. When he can't get the food out of the water bowl, the bowl gets funky. And he is forced to use other drinking methods.
So, craziness afoot these days, my Uncle Bill had an incident that was a stroke or had the effect of a stroke this past Sunday. Thank God, he is regaining control over his limbs, and has already moved out of ICU. Please continue prayer for he and his family. God is good.