Thursday, December 29, 2011

Birthday boy, ta-da and simple amusements.

1. "Happy birthday, manlet." This morning -- it's really stretching the definition of morning, though -- I don't mind helping Alec back to sleep in the small hours.

2. If I have no pocket, I stash my handkerchief down the front of my dress. Alec has a habit of pulling it out. He looks as proud as if he'd produced the flags of all the nations, a bunch of flowers and a live dove.

3. To watch him anticipate. He giggles before a 'boo' or the popping of the weasel. He holds his breath for the turning on (or off, either will do) of the radio. And he flutters his fingers greedily when I offer him milk.


  1. Congratulations for surviving the first year. I reckon the mum should get some sort of recognition: a medal, perhaps, or a small statue. And happy first, wee Alec!


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