Note To Future Self

Can you tell me what happens next?

Hm…

Oh, my.

Well, poo. There goes the neighborhood.

As I lie here in a tryptophanic stupor, I find the will for full documentation slipping from me.

But before the moment is lost, hooray for first birthdays (with cake)!

Sadly, cake is apparently not as cool with the under-two set as her first taste of cow’s milk.

Presents were presented

… and shunned

And we capped it all off with the traditional birthday dinner of mac-and-cheese.

We tried to do our part.

Sprouticus had her first go with the camera over the weekend. Dad helped a bit with the shutter, but she did all the framing and composition.

She might be a prodigy. Perhaps she should find better looking models.

The bean sprout’s first birthday is rapidly approaching and we’re both quite stumped. What do you do on a first birthday? 50 mile hikes? Tiaras and princess dresses? Ritual tattoos? Naps for everyone? The candles won’t seem to stay up in the applesauce.

Once, long ago, we went to the Selwyn A&P Show and experienced the grandeur of the show life.

We recently took the Grizzly Bear to her first A&P show. The sights were, in a word, identical to two years ago. Sheep, cows, tractors, bad carnie food. And eel petting!

Yes, it’s a tractor pull.