So we journeyed northwest in the monsoons on Sunday to my nephew's graduation party. (That would be the Hubs' sister's son.) It was pretty much what I imagined it would be. There were many many people there, mostly, it seems, the parents' friends and neighbors, with a few of the kid's friends, and then family. My brother-in-law, I may have mentioned, is a character, and his parents, who must now be 80ish, very pleasant and friendly and stupid beyond belief. At least I have always thought so. But I found myself, most oddly, in a brief political discussion with his mother, and she not only knew what she was talking about, but agreed with me about the serious need to elect a new president. I was pleasantly surprised.
Anyway, my nephew is a nice enough boy, quite good-looking, but he never speaks. At least, not to us. He's not rude or anything, just very very quiet among family, or so it appears. One never knows, he did get off a zinger at Easter about something or other. He thanked us for the gift and this disappeared. His sister, 6 months older than my K, is also a bit of a character. Our revelation of the day yesterday is that she was wearing a sundress and has a big Japanese-character tattoo on one back shoulder. And here my girls have been so careful not to let their grandparents see their tattoos lest they get all bent out of shape about it! The time for revelation is at hand.
So the party was moved indoors, due to the weather; the SIL has a very charming house, a neo-Victorian, and she has nice taste in decorating, so it's very pleasant. We don't actually go there often, and I noticed once again that she has out in her family room/den a wooden rocking horse that her husband (he's quite handy with tools) had made for their kid when she an infant. Looked very nice there.
Hmmm. He actually made a wooden rocking horse for R first, for the Christmas when she was about 1 and a half, before the SIL was even expecting her first. He made R's a little small, because he didn't yet get that when you have kids and they are small, they will, in time, be bigger. But it's a great little toy, very well-made. It's been in my attic for years, but seeing the one at the SIL's yesterday, I thought, hey, I've got nice floors now, a decent looking living room. I decided to get Crndn and put him on display.
Ah, right. Crndn. At 1 and a half, R was speaking quite well, and when she saw the horse at Christmas, she gave it some kind of name. She gave it a different name every day thereafter, until her second birthday in March. That morning, I used a borrowed video-camera (this was 1983) and taped her just walking around, talking and stuff, as well as rocking on the horse. I watched the tape not long ago, in fact. I had asked her "What's your horsie's name today?" and she said "Crndn." That's how she said it; I wouldn't know another way to spell it. Up until then, the horse had been named Bob and Phil and other regular kind of names. "Oh," I said. "Crndn?" She repeated it, and from then on, that was its name, and still is.
So I rescued him from attic-land this morning and cleaned up and there he is. That's the new piece of furniture behind him.
--------------------------------------------------
I'm watching The Nanny
--------------------------------------------------
last ::
next
Sweet Sorrow - 06.12.2007
So ... - 12.19.2006
Christmastime Is Near - 12.18.2006
Fifteen Years - 12.17.2006
A Message From Our Sponsor - 12.16.2006
|
