4/15/19

Mt. Rubidoux.

Last week I was out in California for a dietetic conference - 2.5 days of talking about amino acids nonstop (jealous??). The first morning, I stumbled upon Mt. Rubidoux on a run, and had to go back for more. The views were absolutely stunning, and the weather perfect.

What struck me most: on Easter Sunday each year, the community holds a sunrise service at the top of the mountain. They have since 1905. The very thought takes my breath away.

4/9/19

Hugo Henry, 3 years old.

Me: 3 is the best. Can you stay 3? 
Hugo: I can't. 
Me: Why? 
Hugo: I just have to be 4. And then 5. 

4/5/19

Spring.

We've nearly turned the corner here. Warm enough now (most days) for early morning runs and walks outside, for evening drinks in the courtyard after work. Winter was a blur - Easter is right around the corner, and Hugo has an eye for those giant jelly beans. At three, I'm not sure what could compete.

4/1/19

A first manicure.

On Saturday, I took my niece out for her first manicure. She was so nervous at first, clutching my hand and her "snuggy blankie", but every time I looked over, she flashed the biggest grin. Afterward she told me that she wished we'd gotten the same color, and I felt the same way. With matching middle names, matching nails only feels appropriate.

3/29/19

Home Depot.

Where we spend time and money - on this occasion, buying shades for the kitchen and Maisie's room, an organizer for the closet. Any normal Saturday: fixing things and building them and cleaning them and organizing them. The keeping of a life.

3/25/19

Charleston before dawn.

I had a quick work trip to Charleston last week. On Friday, I spent 8 hours presenting, so I woke up in the wee hours of the morning for a run to get my blood moving. She's otherworldly at 5:30am - just the whispering of palm fronds to keep me company.

3/18/19

Maisie Austen, 10 months.

Our Maisie girl: all sunshine and hot temper and curiosity. At 10 months (nearly 11!), she is eager for everything - her brother's action figures, new foods, the tiny circular knob next to the toilet seat. She sits decidedly, with one foot out and one tucked behind her. She yells loudly, and has a knack for getting her way. I have loved her since she was the size of a poppy seed. Somehow, she finds new ways to grow my heart, still.