On Monday, Mira was sick. It's not often that she willingly puts herself down for a nap, but that day, she did. Horrid cough, tired and hot little girl.

On Tuesday, she felt better. The cough lingered. And happy Orion looked like this at work:

On Wednesday, Mira was feeling even better. But Orion had inherited the congestion and fever.
Today is Thursday. He isn't warm, but he's still feeling cruddy. His voice is still a squeak, and he snuffles as he breathes. He's eating better, though, and hopefully his sickness arc will continue to approximately follow Mira's so that tomorrow he will feel mostly well again (and return to his joyful babbling that he can't cobble together today through his sore throat).

This morning Torrin was holding a CD and the light reflected on Mira's face, creating a nice rainbow effect:

Here's to hoping that Orion is just as sunny tomorrow as Mira is today.


Claro, que Claire.

She has only been here since December 31st. She started school here on January 21. She came from a town smaller in number than the middle school she's now attending--and there are 12 others of similar size in this district.

No matter. Hastily she ascended to the top of the heap. Number one on the girls A team, in bands, choruses, and AP classes.

She's gorgeous, too--looking semi-scandalous in her skinny jeans without trying. Already amidst the he-wants-to-ask-me-out drama of eighth grade even in this new territory. The type of drama I mostly avoided merely by existing on a smaller social scale, even though I grew up here, accustomed to the crowds. She's not used to homely homeboys whistling and uttering utter nonsense as she strolls past. I'm trying to figure out if the trials and tribulations of the Popular Kids will serve her better than the hyjinks of the not-quite-outcasts. I'm both proud of her and bewildered. How did she grow up so fast?

My little 13 year old sister, taller than me, full of potential...such a loaded word, potential. Potentially amazing, potentially disastrous. Potent. Potency.

Whatever it is, she's got it.


More Mutilation

So, the refried beans can was very scary.

Indeed, this situation is similarly grave.

What kind of product origin message is this to put on a package? What company is so cavalier in its flippancy?

Why not just print, MADE SOMEWHERE? MAYBE ON THIS PLANET, MAYBE NOT? I'll tell you. It's the same kind of company that mutilates poor, innocent bears.

A strange bag of gummy bears, that one was.


bikin' bear baby

Orion loved his first bicycle ride.
For those observant folks out there...there's a Festiva in the background. That one is #9 in the Official Festiva Project; 27 total Festivas have been documented to date.