Welcome to my home, Grace Catherine!

This photos are totally out of order, but sometimes that can be fun.

We spent plenty of time with Baby Grace: looking at her, babbling with her, stroking her. Nicole went upstairs into the Study to nurse her, only the second person ever to use the study. Sarah had taken her laptop up there to write.

The Study used to be Dan's room. He told us where his bed had been and his Ethan Allen desk, which had been my brother David's, and is now in the lower level holding my underwear, warm PJs, w/my paint supplies on top.

Everything is recycled until is reaches the curb.



Dan particularly liked my Selectric typewriter, which he remembered from the Old Days at the apartment. We lifted up the hood so he could see how the ball element worked. He was fascinated. By now, Scott had joined us and, as a mechanic, enjoyed with Dan figgering out how it worked.

The Selectric was the pinnacle of typewriters, invented by IBM and then copied by lesser firms such as Remington, but then the computer came along.

Dan was surprised I still use my typewriter: to address envelopes or to fill out forms.

Beautiful day for a block-long garage sale. Dan Deming hosts his stash in the front. Anything you want, Mom, just take it! I took four books (one of which was mine anyway) to stowe inside my backpack for 'episodic reading.' IOW, when you get stuck somewhere, you can just take it out and begin reading it anywhere.

I brought over two items I desperately wanted to get rid of. Tried pawning off at my Self-Esteem Group but their esteem was so high they said No. I found two young girls perusing the sale and they took the computer speakers and the set of votive candles that one of our Guest Speakers left at the church.

From far away, it looks like Grace Catherine is sleeping on a huge piece of matzah. Actually it's the quilt my friend Jonatha Johnson sewed for the baby.

Why did I photograph Al Wipplinger, owner of Village Hardware Store, Hatboro PA?

B/c I had my camera and it was nudging me to take his photo. He stood there so proud behind his counter. I told him I'd followed him from when he was at the Village (Dead) Mall. "You had so many interesting things out front," I said. My kids would be in the pet store, stroking fur behind bars. "No, you may not have a puppy."

Al worked at a bank before he bought the mall store from a retiring man.

We talked about the importance of supporting local small businesses. One thing I always do is ask people's opinions. No, not on abortion issues (yes yes yes). Not on whether Obama is doing a doing job (g-r-o-a-n) but on what other Hatboro shops he likes.

The Korner Kitchen, he said. Very good food.

Okay, so Scott and I will try it again. And give it another chance. You can't do this with everything. If you don't like your psychiatrist or therapist, do not go back! (she's always preaching. she can't help herself.)

Time to go home, Grace Catherine. But didn't we have a great time visiting Bubby?

What? You didn't like her decorations of Bags on the Wall from her trip to Spain and Italy? Just pretend you did, little Grace. You'll learn about these things in time.

Her hi-tek baby seat. Like most babies, she loves riding in the car.

Hey, if you're driving your car, please be careful not to squash a squirrel. I've seen a couple of squashed ones due to the carelessness of speeding drivers. Your average squirrel will stop and think before crossing the street. Usually he will stay on the side of the road. Just give him a second or two to think.

Why don't we domesticate the squirrel? We know that cats and dogs hung around our yurts when we were flexing our muscles and learning to be the sophisticates we are today, ten thousand years later. Now it's time for squirrels to be our next fun pet.

I'd like you to meet my pet squirrel: Earl.

Right now - and this fiction, so bear w/ me - Earl is outside under Scott's new birdfeeder. He's very smart and no longer jumps up trying to get into the squirrel-proof cage, so like Ruth gleaning on Boaz's fields, Earl simply waits for the sparrows to spill their seeds on the ground. (Oooh, sounds like onanism from the Bible.)

He looks so adorable eating, twitching all over, and then when I call him, why he runs right up the steps and into the house. He jumps up on the lap, in fact, right now, he's jumped up while I'm typing (shades of Dan's old cat Blank) and lets me rub his face and ears. Slowly, he's gotten used to me so I can do this. But, it was a real slow process. He was, well, squirrely in the beginning.

I haven't figgered out which tree he lives in but after the leaves fall off in two months, I'll to find his home. Hmmm, why kind of nice present could I get him?

Any ideas?