One of my favorite views of Seattle is from Kerry Park, cut into the side of Queen Anne hill, and adorned with the Changing Form sculpture by Doris Chase.
Doris was good friends with my grandmother, and I got to spend quite a bit of time with her, so I may be a little biased,
But I still think the sculpture is pretty cool,
and the perfect place from which to photograph the ever-evolving city I love,
as well as my ever-changing little girl.
I hate the wind, but Gem takes a different approach. She has a way of reminding me to look for another perspective.
Last week the wind was still cold, but it was also exhilarating.
Of course, being able to nuzzle into Daddy’s coat just makes it that much better.
I hope this made you smile.
I didn’t mind the snowstorm much at all. It was a minor inconvenience, combined with a bevy of benefits. My husband at home for a few extra days. Family play time in the snow. A little girl’s first snowman. Soup with grilled sandwiches. Hot chocolate (Gem would be sure to verify that her’s was “warm”). Days packed with guilt-free snuggle time and togetherness.
Until my internet went out. Then it got personal.
Oddly, up until I noticed the outtage, I’d spent little time online. But in the hours, minutes, and seconds that have creeped by since that devastating discovery, I’ve thought of little else. We are all safe and well. We have electricity, heat, water, stockpiles of food, and an ever-deepening wonderland of snow and ice outside. It doesn’t matter.
I’m not connected.
I cannot share my every passing thought on facebook. I can’t pin pictures of food I will never cook, and clothes I will never wear. And since we dropped cable in favor of using the internet for tv, we might even have to break out the boxes of dvds that have been gathering dust in the closet. Even my phone is on Roam.
I’m quite certain I’ll weather this trauma just fine, and I’ll try not to spend my time counting the moments till I can post this message. In the meantime, I hope you are all safe and sound, warm and dry, that your problems are more frivolous than substantial, and that the storm leaves your homes and loved ones unscathed.
It’s not her first snow, but perhaps the first she remembers.
She offers up snowballs as precious gifts, then tosses them up in the air like so much confetti, squealing and laughing as the snow tickles her face.
And when she catches a snowflake on her glove, she blows it away, and says “make a wish.”
I have no idea where she got that from.
She made her first snowman
And she set about playing as though it was her most important work
It is.
Even when seasoned with whimsy.
Sunday, she asked if Santa was going to come back, now that it snowed, so that he could have Christmas in the snow.
She still has the Christmas spirit.
Her favorite toys laid out on a piece of pretty wrapping paper
Carefully wrapped
and topped with a pretty bow…
Berry Christmas, Mommy!
presented with both hands and a proud, beaming smile
It’s not just her toys. She’s used this one piece of paper to gift me with a book, a deck of cards, a shoe, my cell phone, the remote, and a dirty fork. But she has discovered the joy of giving.
