Sooo happy

I was in Concord for a few days, mostly trying to finish up the painting in the attic conversion. (Which is looking pretty good, finally.) On Sunday, I was enticed to the hills. H chose Belknap, which has an old fire tower (B loves fire towers), and is a mountain we've wandered up before. Here I am there with B in October, 2009...

...and here we are, low on the mountain, yesterday.

She and I have a little ritual, in which I say, “I love you about...seven.” She says, “No, M.” I say, “Well, maybe 12.” She says, feigning petulance, “No, M. “You love me soooo much!” I say, “Sooo much? How much is that?” To which she has been answering something like, “It’s a lot, lot, lot.” But yesterday she had a new answer: “It’s beyond any number. It’s infinity!”

Which shows you what a couple of weeks of school can do. Anyway, I love her a lot, lot, lot.

B also took a picture of me with the first little girl I loved soooo much. (I love Jasper the Wonderdog, too, but somewhere short of the end of numbers.)

And here I am almost passing out with infinite delight.

Family weekend away

We’re in Freeport, Maine, to support H and A, who are racing in the Lobsterman Tri tomorrow morning. Earlier, we were all crossing the street in slightly wet and wooly conditions when our umbrella got blown into premature decrepitude. B: “That certainly was a strong gust of wind.” Later she counted to six for us in Spanish (I think this is a Montessori thing and I know my grandfather would have been very proud indeed, though for him “cinco” was pronounced “thinco”). Of course, she also flipped out at bedtime, threw a minor fit,  pulled her jammies off and stomped around uttering maledictions. So Miss Crankypants is still in there, along with that funny smart person. By and large, though I admit to a certain empathy with Miss Crankypants, I prefer the funny smart person.

I’m pretty sure that’s who this is, doing something incisive and nuanced with numbers.