over hills, mr. underhill

(after breaking to put the girls to sleep...)

I think that John should someday tell you all about his wonderful Grandma Mildred Heck (the very one after whom Millie is named). She was as interesting as her name, and then some.

Anyway, thanks to her great love of Barbies and collecting dolls in general, I have spent a large portion of this past week with my thoughts and tasks wrapped around Barbie's impossible frame while selling some of Grandma Heck's vintage collection over the Ebay circuit. People behave unbelievably foolishly sometimes, and a few have exchanged a limb for one of these plastic pieces draped (or not-so-draped) in costumes of their choice.

One desperate man in Scotland looking for the perfect birthday gift paid top dollar for a Scottish Barbie doll. I suppose it's not enough just to be immersed in a rich culture; one has to collect cheap American imitations of the same.

(But to be fair, the Scottish Barbie looks pretty darn cool.)

So, my double-deep stack of books and too-new guitar await as I tap out descriptions of Barbie's unique marvels.

No longer. I'm off.

bobby fischers in training. (oh, for a board of bone!) 

it was worth a shot. 

gypsy in training. (oh, for a painted gypsy wagon!) 

after a run to the post office to ship grandma heck barbie dolls off to scotland, i remembered that i never fulfilled my promise of new glasses unveiling. so here my peepers are before (note the harried look in them, the flyaway hair, and the tasteful positioning of an orange balloon by my left ear)....... 

and after.... a school marm. and millie toasts my new glasses. (a school marm with puns a plenty.)  

yep. i take my cue from leah to announce that, since this past Lord's Day, annika has been walking more than she crawls. she's delighted with herself now that she's using those feet for more than a handful of steps at a time, even making the arduous trek from bathroom to living room upright.  

she got stuck up to her waist at one point. luckily, her belly's roundness enabled her to roll right out. 

nothing like a father teaching his daughter how to rake snow properly... 

THE $12 FOLLY...

is, unfortunately, unlike Seward's Folly.

No hidden blessing lies latent in paying 12 dollars for a new USB cable, unless that blessing is showing faraway friends and family these choice photos.

[I'm off to pluck my guitar discordantly to Annika. Thank goodness she can't vocalize her protests in formal language yet.]

see below