The Big House Party

The llama named Lawana on my keyboard -- what could be more symbolic of a young grandchild in the house? But the house has been full. First dotter and GD arrived, then came the Niece from Memphis and her dotter. What resulted? A lot of plain but pleasant hanging out together.

A GD discovering the cartwheel -- almost.

And getting decorated into clown mode by the Niece.

Dancing with the Memphis cousin.

And a lot of R*E*A*D*I*N*G! Dotter ordered the book, BTW.

There was a visit and dinner party for my Mom and her grandchildren.

All of this activity took place when the dotter wasn't frantically making final preparations for flying herself, GD, two cats and three turtles to her new home in Alaska. Who knows if she would have made her plane had the Niece from Memphis not been here to help! The dotter's entourage has arrived safely in Alaska, tomorrow night the Niece and her dotter do Othello, and we're visiting an antique auto show and another resale shop during the day. Great fun, wonderful company. A house party to beat all house parties!

A Child's Eye View: Feet

The daughter bought a new digital camera the other day. What to do with the older model? Pass it along to her 5+ year old, of course. And so at a recent gathering of friends, the little one snapped a whole raft of pictures. Interesting how big and menacing grown-up people look from the perspective of a diminutive kid! (As a shorty myself, I have periodically climbed up a few inches to see how things appear to those taller than I...)

Then someone suggested that the GD take pictures of something lower down. Feet, for example. She proceeded to take pictures of every foot that was present. Here they are:

So what did I learn? That thongs are popular with the ladies in summer, of course. And not much in the way of heels.

And that men wear their trousers longer than women do. This is news to me. Too bad, too, since I'm sure that there was at least one pair of cowboy boots present but unseen.

However, an interesting collection of styles. And certainly a different perspective on a friendly gathering. The kid is not doing badly in the photo biz, either.

Another Visitor

So the daughter & SIL needed some concentrated work time for the house they are trying to sell before the Alaska move. Result: a weekend with the little one. It was hot. She was constantly on the go. Whew!

What is there for a little girl to do at GrannyJ's? Since she didn't really care for all of those monsters I drew for her (example below) and I didn't have any coloring books, I decided to consult The Google -- who else. Site recommended: coloring.com. A winner.

Of course, one can always put a kid to work if it looks like fun. Whitewashing fences, for example. Not having any fences, we made do with watering my pot garden. Oops, I mean my plants in pots. Naturally, she decided that she, too, needed to be hosed down. From there, it was a short step to fun with a spray bottle on the back porch!

Next door to feed the fish; thank you, good neighbors! We read poems, watched Shirley Temple play The Little Princess at least twice (granddaughter learned an old music hall ditty from that movie) and generally had a busy time of it. I was worn out by the time her parents arrived for retrieval; they, by the way, had a wonderful dinner for two the previous night! Good for them, good for me.

Note: Updating my recent tagging of 8 people to post 8 fascinating facts about themselves: #3 has complied. Go visit Desert Cat, who actually copped out by asking his Daisy Cat to make up the list! Friend k has politely declined, so that leaves four folk -- you know who you are, get with it, guys!

Prima Ballerina

In this case, the prima refers to first-time. As you may recall, I went away this weekend to be a proper granny. This included taking pictures of how you turn a little 5-year-old into an absolute, ageless glamour-puss with a heavy touch of stage make-up. Scary!

Before we take off for the performance -- a proper ballet pose. With a difference. Tutu plus cowboy boots, a gift from Dad for a little one who is absolutely head over heels in love with horsies.

The theme for this year's recital -- the USA in its many variations, plus a touch of patriotism.

Grandchild's number was, like most, short. No time to get positioned away from that interfering head on the left!

I was impressed by the attention to detail with this production -- up to and including a place for proud fathers (or moms or grandparents) who forgot to buy posies for their dancing princesses (I may have counted as many as three male types up on the stage out of maybe 75 or more.)

Our little one with her flowers.

What to do about the slippers? Not meant for any surface but the dance floor; on the other hand, next fall when lessons start again, what size will she be wearing. But kicking off the shoes is standard operating procedure for her in any event.

An easy solution.

Grandchildren!

A week ago, my daughter and her daughter came down for an overnight. I got to see Gdaughter's snazzy new nighty; I'd call it the cat's pajamas, except that it isn't PJs.

The real cat kept his distance from both the Gdaughter, her cat's pajamas and her shoes. That's odd -- usually he smooches shoes.
The next morning the 5-year-old's presence spread throughout the house. Stuffed animals on the futon...

...and the ice cream carton collection, out of its box...

...quickly taking up even more space as it is scattered.

The visit was called short -- time to repack the cartons.

But the little one took time to draw the head of her absolutely most favorite of all animals -- a horse. And taped it to one of the doors, of course, since the fridge is already occupied.

Here's another view of the drawing. She recently spelled her first word the other day -- P-N-Y, pony. I'm sure that H-R-S-E will be next.

Here she is, dressed up to go back to the high country, complete with another stuffed bear and the horsie.

Postscript: a few days later, I was taking pictures in the living room. Max cat spotted the box of ice cream cartons. Ah, a box. Just the thing for a cat to get cozy in. Result: the carton mess was quickly back.

Some Assembly Required

What, you ask, did I do up in the high country over Christmas? For one, I ate magnificently, thanks to a SIL who loves to cook. Stuff like roast duck. And, secondly, I was witness to that new American Christmas ritual, the final assembly of the season's toys, once they're opened. I've been fortunate not to suffer this indignity in the past and this year I was a mere observer.

On the other side of the family, my youngest granddaughter has one very indulgent grandmother! Look at that box -- it's bigger than the little girl.

A battery-operated Barbie Jammin' Jeep. In purple and pink. Suitable for ages 3+?? That's what it says.

Whatever. It took a helluva lot of wrapping paper to keep the contents a surprise.

Once the battery was plugged in to charge (at least 16 hours), it was time for the serious instructions.

With two to interpret, the finishing process proceeded apace. Which is to say, slowly.

The new car owner watched carefully as her vehicle was assembled.

And had suggestions, while she was about it.

Not only were there assorted plastic pieces to attach to the body, there were the decals to jazz things up. Even the decals had to be applied in the right order!

Oops! A critical part was missing. Fortunately, it was in that huge box. At the bottom.

Screwing in the pink seat module. Note the seat belts.

So where does this piece go? Perhaps on the steering wheel? Nope, that would set a bad example for the younger generation.

The granddaughter finally has her vehicle, complete to clock and radio. The latter is, amazingly enough, tuned to NPR. I didn't know that Barbie was aware of NPR.