And their first "child," who looks like a feline plot is in the making. I'd keep the cat away from the baby for a while, Celeste and Patrick, until you know what's going on in that furry head (as if you ever will).
Speaking of furry heads, Evelyn looks a lot like Celeste did when she was born: hirsute. People said Celeste looked like an Eskimo, though I'm pretty sure nobody who said that had ever seen an Eskimo baby.
Patrick was kind enough to email Evelyn's vital statistics to family and friends, facts I forgot to ask when I talked with the new mother: 6 pounds, 1 ½ ounces; 20 inches.
Seems about right to me. Celeste was in that ballpark, but then remained on the skinny side for several years of babyhood. We raised her from birth as a vegetarian. Her pediatrician was dubious about this.
That's how it was back in the early '70s—vegetarian unfriendly. Evelyn will be raised in 21st century Hollywood, a much more receptive environment for an alternative infant foodstyle. (Patrick, keep her away from those McDonald's burgers you love to sneak out and eat!)
Baby carriers sure have come a long way from how I remember them. You could make it through an earthquake in this model. Didn't think of that, though, when I chose to give these southern Californians one after perusing their online baby gift registry.
I haven't yet adjusted to my grandfather status. It'll probably take Evelyn Elizabeth saying "grampa," or whatever, for it to really sink in. At the moment, I don't feel as old as my new title implies.
This morning we were just about to head for a Fix Measure 37 rally at the state capitol when I noticed that dark smelly water was overflowing our laundry room floor drain, plus the downstairs toilet and shower. Not good.
A little over an hour later I was out in the dog yard, uncovering the access hatch to our septic tank at the behest of the Roto Rooter guy. For a grandfather, my digging in the wet clay soil was pretty darn impressive, if I have to pat me on the back myself.
The Roto Rooter team saved our bacon tofu. But not in time for us to make the rally. Laurel's sign-making went for naught. Might as well get some use of it via this post.
(She was uncharacteristically photo-shy, not having had an opportunity to prettify herself today what with all the clogged drain excitement).