Kisses and I love you

Bri is funny. She gives me these giant smooshie kisses. She holds onto both of my cheeks and smashes my face into hers until we are both laughing so hard she has to let go. Now if that doesn't help the day get better I don't know what would.

On another note, everyday we have a conversation that goes like this:
(all spoken in a happy yelling voice)
Me: Bri, I love you!
Bri: Okay!
Me: But I love you!
Bri: (exasperated) Okay!
Me: I love you!
Bri: (annoyed but giggling) I love you ewww! (translation: I love you too)

Oh the joys of having/being an almost 2 year old.

My grandpa and Atticus Finch

Heroes. The word conjures all sorts of ideas in peoples' heads, from Spider Man and Batman to firefighters and family pets. My hero has always been my grandfather. This may be partly due to the fact that he died just before I ate whatever it is that adolescents eat that make them go crazy, cynical, and good-for-nothing for about 10 years. Either way, my grandfather was and still is the Platonic Ideal. I know there was a bullet-proof cape under those pinstriped farmer's overalls, and that his Red Man chewing tobacco had magical properties. He could read the minds of strangers and kin alike, still raging thunderstorms, calm the most horrible of my grandmother's tirades, get any tractor unstuck from mud with his bare hands, and harvest more hay in one afternoon than all the other neighbors put together. In short, my grandfather had only enough flaws to keep him balanced somewhere between man and Titan. In my mind, that's the way it's always been, and it's the way it is to this day. So how is it that a fictional character created by a cantankerous deep South recluse is stepping into the same light as my grandpa? Simple. Atticus Finch and my grandpa are juxtapositions and cross references of one another. Shades and compliments. Sunrises and sunsets meeting in a blazing midday heat. The first time I read To Kill A Mockingbird, I felt a strange and warm familiarity when Atticus Finch was introduced. The more I got to know him through the pages, I thought Mrs. Harper Lee had been sneaking around my family tree, all the way to the top branches. Atticus is the perfect antagonist, the perfect gentleman. Next to my grandpa, he is the perfect role model as far as I'm concerned. So for those of you who weren't blessed enough to have my grandfather as your grandfather (and that's all but 3 of you), Atticus Finch will do fine for a sit-in. And if you've never picked up the novel To Kill A Mockingbird, do so soon. And read it on a porch swing on a hot summer day, if you can manage it.

www.cabq.gov
maggiesfarm.anotherdotcom.com

What date is it?

I can't believe summer is almost gone! Clint starts his new teaching job at Drake Middle on the 14th, Brianna is talking in sentences, sleeping in a big bed and we only have 9 weeks until the baby is due. By that time the leaves will be changing and snow will be on its way.

We have a garden in our back yard that is producing cucumbers, zucchini and tomatoes. So according to that all is well, and it is...busy but well.