Blue Hawks from the Sea

Seahawks game face. Dueling with Uncle Matt. Gevalia raspberry chocolate blend brewing.

Sunday morning blues. Not a half-bad life.

Sitting in Front of Mirror in the Rain

Yesterday, Magsley started sitting.

Very noncommittal. Oh, you guys noticed? I've been able to do this forever. Just been waiting for some space.

Yaks away. Probably has more vocal inflections than I've amassed in three decades.

Astounding, sweet, chirpy little voice that makes it unbelievably difficult to be in a foul temper after hearing it. Like people with martyr complexes must have felt after meeting Helen Keller. Just tough to return to the down-in-the dumps framework.

Was a socialist though. Almost as bad as eating pork, or ostrich.

Punchline of Unkie Metal Bobby

Her sense of humor continues to evolve. I suppose welcoming my daughter with a "Hi! Give Dad a big kiss!" and flying her over my head was not the brightest idea, particularly after a lengthy breakfast.* Being the butt of a joke is never the optimal position, but I have to admit I was rather proud that she displayed such a sophisticated sense of comedic timing. Buster and Charlie woulda been proud.

The quizzical look on her face might be the result of my having to shriek at her. Something I hate to do, but have to do with some regularity. Shrieking is quite underrated. Try it.

*milk
___


Uncle Bobby, or "Unkie Bobby," as she likes to call him. Though technically it's a child-of-a-cousin thing, which would make her his, uhh, ... oh forget it.

Uncle Bobby.

More on last weekend later.

Bobby is heavily recruiting her for his side project, an experimental death-klezmer sextet featuring kazoos, rattles and shop equipment.