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Denver [Change Location]

Blog Entry 24 of 24 shades of gray.
Do you ever wonder… Why sheep don’t shrink when it rains? I honestly do. Here you’ll find no rhyme (unless I’m feeling poetic), reason (unless I have one) or consistency (unless I accidentally post the same thing twice) in my cyber contributions. I’ve long ago accepted defeat to my arch-nemesis Punctuality, so expecting postings on a structured basis is discouraged. I do, however, invite you to check in periodically as I write about things that pique my interest while prowling the city. As a photographer, I embrace that nothing is ever just black and white and this blog may also be frequently used as an outlet for pictorial expression. If you have a thought or two of your own bouncing around the old noggin, I recommend starting up your own blog and giving everyone the no-holds-barred account of life in your corner.

The sea cow cometh


Welp, I'm finally skinnier than my beanpole older sister, Sara.

Of course, this miracle is in no way due to me sticking to a structured exercise and diet plan or even her adding to her waistline by drinking excessive amounts of brew. In fact, she's not drinking any brew at all.

Turns out, her hubby knocked her up. On purpose of all things. Thinking about all that responsibility gives me a slight anxiety attack - I probably wouldn't remember to even feed my cat if she didn't meow in my face every morning.

So at this moment, I'm officially an aunt to what my brother-in-law says, with its head stump and arm sprouts, probably looks like a manatee. Personally, I prefer the term sea cow.

I can't see any way around it, I'm pretty excited. I'm looking forward to buying the sea cow shirts that say things like "This is how I roll" with a picture of a stroller on it and "I cry when ugly people hold me."

My one misgiving about the whole thing is that I'm so far away. It's going to be wild to see my sister at Christmas, looking like she swallowed a bowling ball. With my brother-in-law's family all living in town with them, I'm nervous that I'll just be that weird aunt that lives in Colorado who the sea cow never sees anyway.

It seems like I'm going to have my work cut out for me to turn into the cool aunt who sends sweet gifts and flies the sea cow out for visits.

Hmmm, maybe a first step would be for me to stop referring to the kiddo as "the sea cow" once it has all of its limbs. I guess I could try, but no promises ... it's pretty addicting.

Congratulations, Sara and Joe!

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