Close to Nowhere

Bits and pieces

• You can be sure you’re going to have a bad day when you stop at the top of the driveway to adjust your seat belt over your heavy coat because it’s freezing outside and you glance down and realize you have your pants on inside out.

I knew Monday that Tuesday was going to be a “bad hair” day. The temperature dropped way down, almost to freezing, and I don’t do cold well. I get cold in the summer at work and keep a wrap and sweater there so I can bundle up while everyone else is comfortable.

• I stay cold because I don’t have enough oxygen in my blood. As the late Pop and his late grandmother used to say — it’s thin blood. I yawn a lot too.

• Nov. 11, Veterans Day, is also my oldest granddaughter and her husband’s wedding anniversary. This past Sunday they decided to just do stuff they never get to do with an infant and a toddler.

I was delighted with their plan, as I was the designated babysitter.

Ruby June, who is almost three months old now, is still in the “angel” baby stage. She smiles and is beginning to coo and she recognizes me and is happy to see me. Mostly, she just lays in her cradle or on the oversized ottoman or I hold and feed her. Babies are easy.

Toddlers on the other hand, are anything but easy. Shepard will be 2 in December and he is already practicing for his “terrible twos.” He’s doing a pretty good job too. I can laugh at him because I can also send him home, where they have to keep him.

He’s a charmer though. Right now, our favorite thing to do is for him to run at me with his arms open (my arms are always open for babies of any age) and he thumps up against my chest and I hug him really hard and we both grunt and groan with the effort of hugging and it’s fun. He can do that most of the afternoon.

Unless, of course, he’s meddling. He takes the glass top off a big jar I have in the floor. He carries it and the big brass spittoon that sits beside it (normally) around the living room and I find them in the oddest places.

His dad installed a gate for me in the opening between the living room and dining room/ kitchen area. We had to order to get one big enough. Now, when boxed in with something he’s not supposed to have, he runs to the gate and tosses “whatever” over into the dining room.

Mom and Dad had pizza and crawfish soup and went antiquing. But I had the better time!

Holly Springs South Reporter

P.O. Box 278
Holly Springs, MS 38635
PH: (662) 252-4261
FAX: (662) 252-3388
www.southreporter.com

Web Archive