She

I've been playing with some of my recent photos.

Adding texture, rounding corners, and what better subject to use than My Girl? The one who ties my brain up in knots:

AL: I am your girl, and you are my pin-cess.
Me: Well okay, but I'm really your mother.
AL: What I called?
Me: You are my daughter. And I am your mother.
AL: You are my muvver. And I am Daddy's muvver.
Me (concentrating): Yes. No, wait - what? Daddy's your father.
AL: And Nat is my boy and Doe-feff is my boy and you are my girl. And I am your farver and your pin-cess.
Me: Okay.

Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes, rounding corners, adding texture, blurring it all up around the edges ...
That was a bit too much, wasn't it? But then, SHE is a bit too much as well, isn't she?

AL: 'Can I have some yoghurt?'
Me: 'I'll need to hear some manners.'
AL: 'Please? That's good manners. Now can I have some yoghurt?'

Texture, as wild and varied as each day with my little girl. The texture below is the shot of my lawn that I posted yesterday. The rose is a "Raspberry Tiger."

Little Anna-Lucia. The girl who sometimes calls us Daddy-Cia, Mummy-Cia, Natty-Cia and Doe-feff-Cia.

The girl who has watched Wallace & Grommit so many times now that she sometimes says of the moon, "Dey fought it was made of cheese - it made of Moon Wock!! Silly ol Gommit. Silly ol Wowiss."

The girl who, when asked what Joseph was doing, saw that he was looking at toys dangling above him and replied, "Yooking at he dollies."

If she melts my heart much more, it will dribble down into my toes. Is that why at the end of the day, your feet get a little puffy? Or is that just during pregnancy?