Grandfathered for a Month

Late post today as apparently some over achieving young stud with a back hoe decided to excavate a little too closely to where the fiber optic cable that serves as the trunk line for the northern side of Worcester used to be located. I say “used to be” because that effectively knocked out the entire internet and a sizable portion of the phone and cable TV for this side of the city. I hope that young hero had a large insurance policy. It did point out, fairly effectively, just how dependent business operations have become on the internet.

Yesterday marked my first month’s anniversary as an official grandfather. I know that I’ve used this platform to wax fairly emphatically on my granddaughter’s obvious perfection so today might be a saccharine overdose. As you can see from the accompanying pictures she remains the picture of health and beauty that have marked her first month of existence. Her mother reports she’s up to six hours of sleeping at night. All parents will remember fondly the first complete night’s sleep an infant achieves; ranks right up there with first steps in my book. While she hasn’ slept through the night yet she’s evidently making progress.  

The toughest part of this Christmas will be the distance separating the California contingent from the rest of us. Last year this was due to the holiday falling so closely to their move west and this year the granddaughter’s lack of age makes travel problematic. While the preceding year was tough, the granddaughter added to the equation increases the pain level geometrically. I’m already looking forward to next year when she should be acquiring a taste for toys! I plan on going fairly overboard. I’m told that’s a job requirement for grandparents.

The Christmas lights didn’t seem to burn as bright last night without the Favorite Panamanian at my side. That problem is in the midst of rectifying itself as she is on the road south from Maine from her ministrations with the fellow musquetera. I’m hoping to grab enough time at lunch to return home and run the vacuum around a little since Buddy has been overly generous with his hair donations over the past couple days. I swear that it qualifies as a miracle that dog isn’t bald with all the hair he sheds.

I did get a chance to catch the hockey game last night where the Bruins finally beat that personification of evil from Montreal. This team in growing on me, showing some fight that was sadly lacking from last year’s edition. Now if they can only figure out how to win home games, we should be all set.

She Met Some Other Members of her Father's Band

A quick side note, I received a very nice message from none other than Lawrence Block himself yesterday. He shared my feelings about my finishing the Scudder novels and claimed to have enjoyed the reviews he read. It kind of made my day.

Today’s selection of perfection photographed in California:

A Little Overboard Grandpa

Talking with her Dad

Stylin

One Month and Already Rocking