Sunday, March 23, 2008

I Heard Somebody Say That It Would Never Snow Again, In England

Here's a quick round up of a few recent Olivia paparazzi photos:


This was taken in the kitchen earlier this week. Olivia had stolen the wind-up torch and was trying to keep it from us and consequently was a pain in the bum to photograph. She kept peering around the end of the playpen, but wouldn't show herself fully. This is one of the few where she did.

She loves anything vaguely electrical. Telephones, TV remote, torches; much more fun than toys, at any rate.

I like her shirt. It reminds me of the sort of thing you might expect to see a member of Pink Floyd or Procul Harem wearing circa 1968.


This is a new item of nightwear. It looks like a cute baby criminal outfit, so K___ grabbed a shot of Olivia behind the baby gate. It hasn't really got a convict number on it - I Photoshopped her birthday onto the pic.


This and the next photo were taken just this morning. As we woke about six thirty, there was a steady flurry of snow coming down, and the air had that peculiar stillness to it. By the time we got out to The Paddock, a little park over the road from the house, much of the snow had already melted, and our road was just slush, but there was enough for her to enjoy. There was snow the year she was born, when she was about a month old, but this is the first time she's been able to appreciate it.


You can't see Olivia's shoes in either of these pics. Grandma turned up on the doorstep this morning, brandishing a brand new pair of bright red wellies with buzzy bees emblazoned on the sides. We got Olivia suited up, putting her into layer upon layer of clothes until she resembled the Michelin Man or a little fat astronaut sans helmet, and an extra layer of socks (pink, naturally) to keep her feet warm. I pulled the boots on and tried to get her to stand. She keeled over. Checking her wellies, I realised her heels weren't down onto the soles properly. Thinking it must be the extra socks, we removed them and tried again. Olivia was placed onto the floor where she proceeded to collapse, very gently, and most amusingly in slow motion. Try as we could, her heels were not going down properly and in the end, we settled for some ordinary shoes with a thick sole. It meant the bottoms of her jeans got damp, even through her over-trouser things, but at least she could stand up.

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