There were no flowers–not even of any kind– but the weather was so *warm* that we went to an Arboretum anyways. It really was strange, about the flowers. *We’ve* got a perfectly decent patch of crocuses up. Chad did not go; he was and is quite ill, poor chap, but he bears it with such fortitude– “I’m sick but happy,” says he with the wane, sweet smile of an invalid– that one hardly realizes the graveness of his malady.
Let it be noted, however, that she did not scream as much as she did formerly, and that her terror was only that of a “typical” three or four year old who has a fright of dogs. It must look strange to see such childish behaviour in a lanky eight-year old, esp. one who doesn’t speak, but the dogs, though numerous, only made her averagly frightened; her heart-rate soon returned to normal: she would take a path that contained a dog, if she wanted to go that way: she did not top high-c with her screams– rather, she merely “eeked” like a normal child: towards the end she wouldn’t even climb Daddy, and would just keep him between her and the dog. And she had no nightmares.
I love taking pictures of people taking pictures. It’s such a lark.
Katya was unusually photogenic (Read:still)
Our last stop was the syrup house. Nothing new for me, here, but we tried to introduce Katya to the concept of making maple syrup. The free samples helped, I’m sure.
As a closing word, allow me to include a picture of Katya running, at mother’s request:
Now, what’s special about this picture is that it’s a *normal* run; both toes are pointing forward, and it’s coordinated. She used to run like a turkey with a broken leg; both legs flying inefficiently off to the side, with more up-and-down motion than forward. It was… weird. Sometime we’ll have to find a video or picture. Dr. Carson (her neurosurgeon) said that it was the result of brain damage, and might never resolve, even with surgery. He said that if it did resolve, it would be the “icing on the cake.” Well, our cake is getting nicely iced!