Monday, July 26, 2010
Frasier, even in utero, was never still. Somersaults, thrown elbows, kicks, relentless hiccups...
Now that she's bipedal, she's always just short of running - all waking hours of the day. Today's trip to the airport was no exception. She climbed chairs, licked the windows, then sped-walked up and down the empty gate sections, pausing to flirt with the college girls glued to their cell phones who tossed her little smiles, then went back to solving the world's problems via text message.
On the plane, Fray was up, down, in the floor space, between us, in my arms, in the Dogtor's arms, eating, singing, chewing, reading, waving to the obese lady whose bottom and right arm ate up critical chair space - or, as per Fray requirements, "wiggle room." (Still, I felt kindness and sympathy for anyone brave enough to sit with us.)
Back in Vermont, I found myself absurdly thankful for our thirteen acres of baby runway. We put Fray down in the grass and let her go and go and go...we weeded the garden - checked on the chickens - fed the horse and goats - swam - (and found two new barn swallows in an old nest - round two for the swallows!) The dogs and cats followed us everywhere...
We are never still, any of us.