Sheep Go To Heaven

Oh, this poor neglected blog. Just as soon as I start to pay more attention to it, and it gets its hopes up, they are dashed again by my dastardly capriciousness. That would be a good name for a band, except that it would be a challenge for many people to spell it. That would probably cut into online sales, since the searches would always fail.

So, what's up in the world of Hambone, you ask? Well, he's just starting to be a crawling machine. Grandma visited last night, and she got to witness some of the mobility firsthand. The secret to motivating him to move is to put something tantalizing like a dog toy or address book on the floor, and he'll scoot right over to it. He is content to have his toys delivered.

Still no teeth. I think he's just making sure they all come in at once, to save the hassle of spreading out the job. A more pessimistic person might think he's waiting for the long drives to and from Oklahoma next week. Not me, though; to me, the mouth is half-full.

We drove down to Racine on Sunday and got to meet Madison, and she is just a little darling. Jack tried to teach her the benefits of bellowing until you get what you want, but she seemed uninterested. We'll see how long that lasts.

We've all got Gary in our thoughts today. Hopefully, all will be well.