FarmWife's oldest human child is getting terribly tall. She's almost FarmWife-like in her appearance, so much so that I saw her coming tonight and screamed "FaaaaaaarmWi—oh. Nevermind." My aborted bray, transcribed in Mulish, went something like this: "Wheeeeeee . . . HUH. Phllbbt" when it should have gone "WheeeeHeeeeHeeeHeeeeHeeeaaahahahahahaaaaa!" A minor distinction, but it was enough to cause FarmWife's child to erupt in laughter and FarmWife, at a distance, to chuckle. Oh, and then to do what I had wanted all along—to come out, arms full, to give me her love and her dried grasses.