A journalist observes life in the far north.
When everyone was gone and the house was quiet, I took a deep breath, decided to hell with the dishes and went to bed with the same happy feeling as at the end of Christmas Day. My belly was full and I was exhausted after a day of feeding and entertaining persons bearing gifts.
Some of Lucky’s best birthday presents were a homemade quilt, from Arthur, and a Jack-in-the-box, from Cedar. There were two birthday cakes. And I got a gift too. The Bottle Washing Fairy brought me a dozen orange roses, pointing out that it was a big day for me also.
One thing I will always remember about Lucky’s first birthday is that she is walking quite a bit. She is stiff and looks like a robot, but she is relying more and more on her feet to get around. Pretty soon crawling will be history. She has also figured out how to wedge her little body under the gate blocking the stairs.