It's been a sad few days of adjustment. We've never lived in this house without Rusty (in fact, he came with the house . . . yes, he was listed in the purchase agreement), so I keep going to the back door to let im inside, or catch myself pulling the door extra shut when we go out in the back yard so he doesn't nudge it open. It's all . . . strange. Sad, of course, but he was in pain and we knew this time was coming, so not a surprise. But still . . . strange. I guess the strangeness shouldn't be a surprise either. I still occasionally get up to call my dad in the middle of a football game. Almost eight years later.
We don't do much for Mardi Gras anymore, since Ella and I aren't up for the noise or the crowds, and really, I can do without more plastic beads and drunken strangers at this point in my life. But we're moving on to happier things this week. Like making sauerkraut. Seriously, there's rotting cabbage on my countertop. Not sure how I got here, but it sure does make me happy.
Also, I stumbled upon this sweet picture in my files this weekend:
I don't think I've ever seen it before. That's Ella, by the way. That was probably six years ago. Someone took a bunch of pictures at an egg hunt and gave us all copies, and I must have quickly transferred the ones of us thinking I would look at them later and forgot about them. Hmm, that sounds about right.
And here's another one from a little friend's birthday party recently:
I'm usually the one behind the camera (or hiding from it), so I don't have many pictures of me with the girls. It definitely put a smile on my face when I saw this one.
Here's to more Happy Days.