I like to buy pants in advance. There’s always that day when, suddenly, none of the pants fit.

I took out a new pair of pants. Akiva put on the shirt and tie to celebrate.

Martin reads to Akiva.

Iris reads to herself.

Both of them passed their karate belt test

and lost a tooth

on the same day!

The silver tooth is the 12-year molar that Iris broke when she was five,

in the horrible sled crash where she broke her leg and Akiva smashed his head.

It is probably true that most people who enjoy traditional board games have heard of Sorry.

It is probably true that most people who enjoy traditional board games have not heard of Traffic Jam.

Were it not for the distinguished mid-century artwork and the fact that it has cars, roads and street signs,

we all would probably be ignorant of Traffic Jam. Some games have little worth remembering.

Pop is my grandfather on my mother’s side. Mom says we called him Pop because she called him Pop so Cate called him Pop and we followed suit. There was still no other Pop in our lineage when my kids came along, so I saw no reason to refer to him as anything other than Pop. Thus, my kids are the 3rd generation to refer to my mother’s father as Pop. Like many owners of a Y-chromosome, Pop was good at napping. Although he was very tall, he napped on a very short couch. His knees would hang over one arm rest and his head would rest on the other. I’m certain my father napped on the couch. He can nap anywhere. Here is Martin napping on the couch. Akiva doesn’t nap yet; he’s too young.

Iris needed encouragement to stay seated in order to focus on school work.

I got a kitten to hold her down.

In the painting now known as American Gothic, artist Grant Wood was inspired to paint the long faces of his models to mirror the one tall window that he saw on a farmhouse in a small town in Iowa. In this snapshot-style photograph taken by the American expat amateur photographer Ms. Jessica Shanahan, you can see a large snow fort constructed by hand by a brother and sister team. The round faces of the models mirror the one round door to the under-snow home. The photograph represents the joy brought by those things which, like childhood and snow, are ephemeral in nature.

Actually, that part about representation and mirroring and whatnot is all a load of cow poo. Akiva wanted me to take a picture of the snow fort before it melted. I think it’s a rather dull photo, so I had to liven it up with a bit of art criticism— or whatever you call it when someone tries to explain to you what you’re looking at. Plus, their expressions are just SO American Gothic!

I take photos by candle light.