That pig has a big, big bottom

Said Iris.

Put a lid on

After steadfastly refusing to wear any sort of hat, no matter what the temperature, for 18 months, Iris embraced headgear with relish. Her hat of choice is one we found on the corner of 42nd and Pine, put on a fencepost so the owner could easily find it, and then decided to take when it was still there days later.

She wore it while sleeping (note also the shoes tightly clutched in her hands):


(That's a tape measure under her arm she was taking to bed for a while.)


If the favored hat could not be found, others would suffice.



As the weather grew cooler, she moved on to other idioms:


Celebrating Obama's victory:


We are still trying to find a picture of her from my museum opening where she is seated next to the extremely esteemed former director of the British Museum (he has his own wikipedia entry!), with her hat jammed over her face because she didn't want to talk to him.

In the spirit of giving, and receiving

A short series of Iris enjoying things people have given her:

Her barbeque (the party got a little carried away):


Her carseat (and her Spartan socks):


Her Christmas crown and sushi set:


My Christmas scarf:


Her dollhouse and doll families:



This is the face Iris makes when you ask her to smile:


And her Christmas dress and necklace:

Say cheese

Well, having finally located the camera cable after the Great Move of 2008, I find we have taken 448 pictures since the end of July. Somehow this seems excessive. But then I discover there are 19 pictures alone of Iris eating an entire slab of parmesan.