Results are back from the biopsy: no rejection, no major infection (some small, non-specific blah-blah-blah that I didn't even bother to add to my glossary of fancy medical terms that are useless to me in almost every way except for the occasional embarrassment of mispronunciation, which helps to remind me that although I've probably spent more time in the hospital than some of the young pups coming by in white coats I still do not, in fact, have a medical degree).
I had no laptop at the hospital, and packed up almost immediately for a trip to Kansas City, again with no laptop. I didn't even take photos in Kansas City, since my sister was there and I'm not sure she's been seen without a camera in her hand since 1980, when she took a photography class at the community college. I shared my theory with her teenaged daughter that the fake shutter noises on the digital SLR my sister now uses is pretty similar in principle to belling a cat. Still, my sister managed to get photos of me with my hair in full morning-crazy and shot from the angle best suited to emphasize my loss of neck definition.
Of course, she also got some absolutely beautiful shots of my girls, and that makes up for pretty much anything.
We drove back from Kansas City in awful weather, but made it in time to flip on the lights on the fake Christmas tree for Christmas eve.
The next morning the girls opened their presents for Cleo before any of their own, which confused our poor dog no end. Now she sits very prettily waiting for a treat whenever she hears the rattle of paper.
Annika had been telling everyone who looked even vaguely receptive to a conversation with a 9-year-old (a category pretty broadly defined by Anni) that "We don't have very many presents under the tree this year." She never failed to accompany this statement with a widening of her big, blue eyes, as if she were bravely holding back tears.
At which point I would have to rush in, before the poor, unsuspecting soul slipped Annika a fiver or began taking up a collection, to remind Annika (loudly) that the lack of presents was because we got one big present for the whole family this year.
So now we have a Wii, and have discovered that Frankie's got the golfing skills of a young Annika Sorenstam, so maybe we mixed up the naming order of the family.
And despite our entry into the non-obsolete portion of the video gaming world, Frankie's favorite gift was the "Noise Putty" she found in her stocking. Also called, "Awesome Jar of Farts."
Happy holidays to your all, and thanks for checking in!