a saturday in may

Everyone in the family got haircuts this week (except Ben, who barely has hair) because we wanted to look nice for Ben's first photo shoot. Some wonderful friends pooled their money and, as a gift, hired the same photographer who took Daniel's first (and only) professional pictures to come over and photograph Ben. (She didn't take this one, though; Steve did.)


Daniel is getting over a hacky-cough, crusty-nose cold. I'm worried he's given it to Ben — one of Ben's eyes has goop around it and sticks shut after he's been sleeping. And I hope he doesn't give it to me because I need to be healthy when I start chemo.


I also hope he didn't give his cold to Father O'Connell, who came over last night to visit. He is the priest who married us and baptized Daniel. We think the world of him, and so does Daniel, apparently — he dropped any trace of shyness and ran around all evening saying "Father O'Connell" and wanting to sit in his lap. I took pictures of that, too, but on my film camera, not the digital. (Low battery.)