Our Ingomar Baby

We took our Ingomar baby home for her second birthday.

Little Marsielle (that’s mar-see-ELL in case you’re still unsure about it) turned two yesterday, and we took the party back home to Ingomar.  We were living at Ingomar, of course, when she was born in 2015.  Well… not actually in Ingomar… but 17 miles out of Ingomar, at the VX.  So she’s our Ingomar baby, and I’ll admit I’m kinda jealous.  Because who doesn’t want to be an Ingomar baby?

So yesterday evening, in honor of March 30, we Blakes loaded up with Grandma and Grandpa Arvik and drove north for a celebration Ingomar-style.  First, supper at the Jersey Lilly, and then a trot over to the old school gymnasium in Ingomar — where the kids ran wild and where I beat my husband at several rounds of H-O-R-S-E (yep, I still got it) and where Grandma and Grandpa gifted to the birthday girl an Etch A Sketch which the birthday girl’s big brother and sister proceeded to fight over until they fell asleep.

A few thoughts on the day:

-I can’t believe she’s already 2.

-Two-year-old birthdays are the best.  A few extra cuddles, a few rounds of the “Happy Birthday” song, a ball to chase, a party with nobody but Grandma and Grandpa as guests… and any 2-year-old is plumb happy.  Here with our third child we figure we might as well keep the birthday business simple for as long as possible… because by her third birthday, the party drama will likely have ratcheted up a notch.

-The kids and I have not been back to the VX since we moved away.  Not because we don’t love the VX, but because we need to focus on our new life here at ranch headquarters.  We hadn’t even been back to Ingomar, just 24 miles up the road, since our October 1st moving day… until last night.  It was so good and warm and familiar to be there again.  Maybe I’m waxing poetic here, but the sheepherder’s hors d’oeuvres tasted like a letter from home.

-Yesterday, before the party and due to my neglectful habit of keeping about 50 documents and 5 internet browser windows open on my desktop — and also, I believe, because my kids like to poke at the keyboard and run off with the mouse — my computer froze up for the second time in a week.  I finally had to unplug the dern thing, and thanks (sincerely) to the geniuses at Apple it recovered all the work I had open on the desktop when I restarted it… at least as far as I can tell.  (Don’t you hate that fear of not knowing what you’ll never miss?)  But the whole occasion caused me to sit down for a half hour (while Beau assembled Marsielle’s new trike) and take the time to properly save and store a lot of my unfinished computer projects — as well as throw away a lot of that glowing-screen-trash that accumulates.  Then I decided to go ahead with an OSX update the computer had been begging me to allow.  And so my beloved Mac did a major update while I was off partying.  And this morning… well, everything on the screen looks different.  I think all my stuff is still here, organized in that random, nonsensical way I apparently prefer… but I’m scared to look around too much for fear of what I might not find!  So far I know that iPhoto won’t open properly (no big deal… I only have about 3,000 photos stored on there and nowhere else), and also the computer won’t recognize the scanner… yet (hoping, as always, that this problem fixes itself).  I see there are still some updates to complete, so I’m hoping for the best.  But I’ll admit it:  the whole update business makes me suuuuuuper nervous.  In the meantime, I won’t be able to post any of the photos I took last night to accompany this blog due to the iPhoto glitch.  Sigh.  Computers.  They make work so easy… but they make so much extra work.

-And finally… I can’t believe she’s already 2.

@ the Lil.jpg

© Tami Blake

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