G.G. came into town on Friday to see Ava and to accompany us on some holiday errands, including getting our Christmas tree. But first things first. I said I’d try to get a face-on shot of Ava’s new haircut, and I did. Here it is:
Now, Georgie, Leah, and Ava made cookies on Friday afternoon. Gingerbread and almond sugar sprinkle cookies. By the looks of it, they had a good time.
Then, on Saturday morning, the fun really began. We started out by driving out to Dane Road to cut down our Christmas tree. We’d always bought from the Optimists in the past, but Leah got it into her head that she wanted to traipse out into the wild and harvest her own tree this year, so we did. The pictures of that event are on a different camera I haven’t downloaded from yet, but I do have a shot of the finished product:
After we got the tree home, we had a quick lunch and then loaded in the car again to drive down to Mount Pleasant for a ride on the Polar Express. It was a bit sleety on the drive down, but we made it in time to get our tickets and find a place on the train. Did I mention it was cold?
Things warmed up once we got on the train. And it’s a neat old train, too, with a great steam engine.
Ava got to see Santa and sit on his lap, but she choked a bit when he asked her what she wanted for Christmas. Nerves. But she did — of course — get a bell from Santa’s sleigh, per the story, and she spent a lot of time in the crafts room making ornaments for our tree. They turned out pretty well.
And speaking of crafts, Ava went on another painting spree yesterday. You can tell how involved she’s getting in her project by how far out she’s sticking her tongue.
She was working on larger pieces yesterday, so I couldn’t scan them. But I did take pictures of the paintings so I could get them online. Here’s a cropped section from one of my favorite pieces. She called me into the kitchen to show me she’d painted her name.
I think those two backslashes after her name are just for adornment, though perhaps she’s envisioning the day when she’s her own Internet communications protocol. Get William Gibson on the phone….