My younger niece was about this age when I last saw her. Now she's two. (Oh, how the years go by.) Now, me, I'm trying to gather the money and the courage to go home this holiday season -- by Greyhound, of course, where one doesn't need a lot of notice.)Perhaps this is another aspect of my monotropic-ness (or at least a cousin of it): I sometimes actually prefer the Greyhound with its one direction endlessness over the aisle-winding, the multiple starts and stops and dig-around-in-one's-purse moments of an airport world. I'm starting a lens, "Going Greyhound Without Going Crazy". I thought it was a reasonably catchy title, though I have personally never found that there was anything whatsoever about the bus that made me crazier than I was already (even when, as on the local 49 this morning, certain little incidents have necessitated a visit from the police).
It can be a little difficut, of course, to maneuver the bus station with half a dollhouse. The dollhouse in question is to become my older niece's -- and, you know, it's hard to carry even a 1:12 replica of a two-story house (or all the pieces) at once. Ah, but here's my Dollhouse to Grow Up With lens. I have also been working on creating a ... well, can't tell.
