We got back yesterday afternoon from a wonderful long Christmas weekend in Richland. It was a weekend marked by my first duck hunt (and I got a BIG one), Sara's first hunt of any kind (too cold, too early), Kristen regaining her rightful place atop the flower hill (which is an inside joke only the family will appreciate), Hank's first time in a 300+ acre dog park (no comment from laid back Hank), the Wrangler's first time off road (it lived up to its Trail Rated badge), sunny skies and very warm temperatures, and the usual Richland family love and laughter.
My two daughters bonded like superglue over the weekend. You can see the proof in Kristen's amazing pictures. There was never any doubt that it would happen, but it was great to watch. RJ is well out of her infancy and into her babyhood. She sits in laps, pays attention, serves up normal expressions, smiles, burbles, shrieks, sucks on her hands (when she isn't rubbing them together, plotting baby schemes) and does a good job overall of appearing to be a little human. Which, of course, made her all the more endearing to an older sister who was meeting her for the first time. It also afforded RJ considerable forgiveness for the many times she unexpectedly spewed half-digested milk over Sara and the rest of us.
The hardest part of the weekend was putting the Pixie on her plane back to New York. The air always goes out of the balloon when Sara is gone, and KB and I need a day or two to figure out how to fill the void. It's a lonely, sad time. We just hope that we showed her a good enough time to convince her to come back to Texas, often. Because Texas looks good on the Pixie...
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