Parchman Farm

I'm back home (no thanks to West Virginia and its utter lack of snow plows and salt) and amazed at how much Betty seems to have changed in the short time I was gone. She's standing better, her coordination is improved, and she just looks...worldlier. She's also a lot whinier. I have a feeling yet another of my "My child will never..." pronouncements is going to go down the tubes. All the dirty looks I've given the moms of whiny babies in airplanes, restaurants, and movie theaters are going to come back to haunt me I fear. More on this developing story later I'm sure.

But maybe Betty is just singing the blues. Here she is banging her cup against the prison bars. I find this appropriate since I'll be teaching my students tomorrow about prison work songs.