I’m calling her Genevive

on

She is beautiful. My sister-in-law says that, but I don’t. I feel bad that she
said that.

She was born on October 20th at 7:26 in the morning. The day before was
cloudy. October 20th was cloudy. The sun sets when the sun is up. I’ll be
happy to say, the sun was up when Genevive was born.

It was cloudy in the morning and cloudy in the afternoon. Genevive’s hair
wasn’t brown. It was an odd shade of brown. The color of wet clay.

It’s not a perfect shade of brown. It’s not yellow either. It’s grey brown
with gray streaks.

Genevive’s eyes are hazel. They look as if they were dipped in paint. They
look like they are painted with paintbrush strokes. They are grey. They are
brown. They are blue. You can’t see through them either.

It’s all in the face and in the hair, I guess. I’ll keep on calling her Genevive
to let you know and the rest of the world calls her Evey. It’s what everyone
else calls her.

If you know me at all, you know that I am not one who talks a lot. Not. One. Bit.
But to the extent of my ability I try to keep this blog as clean as possible. I
try not to have to tell you about the things I do. If I tell you about
them, they’ll tell you about me. It’s an unwritten law of the blogging
community.

Any more questions? Well then, let’s get on with the show.

My daughter’s hair is not brown but it’s not red either. Her eye color lives
in the space where blue tickles green. She has one dimple on her right cheek
and none on her left. She was born at 7:26 am on a Tuesday in October. 20
minutes after a sunrise that we wouldn’t have seen if we had wanted to look.
It was cloudy. We were busy.

My sister-in-law said she never saw a baby look so much like their mom. That
is, secretly, very satisfying.

She’s the neatest little human. She likes rocks, animal figurines, and
chocolate milk.

Her name is Genevive. Her dad, grandma, and I call her Genevive. Everyone else
calls her Evey. What a mouthful. We’ve always called her Genevive.

She is beautiful. My sister-in-law says that, but I don’t. I feel bad that she
said that.

She was born on October 20th at 7:26 in the morning. The day before was
cloudy. October 20th was cloudy. The sun sets when the sun is up. I’ll be
happy to say, the sun was up when Genevive was born.

It was cloudy in the morning and cloudy in the afternoon. Genevive’s hair
wasn’t brown. It was an odd shade of brown. The color of wet clay.

It’s not a perfect shade of brown. It’s not yellow either. It’s grey
brown with gray streaks.

Genevive’s eyes are hazel. They look as if they were dipped in paint. They
look like they were painted with paintbrush strokes. They are grey. They are
brown. They are blue. You can’t see through them either.

It’s all in the face and in the hair, I guess. I’ll keep on calling her Genevive
to let you know and the rest of the world calls her Evey. It’s what everyone
else calls her.

If you know me at all, you know that I am not one who talks a lot. Not. One. Bit.
But to the extent of my ability I try to keep this blog as clean as possible. I
try not to have to tell you about the things I do. If I tell you about
them, they’ll tell you about me. It’s an unwritten law of the blogging
community.

Any more questions? Well then, let’s get on with the show.

My husband passed away four years ago on February 21st.

I think it was the 21st. I can’t remember his birthday.

My name is Genevive. I am the most important thing in the world. Everything
that happens around me is only good. Everything I experience is good. I believe
everything that happens is for a good reason.

I don’t like the sun. I like to read.

My hair is gray. It’s gray and it’s short. It was shorter for a while. It is not
short now. It is growing and it’s long. It is about 10 inches long right now.
The other day I measured it with a ruler. It is about 5 inches long or 12
centimeters long. It is a little shorter than its average length of 12 cm.

The only time I had a haircut is yesterday. It was so long that it fell
apart.

I was born on February 21 at 7:26 in the morning. It was cloudy. I was born
on the 22nd at 8:05 pm in the evening. The 22nd at 7:05 pm was clear which
is why I remember the 21st.

I was born in the summer of 1987. The summer was hot. The summer was hard
and it rained. The sun was orange. It was cloudy almost every single day I
was alive. It rained a lot. The rain was more of a storm than the rain in late
August. But, it was hard.

I like warm things. It’s the reason that I don’t like the things that I do
like playing with fire.

I like to go out and see the world. I like to be outside. I like to go out. The
reason that I’m not a fan of indoor activities is that I get sick of them.
There’s no fun in playing with the water cooler or the vacuum cleaner.

I like bright things. It’s the reason why I love the beach, the mountains,
the park, and so on. The reason that I don’t like to be in a room with too
many distractions is the fact that I have trouble focusing on anything and
everything. It’s the reason that I have trouble staying on task at school.

My eyes are brown. It’s not green. It’s not blue. It’s not orange or red. My
eyes are brown. I don’t have the type of eyes that can have a dimple on the
left cheek or an indent in the middle part of your eye socket.

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