Alternate title: In which I pretend I am a real photographer because I have a tripod and a timer.

Alternate alternate title: Lots of pictures, few words.

The misery in our house continues, to the point when I call the nurse line at my ped’s office, hoping she could write me a prescription for magical baby pills that stop screaming. Or maybe just some Valium. For me, not the screaming child. They had me bring Baby Evan in for the fastest appointment ever (total time from my phone call to home again: 23 minutes) and confirmed he has no ear infection or secret broken bones or prehensile tail growing out his diaper and it is simply teething. Really painful teething, but teething none the less.

In an attempt to distract both of us from some of the misery, I decided to play photographer up at the rose garden. For some reason our town is called “The Rose of New England” (because…people in Connecticut can be kind of prickly and intimidating? We’re all special snowflakes? We smell very strongly?) It’s really a lovely little garden and would be a beautiful spot for a small June wedding, unless of course you wanted people to actually attend, as there is no parking and no seats. Still, pretty flowers!

Baby Evan was fairly cooperative – if adamantly opposed to wearing shoes of any kind – and we had a pretty good time. I even like most of the pictures of myself! Truly a remarkable day here in the Davis household.

The quote is *almost* by Emily Dickinson, only her version is "There came a day at Summer's full, entirely for me". It's not a particularly happy poem, so I don't know who chose/changed it.

That yellow rose is called "Julia Child", which I think makes it my favorite.