December 6, 2000 - Wednesday
Last Christmas, when he was fair to young to know anything about it, Harry received a sack full of custom-made blocks from his Aunt Jane. She works at a designer furniture maker that had these scraps of cherry, mahogany, maple, and other fine woods lying around the workshops and basically sanded down all the corners and made them fit for a toddler. There's probably some modern safety code that they don't meet, but they're a staple of Harry's daily entertainment and have been for many months. He used to just block down piles that we would build for him, but now he's just started to stack them himself. And, over the last several weeks, they've been constant objects for "putting" and, somewhat regrettably, banging either together or on furniture and the floor.

This picture shows Harry in the act of banging two together, but also in a rather strange position that he's taken to lately. I don't know whether he learned this from the cat or what, but he now likes sitting in the plastic basin where the blocks generally stay when not in use.


Comments, opinions?