*I’m switching Steampunk Sunday with Miscellaneous Monday this week in hopes that I have something to show from the steampunk dress tomorrow. Wish me luck – with my sewing, I need it.*
I think that whatever age we first meet someone is the age they always are in our minds. My parents, to me, have barely aged in my lifetime. They’re still just. . . there. . . in a twilight region that’s much older than me but never truly old. It will be a great shock to me if they suddenly start having old-person health complaints.
I have another friend who is four years younger than me. As adults, that makes us effectively the same age – but we’ve known each other since primary school, and four years in childhood is a distance greater than the circumference of the earth. So I’m always underestimating his age, because to me he’s much, much younger than I am.
And I imagine this means that I will always look at Louisette and see the wide-eyed yet deeply suspicious baby that I love. Hopefully I’ll see all the other ages of her life too.